They're out, and they're more disappointing than usual, I think. The omission of Milk from the Best Picture (Drama) shortlist is an outright schande (as is the omission of Gus Van Sant from Best Director), and the inclusion of the The Reader in that same list is insult added to injury. Yes, Holocaust movies have serious clout at awards time, but usually they score better than the low 60s at Rotten Tomatoes. And though I'm glad to see Slumdog Millionaire among the nominees, and for all I know Frank Langella's turn as Tricky Dick makes Frost/Nixon worthwhile, the fact that Benjamin Button was written by the same guy who adapted Forrest Gump gives me pause, and Revolutionary Road... I dunno. At least Doubt isn't there.
I know it wasn't the best year for movies, but this list is so predictable and middlebrow-posing-as-highbrow that it saddens me a bit. Streep and Penn probably have the Best Actor/Actress (Drama) statuettes locked up (unless Winslet nabs Actress, which is possible); the Best Actor/Actress (Comedy) categories should be more interesting. And if you think Heath Ledger won't win Best Supporting Actor, you're as crazy as the Joker. (Sorry, I had to.) In Best Pic (Comedy), I hope Vicky Cristina Barcelona savages Burn After Reading. One thing's for sure: If Oscar slights Milk the way the Foreign Press Association did, I'm going to be seriously upset.
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