The Price of Nostalgia, Part Deux

This is simply the proof that I was Speed Racer some years ago. So, the second price of nostalgia is self-humiliation. I will spare my brother the picture of the two of us together, with him wearing a pumpkin costume. Poor little dude....

The Price of Nostalgia

In less than a week, fans will be lining up around city blocks to see the man with the whip back in action. However, part of the problem is that the man with the whip, Indiana Jones, just got his AARP card. Likewise, Speed Racer is currently raking in some money at theaters with a live action film, sort of. Nostalgia based films are nothing new to the movie market, this is for sure, but something about this year’s crop has me more agitated than most. Of course, it may just be the motion picture industry we’re saddled with right now more than any particular year’s worth of films. But now I’m just splitting hairs.

Something hasn’t set right with me since I heard that a fourth Indiana Jones movie was going into production. Harrison Ford was already well into his sixties and the idea of bringing back a beloved film icon well past his prime for an action film was laughable. Sure, there was a part of me that was a little excited, as I love the character and the first three films. But then I began to hear details about the production.

The first thing that had me worried was that George Lucas hadn’t written a sequel in eighteen years because of a lack of ideas. A lack of ideas over that long of a drought means that it should probably have been left alone, like the Ark of the Covenant. Sure, the thing has the power of nostalgia, but it will ultimately destroy anyone who dares open it and retrieve its history. But, when Lucas finally did come up with a story, it was something akin to “Indiana Jones and the Flying Saucers,” or “…the Saucer Men from Mars.” Seriously. As part of a three-headed hydra with veto power, Harrison Ford and / or Spielberg nixed that idea and the production went on hiatus.

Cooler heads didn’t apparently ultimately prevail as the project went through multiple writers without success including four very capable writers in Frank Darabont, Stephen Gaghan, Tom Stoppard (no less) and M. Night Shyamalan, the latter of which couldn’t even finish a treatment as he couldn’t get the Trio to focus on what they wanted. (And it’s beginning to look like Kevin Smith’s tales of Hollywood idiocy aren’t so far fetched.) They ended up with David Koepp, a writer with some success whose flops can be overlooked for writing Panic Room and Spider-Man.

However, some of that alien element, reportedly, still survives the plotline. Ugh. Hasn’t the X-Files overmined this particular claim? (Speaking of which, there’s a new X-Files movie coming out later this year as well) Even with a script, we then get back to the still increasing problem of Indy’s age. To combat this, the Trio decided that the method of storytelling be less a 30’s serial form (which worked incredibly well for the first three films), and instead take cues from 50’s B-movies, as that was when the film would be set. Now, the Indy films never took themselves too seriously, but they also never became camp. I can’t believe this was ever approved.

To make matters worse, Spielberg demanded that Shia LeBeouf fill the role of the young man who could or could not be Indy’s son, as he reminded the ‘golden glow’ director of a young Tom Hanks. Apologies to any Tom Hanks fans out there, but that’s not exactly what Hollywood needs. Besides, LeBeouf already got in his nostalgia licks with the appallingly bad Transformers, of which there will be two sequels. Yay.

In a recent interview with Entertainment Weekly, Lucas predicted a massive fan backlash against the film. Whether it was because of most of the above problems or simply his experience in making the Star Wars prequels remains to be seen. It can be said, however, that a movie hasn’t had this much anticipation, this much marketing, including a tie-in novel written by an established writer, a comic book adaptation and several licensing deals, since The Phantom Menace. And we all remember how that one turned out. I haven’t seen this film, I’m not a Hollywood insider or rabid fanboy who finds a way to sneak into a preview screening. I’m simply a guy who grew up watching the Indiana Jones movies and despair for this new film.

But, not all others are like me. In fact, most of the population is probably the polar opposite. Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull will be one of the biggest money making movies this year as people will line up for hours, possibly even days outside theaters. Hell, people will probably even dress up, just like they did for Star Wars. But my nostalgia meter works differently than most. Rather than become excited, I grow wary. My defenses go up. I’ve been burned too many times. As such, I will not go out and see this movie. I’m sure it’s going to be terrible. I’m sure I’m going to be disappointed. In Raiders of the Lost Ark, Indy’s friend Sallah expresses his concerns over the Ark thusly, “If it is there, at Tanis, then it is something that man was not meant to disturb. Death has always surrounded it. It is not of this earth.” The same can be said for the Indy franchise. It is far away one of the best series of movies ever made. They had action, humor, suspense, great dialogue and a sense of history and style. But if 18 years have gone by, without any real ideas to speak of to unearth the franchise, then it should be left alone. Spielberg and Lucas better hope their heads don’t melt.

On a final note about nostalgia, in this ever-increasing market of nostalgia based properties (i.e. Transformers, Speed Racer, G.I. Joe, not to mention the recent crapfest of old TV adaptations, such as Dukes of Hazzard and Miami Vice) there seems to be fewer and fewer original stories on film. Or, maybe it’s always been like this and I’m just hypersensitive to it right now because of the possible upcoming desecration of a beloved character’s adventures. But nostalgia is not reason enough alone to exploit the past. There must be something else, a story of substance with something new to tell. Otherwise, what’s the point? I dressed up as Speed Racer for Halloween when I was six years old, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to plunk down ten bucks to see it in theaters as a 36 year old. Go go go? No no no.

Television: The Wire

I heard an NPR interview with Ira Glass sometime over the last year that caught my attention. You read that correctly, it wasn't Glass' own public radio show, This American Life. Instead, he was doing the publicity circuit for his new 'television' show of the same title. As any interviewer might ask, this one wondered if Glass, a radio man, was somewhat apprehensive and derisive about the landscape of television. Glass responded with something that resonated with me, and something with which I wholeheartedly agree. He said that television is going through a new 'Golden Age.' To paraphrase, he says that as viewership declines for particular stand-by ideas due to either lack of interest or a wider variety of programming, those who create television are forced to stretch their comfort zones and come up with something fresh. Coincidentally, this is what I've thought about the music scene lately, as well. With more and more independent labels, and multiple instantaneous ways to have music heard, it is taking a very special kind of band to break out.

Anyway, this kind of televised creativity has been going on at HBO for quite a few years now. This decade, HBO has spawned some of the best programming in television history with Six Feet Under, Deadwood, The Sopranos, Carnivale, Rome, In Treatment and Band of Brothers. I don't know how I passed over The Wire. Maybe it was the glut of police procedurals on the networks with umpteen Law & Order spinoffs and CSI's to make you S-I-C-K. But, eventually, I was convinced by my brother to watch the show. In years past I've called various and sundry programs 'the best show on television.' Well, guess what, the series may have ended, but The Wire is the best show (formerly) on television.

Created by David Simon, The Wire is less a police procedural than a visual novel about Baltimore and the world of crime that envelops the city. In season one, we are introduced to Detective Jimmy McNulty, who becomes the central figure within the world of the Baltimore police. Through him, and his many screw-ups within the department, we meet the rest of the law enforcement team that become the Major Case Unit, attempting to overhear, in any way they can, incriminating evidence on the massive drug trade. In that same first season, we meet the Barksdale crew. Avon Barksdale, his nephew D'Angelo, second in command Stringer Bell and other various characters within the organization all made for worthy foils to the Police.

The second season brought in a new dimension, the dockworkers who find their business and their union less strong than it used to be, and so turn to aid in overseas smuggling to ensure their futures. Of course, everything then ties back into the Barksdale Organization, making for an intriguing web of crime and villainy. (Back to the villainy later). The third season adds three new layers, those of politics with mayoral hopeful Tommy Carcetti, rival drug boss and overall vicious bastard Marlo Stanfield, and the recently sprung from jail old-school gangster trying to make his way in a new world, Dennis "Cutty" Wise. The third season is where things got interesting. With all of these storylines, it set up a vast number of intricacies that would continue up until the end of the series. Also, the third season provided a timely analogy to the war in Iraq with the more straightforward war on drugs.

The fourth season introduces four public school kids who are torn between a life on the corner, selling drugs, and the far less likely 'way out.' Namond Brice, son of imprisoned Barksdale enforcer "Wee Bay" Brice, Michael Lee, a boy looking out for his younger brother despite their junkie mother, Dukie Weems, whose parents steal everything he brings home to sell for drug money, and Randy Wagstaff, an adopted foster child, are our central figures. Despite their seemingly unavoidable destinies, where these boys end up might surprise you, and ends up being one of the most interesting aspects of the fifth season. That fifth and final season layers on the newspapermen of the Baltimore Sun, tying in the lies and deceit of the print with the lies and deceit of the police, especially one Jimmy McNulty, and the code of ethics of their peers such as Bunk Moreland and Augustus Haynes. Meanwhile, we are introduced to two of the most vicious people to ever appear on the show, Chris Partlow and Snoop Pearson, Marlo's ruthless henchmen. The fifth season is the final season, and aside from Six Feet Under, probably the best last fifteen minutes of a show ever aired.

I have saved the best parts of The Wire for last. There are two characters who have appeared in every season, sprinkled throughout so as not to overpower the main storylines, but enough to become the more interesting and popular characters on the show. The first is named "Bubbles," an addict who is often a 'C.I.' (Confidential Informant) for the Baltimore Police. Over the years, the well meaning but down on his luck Bubs repeatedly goes on and off the drugs, is abused by the cops, the other street dwellers and his own family members. Through it all, Bubbles tries to see the good in things and people and we can't help but connect with him, no matter how disparate our lives may be to his. The second character is Omar Little. Omar, somewhat a Baltimore streets 'spook story,' is a criminal with a code. He will only rob from those who prey on the community, i.e. the drug trade. He is the only major character on the show not to use profanity. He would normally seem somewhat an outcast, being an openly gay street thug, but is the most feared individual on those streets. When he walks down the street in PJ's to buy some cereal, kids flee in terror screaming, "Omar's comin', Omar!" One of the more haunting soundbites in the show is Omar whistling his threatening theme, "The Farmer in the Dell." When he whistles that tune, you know you're in trouble.

Omar and Bubbles are probably the most complex characters in a show filled with complex characters. Bubbles, aside from the major players in the police, is one of the only characters to have appeared in the first and last episode, making a particularly long and intriguing story arc. Omar's story shares a similarly mirrored and bookended storyline going from the third episode in the first to three episodes from the close. David Simon has claimed that there are almost no redeeming characters in the entire show, save for maybe Leandor Sydnor, one of the Major Case Unit Detectives, and even he has his moments. This show is a televised and dramatized novelization that's based on reality, and that's what makes this show so special. Life is gritty and ugly, with slight moments of hope, and this is exactly how the City of Baltimore is presented here. Five seasons just wasn't enough...

It's a Beautiful Day For a Ball Game...

It's been a fairly good week compared to most. Why? Well, going backwards, the week ends with the fourth season premiere of Battlestar Galactica. That alone is enough to put a smirk on my face, and I'll write a separate blog on that terrific show. But, there was also a new album release by R.E.M. that puts them squarely back to a place when they were relevant and rockin'. And again, I'll write a separate blog on Accelerate later. But the week started with one of the holiest of holy days, Opening Day.

Baseball has been a life long love for me. My parents took me and my siblings on regular trips to Dodger Stadium when I was very small. Those excursions to the ballpark are the most vivid memories I have of my childhood. Back then, and even now, there is something magical about the ballpark, and especially Dodger Stadium. You'd think that with the sport being as storied as it is, that a stadium built in 1962 would still be considered relatively new, but it is now the 4th oldest park in the Major Leagues, and will possibly move up if and when the Yankees and Red Sox build new parks. (I just can't see the Cubs doing it, Wrigley will probably be around forever, or until they win a World Series, whichever comes first). That perfectly tended grass, that beveled roof in the outfield, those yummy Dodger Dogs, they're all parts of why I love Dodger Stadium, and were great contributors into why I love the game.

There's no way I could do justice to the game of baseball as a whole in the way that has already been done by writer / director Phil Alden Robinson in Field of Dreams. So, take a little side excursion and watch here why baseball is the best sport in America.

I grew up watching one of the greatest infields ever to play the game. Steve Garvey at first base, Davey Lopes at second, Bill Russell at short and Ron Cey (The Penguin) at third. It's one of the last times I can remember that an entire infield was feared both on the field and in the batter's box. Sure, A-Rod and Jeter aren't slouches, and Cano is turning out to be a great second baseman, but there's usually one out of the four positions that struggles. There have been a couple of World Series titles since then, in '81 and '88, but true blue Dodger fans have been waiting ever since. Remember, as opposed to the pre-2004 Red Sox and the Cubbies, the Dodgers are actually one of the more successful ball clubs in the league. They are second only to the Yankees in terms of World Series appearances with 18!

As the saying goes, "Wait Until Next Year," and hopefully, that year has begun. Player acquisition is always a tricky business. The balance of farm-raised talent, supposed star trades, and veterans with a penchant for injury is never easy. They've tried the superstar thing with a number of aging pitchers (Kevin Brown, anyone?) and they've also tried the Sabermetrics plan with Paul DePodesta at the helm. That failed, too. And now, the Dodgers have seemingly gone back to the idea that I've loved and embraced about them, the idea of creating homegrown talent in their farm system. James Loney, Andy LaRoche, Jonathan Broxton, Matt Kemp, Russell Martin, Blake DeWitt, Jason Repko and Delwyn Young are all 'promotion from the inside' talent that has shone or will shine in the upcoming days, weeks and months. The problem is, they have to mix with the veterans, such as Jeff Kent, Nomar Garciaparra, Derek Lowe, Brad Penny and now Andruw Jones. In fact, Kent had words with Loney and Kemp about just such a problem.

So, how's this going to work out? Well, the Dodgers made what I think is the best move in all of baseball this year, and it didn't involve a player. Frank McCourt went out and got one of the most proven managers in the game in Joe Torre. Although, like most, I generally hate the Yankees, I've always respected Torre. He had a head for the game, with both a fire and drive to win, but also an even temperament to withstand pressure with ease (who else could last that long with Steinbrenner in charge, having to live on pins and needles for your job every year?). If there's one guy who could make the biggest impact on the Dodgers' success this year, it's Torre. Many of the pundits have the Dodgers placing third at best by the end of the year, but I'm hoping for a surprise. After all, wouldn't it be great to see the Dodgers play the Yanks in the series, yet again? But this time, Torre will have this revenge against his old team.

March Madness, Bracket Gladness

It's a sports' lover's favorite time of the year. Why? Because you have the NBA Playoffs coming up. With the NHL, it's the same thing. Spring training is here for MLB fans, and college football teams are just starting to practice. But above all, the best ticket in sports right now is NCAA hoops, March Madness, the Big Dance. 65 teams enter, only one leaves. With a 'one and done' system, and the lowest percentage of divisional teams actually participating, it's probably the toughest championship to win in all of sports, but it's also the most fun to be a part of.

No, I've never played in the tournament. That's not what I meant by being a part of March Madness. There are many other ways to be a part of this great spectacle. The first is easy for anyone who attended any of the schools amongst the 65. In the interest of fairness, I graduated from UCLA. So, guess who I'm rooting for?

The next way to participate is a standard ritual amongst groups of coworkers, friends and fellow students, that being the almighty bracket pool. Every year, thousands upon thousands of people take some kind of approach, whether mathematical, personal, or otherwise, and fill out a bracket, hoping to either win a bit of cash, or at least bragging rights among their friends. These brackets are so fun, they've become a part of pop culture in having face-off battles between any number of different arenas. I've seen them used for music, film and practically everything else. There's even a book on the subject, called "The Enlightened Bracketologist."
There's no way I could as much justice to the subject as sports-writing guru Frank DeFord, so I'll just link his little essay on the subject. Click Here. And, of course, I filled out a bracket this year. I was invited by my friend Jeremy who I went to UCLA with in the 1990's, the last time that the Bruins actually won a championship. Sure, they've come close since, but this seems to be their year.

To tell you the truth, when it comes to sports, I'm just a die-hard baseball guy. It's the only sport I truly love. I can watch any game at any time with any teams involved and be happy. I despise football, especially pro football. (College football gets a pass for my alma mater, but the BCS leaves a bad taste in my mouth, and so does the amount of money being fueled into this one college sport.) I can't get into hockey. The NBA is the epitome of selfish excess in my eyes with a huge tendency towards players than teams. But college basketball, that's different. Sure, a lot of these players are using this stage as a tryout for the NBA draft, but that's only a handful. For the most part, the only thing at stake is that actual championship and school pride, and that's how it should be.

Most of the fun in watching the NCAA Tournament is in rooting for the underdogs, and seeing a horde of upsets. I even found myself rooting for the underdog even if it ended up ruining my bracket! Case in point, USD. My sister went to the University of San Diego. They were always known as having a 'respectable' basketball team, a strong team amongst a bunch of strong teams in the West Coast Conference, but certainly one that couldn't measure up to the rest of the field in an actual Division I tourney. They proved everyone wrong this year by beating perennial dance attendees, Connecticut. Unfortunately, their run was put to an end by another upset winner, Western Kentucky. Somehow it seems as if the WCC teams always come out looking better than everyone at first thought, i.e. Loyola Marymount back when Bo Kimble was paying tribute to fallen friend Hank Gathers, or the jockeying attendees of Pepperdine and Gonzaga.

But, my favorite part of the tournament this year has been Davidson. Why? Not only is Davidson true to its name by being the 'son of David,' the offspring of the boy who smote Goliath, but I was the only person in my entire bracket pool to pick Davidson to reach the Sweet 16. That pick vaulted me from the middle of the pack to third! It didn't really matter that my Elite 8 picks are compromised thanks to losses by Duke and Pitt. (In fact, I really enjoyed watching Duke nearly eat it in the first round and then choke in the second.) Seeing the one team you really believed in, that one underdog you put your faith behind, not only win their first game against a tough Gonzaga team, but then win their second round against powerhouse Georgetown, well, that's a blast. For the record, I also have Davidson advancing into the Elite 8. For that, they'll have to get past #3 Wisconsin, but I don't see it as a problem. I originally had them beating USC to get into the 8, but the Trojans lost their first round match-up. And there's no way in hell I wasn't going to have a smirk on my face because of that.

But, when all is said and done, I am a Bruin through and through. There's no way around it. I'd have picked UCLA to win the whole thing even if they actually placed sixth in the Pac-10, making them the last to make the cutoff for the tournament. I love March Madness, filling out the brackets and watching the upsets, but I love UCLA more. Attending UCLA was one of the best times in my entire life and I have a lot of great memories. Watching basketball and football in Pauley Pavilion and the Rose Bowl respectively was second to none. And this year, with likely pro draftee Kevin Love, the super quick and accurate Darren Collison, shooter extraordinaire Josh Shipp, and my favorite feisty rebounder, Lorenzo Mata-Real, they have more than a chance, it's almost expected. Many said that their road to the Final Four was far easier than any of the other #1 Seeds. That may be true, but the remaining seeds in their bracket are #'s 3, 7 and 12, making it seem as if it was one of the brackets with the most parity, unlike North Carolina's East bracket, with its 1-4 seeds still intact.

Well, no matter. I have UCLA beating UNC in the final with a score of 69-67. Here's to hoping it's not actually that close, and that the Bruins wipe the floor with those heels of tar. Go Bruins!

Re-Tales: One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish

As an employee for any corporation, you have to keep any personal feelings and politics behind. But there are times when even a saint's patience can be tested. I've already said that customers aren't always right, but that isn't the half of it. Customers are people, and people can be downright opinionated, cruel and ignorant, such as in the following example:

With the ever increasing awareness of global warming, and its effects on every living being on this planet, a lot of companies, products and people are 'going green.' As such, we had a 'green living' display of books. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to realize that our world is changing dramatically. In fact, if one wanted proof from that kind of credential, one only need look as far as last year's Nobel Peace Prize winners, shared by Al Gore and the IPCC, a panel of over 600 reputable authorities from over 40 countries. And yet, there are still people in the dark corners of this country who refuse to believe it.

One day, a customer decided to make his opinions known about the 'scam' known as global warming. Turns out, that's what his favorite conservative radio host had said. He held up a copy of Al Gore's An Inconvenient Truth mere inches from my face, in a very aggressive manner, telling me what a 'load of hogwash' it was and how it was the biggest scam since, well I don't remember what, but I was starting to boil over. As politely as I could, I said that I wouldn't discuss that topic as I disagreed with him. Quite rudely, he responded, "that's because you don't know ANYTHING." At that point, I felt like abandoning the customer as, since I don't know anything, I surely can't help him any further. But, somehow, I continued. He kept talking about the subject with his friend, all the way to the book he requested. He simply couldn't accept that someone didn't feel the same way he did and had to vocally represent that dissent. To me, those are the actions of someone who is very insecure with his opinions.

Someone who is completely secure with their own ideas lets everyone have their say. Instead, bookstores are besotted with people we call 'book-turners.' These people, mostly conservatives, come in and willfully hide books by or about left wing politicians. Lately, their usual target is Hillary Clinton. If there's a stack of her books on a table, the top one gets turned over. A faceout on a display? Turned over. A spine showing on the shelf, turned so the pages face the customer. The really paranoid ones do a massive amount of shuffling so that Democratic books are pushed way back and covered with books about their own favorites. Is all this really necessary?

I've seen much worse than this, especially in the aftermath of 9/11, with people saying the most horrible things about coworkers who didn't happen to be 'American' in their eyes. It's simply deplorable. Books are supposed to be tools of learning, not tools of ignorance, and bookstores should be a place where everyone can come together. Unfortunately, I don't see that happening in our near future.

Interruption: Oscars 2008

I normally reserve Wednesdays for a blog about books, but I'm going to skip that this week to discuss this year's Oscars.

I am among the minority of people who thought this year's Oscars were one of the best in its 80 year history. It was one of the lowest rated Oscar broadcasts of all time, if not the lowest. That might have had something to do with the uncertainty up until mere weeks before the show that there might not even be a show due to the WGA writers' strike. Or, it might have had to do with other factors. For instance, this year's awards were dominated by independent films dealing with incredibly heavy issues and themes. There have really been only two other years in which independent films were so dominant, those being 1996 and 2002. 1996 had the dubious distinction, before this year's naysayers had their moment, of being the 'worst Oscars ever.' I couldn't disagree more. That year, The English Patient took home numerous awards including the much deserved Best Picture honors. The brilliant Fargo was also nominated for quite a few statuettes, making me wonder if the curse of 'worst Oscars' is the Coens' fault. 2002, in my mind, was far worse as Chicago won Best Picture over the much better films, LOTR: The Two Towers, The Pianist and The Hours.

This year marked one of the few times that I had actually seen all five of the 'Best Picture' nominated films before the awards ceremony. It was also one of the few times that I really wouldn't have minded if any of the five took home the prize. This obviously sets me apart from the rest of the country as most Americans didn't see these fantastic films. However, I did feel, as you could have seen from my earlier post, that No Country for Old Men was undoubtedly the best film of the year, and finally, the Academy agreed with me. This year being the polar opposite of 1992 when Spike Lee's magnificent Malcolm X was snubbed by the Academy with Al Pacino winning over the nominated Denzel Washington and Unforgiven winning over the non-nominated X. Nothing against Pacino and Clint Eastwood, but those were essentially token 'career achievement awards,' as both films did not even come close to representing their best work.

Another reason that these Oscars were maybe not as popular was the complete dominance of foreign winners and nominees. Let's take a look, shall we? Javier Bardem (Spain) took home Best Supporting Actor. Tilda Swinton (England) won Best Supporting Actress. Daniel Day-Lewis (Ireland) won Best Actor. Marion Cotillard (France) won Best Actress. On top of that, you have the duo of Glen Hansard (Ireland) and Marketa Irglova (Czechoslovakia) taking home the Best Original Song award! I can't believe there are people out there who would let this affect their judgment of the awards, but then again, nothing surprises me about ignorance in America.

The show itself was great, especially for a show that came together in such a little amount of time. Jon Stewart was funny, scratch that, very funny. This year we were spared the usually ridiculously elaborate staged numbers such as dance numbers for costume design or an 'it' singer (i.e. Beyonce) performing all of the nominated songs. Aside from the really dumb effects-laden intro and the even more absurd song presentations from Enchanted, the show was well put together. I even liked the parody 'tributes' to 'binoculars and periscopes' and 'bad dreams.' Hilarious. But the truly memorable moments came with the deserved winners and heartfelt speeches, or lack thereof and makeup moments. Javier Bardem's speech in Spanish to his mother was tearjerking. Marion Cotillard's utter shock was its equal. But the real magic came when, after the orchestra cut off Marketa Irglova as she approached microphone, Jon Stewart saved the day by bringing her out, post-commercial, to let her have her say. "Fair play to those who dream," was her message, trumpeting the work of independent musicians, and I couldn't help but tear up. This after a blowhard cinematographer at the Independent Spirit Awards complained about having to 'sacrifice' by taking only $3000 a week for his work. What a jackass. When you make more than 'a living' in doing some thing you love, you have no right to complain. Period.

This year's Oscars will always retain a special place in my heart, not only for the fact that there were some amazing films represented, or that there were some amazing speeches. It's special because of the music of Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova and their little movie called Once. The music of Glen Hansard, the Frames, and his music with Irglova has always moved me, but in the context of the film it became even more meaningful. For the fact that this song beat out three Alan Menken tunes from Enchanted, a man who was won a total of 8 Oscars for Disney dreck, it means that people in the Academy shared my view. Fair play to those who dream...