BLOG: Let's Not Talk About the Oscars

It Begins Everyone gathered at the theater in giddy anticipation. After the months of speculation and excitement, the night was finally here. The crowd assembled from near and far, the famous and the infamous gathering in one spot, all eyes and ears focused on the host's words. But they knew that no matter how good or bad the host was, the real action wouldn't begin until the first name was called, when we could finally see who won and who lost. No, I'm not talking about the Oscars (if I could get away with it, I would never talk about the Oscars). I am speaking, of course, of the Minnesota Fringe Lottery. The regular complainers haven't yet started their normal diatribe against the non-juried aspect of our Fringe (mainly because they resent having to put in the thought and care required to find the best shows); but don't worry, it will happen eventually. It always does, especially this year, when the record number of applications led to a large number of Fringe darlings left on the wait list. I'll admit my bias freely: I love the Minnesota Fringe just as it is. It's barely-contained chaos with no quality control, and that's the way it should be. Even though I happen to work with one of those Fringe darlings that is sitting way down on the wait list and who will be inevitably used as an example of why the lottery doesn't work, I cheerfully defend the status quo. I will remind all lamenters that these beloved Fringe staples that you've come to know and love originally entered the Fringe on the lottery back when no one knew who they were, back when no jury in its right mind would have let them in. That's the way it churns. You have to turn the soil over from time to time, or the whole garden will suffer. But enough of my highly partisan fake journalism. Regardless of what any of us say, the lottery happened, and many people are pinning their hopes and dreams on that wait list shrinking. Between now and August, make sure to keep tabs on it to see if the number you're looking for moves up. But What About the Oscars?! Listen, bub, everyone and their mother was watching, talking, tweeting, facebooking, smoke signaling, semaphoring and writing complex allegorical novels about it. I didn't even watch the ceremony, but, somehow, when I woke up in the morning, I had absorbed so much background radiation from the zeitgeist that I knew from the weird tastes in my mouth who won what. I watched Ender's Game instead, which was also a questionable choice (though it does win my awards for "Best Example of Harrison Ford Grumpily Collecting a Paycheck" and "Best Waste of Ben Kingsley"). Even the Razzies were a bit boring and predictable this year. And I'm sorry to tell you, Minneapolis, but your hometown boy Barkhad Abdi was beaten out by Jared Leto. Don't worry about Abdi, though. I hear things are looking up for him. There are so many more important things to talk about here at home. What about a new mini-festival built for the vast majority of us who are neither "emerging" nor "established" artists? Or an update on how the business end of Mixed Blood's free ticket scheme is working? Or a story on how Pillsbury House is making headway figuring out what this "creative placemaking" business is all about? Or Arts Junkie's take on the real ten things Theatre should do to save itself. But It's the Oscars! You're not gonna let this go, are you? Listen, I'm willing to compromise and talk about Andrew Lloyd Webber's latest musical flopping harder than a dying catfish. But I Love The Oscars! Fine. Then let's talk about the Oscars. In fact, let's talk about all the protests and controversy swirling around far off of the red carpet. More specifically, right next to the red carpet: a group of union-represented security guards took to Hollywood Boulevard to protest the Academy's hiring of non-union security guards for the event. Come On, I Love The Dresses And The Speeches And Ellen Is Just So Endearing Nope. You wanted this. Now you deal with it. For the second year in a row, visual effects artists staged a protest hours before the celebrities started getting out of their limos. At issue is the accelerating erosion of visual effects jobs in the US as movie houses farm out CGI work to other countries. You might take this is more inevitable fallout of globalization, but it's important to note that VFX workers are one of the few groups in Hollywood without a union or guild. In the meantime the Motion Picture Association of America (which never passes up an opportunity to look like a villain) has successfully lobbied that that VFX work is not covered under international trade agreements and therefore an open field for other countries to freely subsidize. However, in a twist that should be in a movie, it turns out that the MPAA may have filed a brief with the government that undermines its own arguments. (Please note, Ms. Morissette: this is what "irony" is.) But, What About Travolta's Gaffe? Did you not hear me? What I am about to talk about is way more important than someone mispronouncing a name, so shut up and take your medicine, damn you! Recently, the mind-boggling hubris of the film industry resulted in the death of a crew member on a film shoot. Second camera assistant, Sarah Jones, died after a train rumbled through a shoot location on tracks that the film producers apparently did not bother to get permits to use. There's much to be made about how big money in the industry exploits people who go into the industry with stars in their eyes, and we can only hope that this incident really will force the industry to actually take a hard look at its practices In the mean time, a campaign was quickly put together to get Jones added to the "In Memoriam" segment at the Oscars. Even though at least one hard heart basically said "We have to think about all the famous people first," the Academy had the grace and humility to add Jones to their memoriam list… in the split second between when Bette Midler stopped singing and the next round of commercials started. You see, all you little people! You were listened to! Hey, look at this shiny stuff! It's neat, right? Now, go away!