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DID YOU READ

Tim Grierson Defends the Never-Ending Oscar Season

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Summer movie season is over, but before you can even catch your breath, boom, we find ourselves in the midst of the major fall film festivals: Venice, Telluride and Toronto. These festivals are the launching pad for some of the year’s first serious Academy Award contenders, which might seem ridiculous since the Oscars take place February 24. (That’s more than five months from now.) Nonetheless, from here on out we’re going to be hearing nonstop discussion about what movies and what performances have the inside track for awards. It’s a tiring, silly season. And yet, all in all, I still think it’s pretty terrific.

While most people happily go about their lives not caring a lick about the Oscars until the night of the broadcast, there are whole industries (and several websites) devoted to a year-round obsession with who might win those prizes. It starts in January with the Sundance Film Festival, which this year unveiled the critically acclaimed indie hit “Beasts of the Southern Wild,” and then picks up a little steam in May when the Cannes Film Festival occurs. But early September is when award-mania really begins, and in the last few days there have been glowing reviews for the likes of Paul Thomas Anderson’s “The Master” and Ben Affleck’s “Argo.” But beyond discussing how good these movies are, there’s also a lot of idle speculation about these films’ Oscar chances, as if such a thing could (or should) be quantified.

It’s this element of award handicapping that film critics like me find distasteful. Rather than debating an ambitious movie’s merits or dissecting its thematic intentions, the media spends an inordinate amount of time trying to guess how the approximately 5,500 members of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences will feel about the film. The Oscar season reduces an art form to a popularity contest, rewarding movies that are, by consensus, deemed to be “good,” which often disqualifies stronger, nervier films simply because they’re too divisive.

So why do I look forward to this season more than any other?

In part, it’s because Oscar season is the one time of year when a movie’s quality really matters. We’re inundated with awards in the buildup to the Academy Awards — everything from the Golden Globes to prizes from critics’ organizations (including the Los Angeles Film Critics Association, of which I’m a member) — which can make the fall feel like an interminable slog of endless trophies and speeches. But in their own way, each stop on the award-season calendar is an attempt to celebrate the best in filmmaking. Rather than focusing on box office or celebrities, awards are supposed to be based on artistic quality, and while we can all argue about how successful any of these groups are in picking what the “best” movies are, it does shift the focus back to the craftsmanship and skill of the work.

That should be obvious, but sadly it’s not. Anyone who follows film at all knows that it’s a business like any other — it exists to make money. This isn’t something that suddenly happened in Hollywood — from its beginning, the industry wanted to reap profits through any means that it could. That’s why, as frustratingly imperfect as it is, I’m grateful that the endless award season does at least serve as a reminder that movies should be about more than just grosses. The season creates a conversation about what constitutes greatness: Is it a film that stirs your soul? Is it one that leaves you feeling good? Is it one that challenges you? Audiences and critics alike debate these questions all the time, but it’s only really when we get close to the Oscars that those debates take center stage. Let’s not be naïve: The Oscars are about money as well. But, in theory, award season focuses on movies that are actually good, and I’m always in favor of discussing good movies as opposed to wasting time yapping about bad sequels and tired reboots.

Since I tend to be an Oscar apologist, it probably won’t surprise you to learn that I grew up watching the Academy Awards. From an early age, I was attracted to this notion of a group of seemingly wise, seasoned professionals deciding what the best movies were. As you get older, you realize that these professionals are no wiser than anybody else, but what has stayed with me is this notion that the Academy Awards matter — that they coronate films and performances, giving them an immortality they might not otherwise have. (And, of course, that can be a double-edged sword: We all have our own list of movies we can’t believe won Best Picture.) Maybe I’m holding onto that childhood idealism a little too tightly, but nonetheless I take award season seriously because, at the end of it, there are going to be Oscars given out, and I’m concerned that they go to the right people. I realize how ridiculous that is to say: I have no control over the process. But because I’ve loved movies all my life, I feel like I have a stake in how the Academy makes their decisions. I think we all do, despite being powerless to affect the outcome. That’s why I’m less interested in all the endless handicapping — I just care that the voters get it right.

Cynics and realists will probably scoff at this. It’s stupid to care what a bunch of people I’ve never met think is Best Picture. What makes a movie “best” anyway? I don’t know, and nobody else does, either. But I think that’s the point. The completely ludicrous impossibility of deciding what movie is best is what makes it so fascinating. It is, by nature, subjective — no movie beats another movie in the Super Bowl to decide the champion — so it comes down to our biases and preferences. When we’re discussing what movies we love, we’re really talking about what we love and who we are. For all the money and hoopla surrounding the Oscars, I find that I’m less interested in a specific movie winning than I am in getting to the heart of our love for great movies. Award season isn’t so much about that, I realize, but for me it is. I just hope I’m not alone in feeling that way.

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Hacked In

Funny or Die Is Taking Over

FOD TV comes to IFC every Saturday night.

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We’ve been fans of Funny or Die since we first met The Landlord. That enduring love makes it more than logical, then, that IFC is totally cool with FOD hijacking the airwaves every Saturday night. Yes, that’s happening.

The appropriately titled FOD TV looks like something pulled from public access television in the nineties. Like lo-fi broken-antenna reception and warped VHS tapes. Equal parts WTF and UHF.

Get ready for characters including The Shirtless Painter, Long-Haired Businessmen, and Pigeon Man. They’re aptly named, but for a better sense of what’s in store, here’s a taste of ASMR with Kelly Whispers:

Watch FOD TV every Saturday night during IFC’s regularly scheduled movies.

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Wicked Good

See More Evil

Stan Against Evil Season 1 is on Hulu.

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Okay, so you missed the entire first season of Stan Against Evil. There’s no shame in that, per se. But here’s the thing: Season 2 is just around the corner and you don’t want to lag behind. After all, Season 1 had some critical character development, not to mention countless plot twists, and a breathless finale cliffhanger that’s been begging for resolution since last fall. It also had this:

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The good news is that you can catch up right now on Hulu. Phew. But if you aren’t streaming yet, here’s a basic primer…

Willards Mill Is Evil

Stan spent his whole career as sheriff oblivious to the fact that his town has a nasty curse. Mostly because his recently-deceased wife was secretly killing demons and keeping Stan alive.

Demons Really Want To Kill Stan

The curse on Willards Mill stipulates that damned souls must hunt and kill each and every town sheriff, or “constable.” Oh, and these demons are shockingly creative.

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They Also Want To Kill Evie

Why? Because Evie’s a sheriff too, and the curse on Willard’s Mill doesn’t have a “one at a time” clause. Bummer, Evie.

Stan and Evie Must Work Together

Beating the curse will take two, baby, but that’s easier said than done because Stan doesn’t always seem to give a damn. Damn!

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Beware of Goats

It goes without saying for anyone who’s seen the show: If you know that ancient evil wants to kill you, be wary of anything that has cloven feet.

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Season 2 Is Lurking

Scary new things are slouching towards Willards Mill. An impending darkness descending on Stan, Evie and their cohort – eviler evil, more demony demons, and whatnot. And if Stan wants to survive, he’ll have to get even Stanlier.

Stan Against Evil Season 1 is now streaming right now on Hulu.

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SO EXCITED!!!

Reminders that the ’90s were a thing

"The Place We Live" is available for a Jessie Spano-level binge on Comedy Crib.

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Unless you stopped paying attention to the world at large in 1989, you are of course aware that the ’90s are having their pop cultural second coming. Nobody is more acutely aware of this than Dara Katz and Betsy Kenney, two comedians who met doing improv comedy and have just made their Comedy Crib debut with the hilarious ’90s TV throwback series, The Place We Live.

IFC: How would you describe “The Place We Live” to a fancy network executive you just met in an elevator?

Dara: It’s everything you loved–or loved to hate—from Melrose Place and 90210 but condensed to five minutes, funny (on purpose) and totally absurd.

IFC: How would you describe “The Place We Live” to a drunk friend of a friend you met in a bar?

Betsy: “Hey Todd, why don’t you have a sip of water. Also, I think you’ll love The Place We Live because everyone has issues…just like you, Todd.”

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IFC: When you were living through the ’90s, did you think it was television’s golden age or the pop culture apocalypse?


Betsy: I wasn’t sure I knew what it was, I just knew I loved it!


Dara: Same. Was just happy that my parents let me watch. But looking back, the ’90s honored The Teen. And for that, it’s the golden age of pop culture. 

IFC: Which ’90s shows did you mine for the series, and why?

Betsy: Melrose and 90210 for the most part. If you watch an episode of either of those shows you’ll see they’re a comedic gold mine. In one single episode, they cover serious crimes, drug problems, sex and working in a law firm and/or gallery, all while being young, hot and skinny.


Dara: And almost any series we were watching in the ’90s, Full House, Saved By the Bell, My So Called Life has very similar themes, archetypes and really stupid-intense drama. We took from a lot of places. 

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IFC: How would you describe each of the show’s characters in terms of their ’90s TV stereotype?

Dara: Autumn (Sunita Mani) is the femme fatale. Robin (Dara Katz) is the book worm (because she wears glasses). Candace (Betsy Kenney) is Corey’s twin and gives great advice and has really great hair. Corey (Casey Jost) is the boy next door/popular guy. Candace and Corey’s parents decided to live in a car so the gang can live in their house. 
Lee (Jonathan Braylock) is the jock.

IFC: Why do you think the world is ready for this series?

Dara: Because everyone’s feeling major ’90s nostalgia right now, and this is that, on steroids while also being a totally new, silly thing.

Delight in the whole season of The Place We Live right now on IFC’s Comedy Crib. It’ll take you back in all the right ways.