The Oscars: Hollywood's public act of self-love. Amazing they haven't gone blind yet.—
Phineas Fahrquar (@irishspy) February 24, 2013
Ugh. The Oscars. Self-congratulatory ego wank.—
Jason Jordan (@jasonjordan) February 23, 2013
Heh. In case you hadn’t heard, Hollywood’s annual spectacle of self-indulgence takes place Sunday evening. One thing observers of all political stripes can agree on: Tinseltown’s egotism is out of control.
I have a really unnatural hatred of the Oscars. Just a whole show of back-patting and self-love.—
Big Big Ben (@BigBigBen) February 23, 2013
Gah. And tomorrow is Smugsterbation Day aka Liberal Xmas aka Oscars.—
Lulu Lapin (@Lulu_Lapin) February 24, 2013
There is no group more deserving of snark than the bloated, self-important, vacuous-minded Hollywood un-intelligentsia: Oscars, here I come—
Ben Whitney (@notsupergrover) February 23, 2013
I used to like the Oscars. Now all the excess/vanity seems a bit obscene.—
Laura R. McGee (@DeepSouthAKGirl) February 24, 2013
Writer David Edelstein sums up the cinema circus well:
These days, Oscar season is practically 365 days a year, but there is still plenty of time for other prizes, from the Golden Globes to the Emmys, Grammys, and even the featherbrained People’s and Critics’ Choice awards. Once you could be an indie maverick—but indie movies now have their own competitions, one of which takes place on the eve of the Academy Awards, allowing winners to console each other over Oscar snubs. Film festivals in cities large and small inject suspense with jury and audience prizes. By the time a winner stands at the Oscars podium, he or she might have given the same acceptance speech a dozen times. And it’s not just movies that have been transformed by competition. Can you imagine an Ed Sullivan–like variety show nowadays without a contest in which one performer is ultimately declared the tiptop X-factored idol?
Yes, to some degree, it has always been so. In ancient Greece, playwrights competed. Artists and composers competed for patrons. All works of art compete in the collective memory, with time the ultimate arbiter. Shakespeare lives, Henleyrood not so much. (I made up Henleyrood—he stands for the ones you’ve never heard of.)
But it has gotten way out of hand.
Well, here’s a thought:
Twitchy will have comprehensive coverage of the Night of the Exploding Egos. We watch and curate…so you don’t have to!