If ever there was a distraction from the real business of making films… it’s that little golden chub called Oscar and the prosthetically enhanced cleavages that will bobble along the red carpet and jiggle into the Kodak theatre in Hollywood tonight.
Money, Sex and Power form an UNHOLY TRINITY of never ending desire that shapes the lives of those who love to walk the red felt. The cynic in me says that it is not necessarily those who make the best film that hold aloft the golden chub but more correctly those who have the best publicist.
The unholy trinity is dangerous beast because it robs from us our first love; the passion that makes a little girl want to act, the fascination with image that causes a small boy to pick up a camera, the mysterious faith that causes a grown man to give up his well paid profession and dedicate his entire life to storytelling.
No amount of golden chubs or surgically enhanced cleavages will ever get near to rivaling the beauty and the raging passion of our first loves; though they promise much, they deliver little…
What could be more holy than taking the weight off a working man’s shoulders and allowing him to laugh like he hasn’t laughed since he was a boy… for those two hours at the cinema? What could be more rewarding than creating a character whose search for love speaks so profoundly to her audience, that it brings them to tears?
What award, what recognition, what financial gain could possible compare to the joy of giving to your audience in this way?