Is there any living being alive — even a slug — who doesn’t know by now that the same four people who’ve won every acting award in tarnation are going to win the Oscars too?
Yes, as sure as silk, Colin Firth will be stoic, Natalie Portman will cry, Christian Bale will have bulging eyes, and Melissa Leo will be intensely wacky.
Bet your life on it. They will win.
And The King’s Speech, which has picked up momentum and just won a Producer’s Guild, a Director’s Guild, and a SAG, is going all the way to Best Picture, just as I said three months ago.
Remember when the Oscars were the proverbial last word on everything?
Now they’re the literal last word on everything.
They’re a total anticlimax now that everything’s been micromanaged, processed, and digested way before the Oscars even happen.
It’s so fucking predictable and redundant that you’ll surely be able to recite the six main speeches right along with the winners!
But I’ll watch anyway, for the outfits.