Let's compare the
last film I went to in 2012 with the first I've attended in 2013:
- Bladder-friendly narrative economy: 157 minutes vs. 97; no contest.
- Miscarriage of justice: 19 years at hard labor and unending postparole harassment for stealing a loaf of bread in the late 18th century vs. persistent court refusal to grant custody of an ungainly teenager with Down syndrome to the only people who love and want him because they are a gay couple in the late 1970s; Les Miz, but it's close.
- Diva moment: Anne Hathaway belting about dreaming a dream vs. Alan Cumming lip-synching to "One Monkey Don't Stop No Show"; it's a push.
Unsubtle, deck-stacked, but lovely and heart-wrenching. If nothing else, this will give me something to associate with
Garret Dillahunt other than the cowardly murderer and the sociopathic murderer he played in consecutive seasons of
Deadwood. I spent the entire film pitying him his grotesque hair, and all the more so once I realized that it was exactly my hair in that era. As for Cumming, I've never included him on the list of guys I'd change teams for, but I think I need to reconsider, notwithstanding his odd attempt at a Queens accent.
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