The Oscar nominees were announced yesterday. Just another reminder of how much my life has changed since having children two years ago. There was a time when I would have seen the vast majority of the nominated films by the this point in awards season.
I used to go to see particular films just because they were nominated. In fact, I felt it was important to see as many of the nominated films as possible and I loved discussing and debating performances, screenplays, and directors the way hardcore sports fans discuss games, plays, trades, coaches, and players.
I was, and will always be, a pop culture junkie. I still read Entertainment Weekly cover-to-cover every week and check in daily with entertainment news online.
Even though I could tell you the synopses of 98% of the nominated films, who stars in them, and some other bits and pieces of trivia about them, the lists are now mostly populated with films I will never see. And, really? I don’t care.
Yes, I’m sure Daniel Day-Lewis delivers an patently unbelievable performance in There Will Be Blood. Yes, I’m sure that the amazing Javier Bardem acts his way beyond his distractingly terrible haircut in No Country for Old Men. Yes, I’m sure that Atonement would be beautifully heart-wrenching enough to leave me crying in the aisles.
But, is that really the kind of movie I want to rent with my husband on a quiet night at home after a long arduous week of slugging it out in the non-profit trenches? Is that really the kind of film I’d like to experience on one of the extremely rare nights we have a babysitter? Truth be told, I’m much more interested in seeing Juno, or even Enchanted, or movies like Waitress and Ratatouille (two of the most enjoyable movies I’ve seen recently).
As someone who works in the arts, I understand the value of seeing these “important pictures” but, honestly? I’m just too tired to think about all the evils and injustices in the world.
So, I am making it official. As of today, I am going to officially hang up what’s left of my hipster cred and start coming to terms with who I really am: A 35 year-old mother of two, who lives and works in the suburbs, drives a mini-van, watches American Idol and The Biggest Loser religiously, and enjoys light-hearted and escapist cinematic romps that don't force me to think about all the yucky stuff that happens in the world.
There, I’ve admitted it.
Now, can someone get me a glass of water? I think I feel faint.
I used to go to see particular films just because they were nominated. In fact, I felt it was important to see as many of the nominated films as possible and I loved discussing and debating performances, screenplays, and directors the way hardcore sports fans discuss games, plays, trades, coaches, and players.
I was, and will always be, a pop culture junkie. I still read Entertainment Weekly cover-to-cover every week and check in daily with entertainment news online.
Even though I could tell you the synopses of 98% of the nominated films, who stars in them, and some other bits and pieces of trivia about them, the lists are now mostly populated with films I will never see. And, really? I don’t care.
Yes, I’m sure Daniel Day-Lewis delivers an patently unbelievable performance in There Will Be Blood. Yes, I’m sure that the amazing Javier Bardem acts his way beyond his distractingly terrible haircut in No Country for Old Men. Yes, I’m sure that Atonement would be beautifully heart-wrenching enough to leave me crying in the aisles.
But, is that really the kind of movie I want to rent with my husband on a quiet night at home after a long arduous week of slugging it out in the non-profit trenches? Is that really the kind of film I’d like to experience on one of the extremely rare nights we have a babysitter? Truth be told, I’m much more interested in seeing Juno, or even Enchanted, or movies like Waitress and Ratatouille (two of the most enjoyable movies I’ve seen recently).
As someone who works in the arts, I understand the value of seeing these “important pictures” but, honestly? I’m just too tired to think about all the evils and injustices in the world.
So, I am making it official. As of today, I am going to officially hang up what’s left of my hipster cred and start coming to terms with who I really am: A 35 year-old mother of two, who lives and works in the suburbs, drives a mini-van, watches American Idol and The Biggest Loser religiously, and enjoys light-hearted and escapist cinematic romps that don't force me to think about all the yucky stuff that happens in the world.
There, I’ve admitted it.
Now, can someone get me a glass of water? I think I feel faint.
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