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Tag: To Leslie

  • Mondo Bullshittio #46: The Inquiry Into Andrea Riseborough’s Oscar Nomination

    Mondo Bullshittio #46: The Inquiry Into Andrea Riseborough’s Oscar Nomination

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    In a series called Mondo Bullshittio, let’s talk about some of the most glaring hypocrisies and faux pas in pop culture… and all that it affects.

    Well before the Oscar nominations were officially announced, there were “whisperings” of the “suspect” campaign that seemed to come out of nowhere with regard to well-known members of the Hollywood elite touting the performance of Andrea Riseborough in To Leslie. That “campaign” (which cost literally nothing next to the monetary amount required for the ad space most other people espousing a film for Academy Award consideration “have to” plunk down) consisted essentially of director Michael Morris and his wife, Mary McCormack, rallying fellow celebrities to watch the movie and tout it on their social media accounts if they liked it. Harmless enough, right? Especially compared to how other nominations have been secured in the past (that is, with gobs and gobs of money and quid pro quo antics). Not to the “scandalized” Academy. No, they felt that Riseborough’s nomination was so suspicious and rife with dubious motivations that they decided to launch an inquiry into it. After all, it has been branded as “one of the most shocking nominations in Oscar history.” How could they not humor those outraged by the decision with the pageantry of an “investigation”?

    And yet, had the Academy been investigating a slew of other nominations, they might have found far more muck to rake. Regardless, all of the sudden, Academy members and vested award participants were extremely interested in the importance of adhering to a document entitled “Regulations Concerning the Promotion of Films Eligible for the Academy Awards.” In it, there’s a section called, “c. Mailings may not include.” Under the first article in that umbrella is: “Personal signature, personal regards, or pleas to watch the film.” Although actors and actresses (including Kate Winslet, Edward Norton, Charlize Theron, Sarah Paulson, Gwyneth Paltrow, Demi Moore, Cate Blanchett, Jennifer Aniston, Courteney Cox, Jane Fonda, Mia Farrow, Mira Sorvino, Jamie Lee Curtis, Michelle Monaghan, Laura Dern and Kim Basinger) extolling the virtues of Riseborough’s performance weren’t doing so in any “mailings,” apparently their gushing fervor expressed in a public space (mainly Twitter and Instagram) was enough to loosen the meaning of the word. Hence the Academy responding to the fury, complete with accusations of a CAA-fueled conspiracy afoot as many of the actors praising Riseborough’s performance are repped by that agency. Of course, Riseborough, too, is also represented by said agency. Cue more infuriated cries of, “J’accuse!”

    Talk of Riseborough’s manager, Jason Weinberg, being the main catalyst behind getting Riseborough and Morris’ “little film” so much traction was corroborated by the likes of Jeremy O. Harris, who stated in January, “This man did a group chat Oscar campaign for a client he has seen work her ass off for years with little to [no] recognition who gave a daring performance in a small picture and it worked. This should be studied.” But director Morris himself was to thank for securing Charlize Theron (who Riseborough, as Leslie, is channeling a bit…namely, when Theron played Aileen Wuornos in Monster) to introduce the movie at a November screening where she proselytized the film’s greatness. And that’s what truly upped the momentum for the little indie performance that could. By the end of November ’22, Riseborough had secured an Independent Spirit Award nomination for Best Lead Performance.

    This wasn’t enough to sway the voters behind the nominations for the Golden Globe Awards or the Critics Choice Awards, but nothing could stop the momentum by this point, as Morris phoned in another friend in Gwyneth Paltrow, who trumpeted Riseborough’s brilliance in early January, insisting that Riseborough ought to win “every award there is and all the ones that haven’t been invented yet.” The SAG Awards nominations subsequently tend to disagree. But by mid-January, it doesn’t matter. The unofficial campaign for the movie has spread to Alan Cumming—and everyone knows the gays give good word of mouth. And that, to boot, when a gay man has praised a dramatic performance, it’s all but assured a following.

    The real problem, though? The push for Riseborough, in many people’s eyes, is a detriment and cloak of invisibility to Viola Davis. Specifically for her performance in The Woman King. And when Riseborough seemingly did “oust” Davis, taking “her place” among Best Actress Academy Award nominees Michelle Williams, Cate Blanchett, Ana de Armas (what the fuck—it’s even more insulting because Marilyn herself was never nominated for an Oscar) and Michelle Yeoh, the backlash veered into full-on “Beyoncé should have won Album of the Year” territory. Except, in this case, it’s a white lady instead of a white man and the performance is actually pretty fire instead of fairly forgettable. Nonetheless, the director of The Woman King, Gina Prince-Bythewood, was certain to announce that “the Academy made a very loud statement [in shutting out Davis] and for me to stay quiet is to accept that statement.” Many were of the same belief regarding not just the lack of Black female representation in the category, but the fact that Riseborough appeared to be getting the Oscar campaign equivalent of nepo baby treatment. With so many influential people advocating her performance, it somehow made the masses actually focus less on that, and more on how white folks are effortlessly guided into a Cinderella story at every turn.

    Appropriately, To Leslie itself is a kind of fairy tale. Or rather, a “semi-realistic” one. A story of an underdog who manages to pull herself up out of a very deep hole against all the odds. But, just as Riseborough, she has quite a bit of help to achieve that feat. Does that make her achievement less valid? It depends, of course, on who you ask. But there’s no denying that the real reason the Academy bothered to launch an inquiry at all was a result of the #OscarsSoWhite-oriented heat they were getting for Viola Davis’ absence, not to mention Danielle Deadwyler’s for her performance in Till. It was ultimately this politically incorrect faux pas that really spurred the organization’s investigation into the “tactics” used to secure the nomination. Barely a week later, as everyone expected (because everyone knew it was bullshit to call the kettle black on any “untoward” methods for lobbying for a movie or its lead actors), the CEO of the Academy, Bill Kramer, confirmed that Riseborough’s nomination would stand.

    Alas, by loosely pinning a “lobbying scandal” on Riseborough (because that’s whose name comes to mind above everybody else’s when all is said and done), the Academy can continue to avoid any true responsibility for its own actions. Or rather, what Prince-Bythewood might call its “loud” nomination choices. All while Riseborough somehow ends up being painted as the “bad guy” and the “overrated actress” of the scenario. And so, all this pomp and circumstance turns out to be more of a bane than a blessing for Riseborough and her talent in the end. Especially if she actually ends up winning.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • To Leslie: A Semi-Realistic Fairy Tale

    To Leslie: A Semi-Realistic Fairy Tale

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    As Vivian Ward in Pretty Woman once said, “People put you down enough, you start to believe it.” That statement couldn’t be any truer for washed-up alcoholic Leslie Rowlands (Andrea Riseborough), a proverbial small-town girl whose only achievement in life has been winning the lottery at her favorite local bar in West Texas. Although only a “modest sum” of $190,000, it’s enough to make Leslie’s head get a little too big as she proceeds to party the funds away. All while her parents, thirteen-year-old son, James (later played by Owen Teague), and sister, Nancy (Allison Janney), watch.

    It is the latter and her husband, Dutch (Stephen Root), who end up helping raise James when Leslie decides to leave “just so you can go out drinkin’ [and] thinkin’ you’re hot shit,” as Nancy puts it. Of course, anyone who has been an alcoholic or known one is aware of the seduction that the bottle holds. And it’s far greater than the appeal of being a Responsible Adult. Which is why, at the time, Leslie doesn’t feel so bad about the abandonment, sinking deeper and deeper into her hole of addiction and financial ruin. As she confesses to her employer-turned-semi-boyfriend/custodian, Sweeney (Marc Maron), “I was happy to have a break, okay? I partied and I didn’t mean to spend it all. I lost everything and I had to file for bankruptcy. So yeah, I left him.”

    Leslie’s explanation cuts to the core of Ernest Hemingway’s iconic dialogue from The Sun Also Rises: “‘How did you go bankrupt?’ Bill asked. ‘Two ways,’ Mike said. ‘Gradually, then suddenly.’” And when you’re “flush,” everyone around you wants to cash in on it as well, which is precisely what happened with Leslie, as she undoubtedly ordered rounds for everyone in the bar each time she went out. And, to the point of Nancy mocking her for thinking she was “hot shit,” Leslie still seems to be laboring under that misconception while she shamelessly flirts with men at bars to attempt getting her tab covered in her present state of broke assery.

    Ten years ago, it might have worked, but in the now, she’s become the proverbial “sad bar troll.” The one who stayed at the fair too long and currently looks like a bedraggled carny. And, talking of carnies, screenwriter Ryan Binaco (whose only previous writing credit is 3022) seems to want to emulate the message of William Lindsay Gresham’s Nightmare Alley (another lurid tale about an alcoholic hitting rock bottom after experiencing life at “the top”). A novel (and movie) that reiterates to the “little people” that they should be happy with their lot in life before they go trying to reach for the stars. To Leslie does something similar, being that Leslie is a woman determined to believe that the money will change her and her son’s lot in life. But, as Somen a.k.a. Steve’s mom in Welcome to Chippendales warns, “Some people are not meant to be rich.” For when you’re born fundamentally “gauche” (see also: The Beverly Hillbillies), you’ll only end up either 1) squandering it all or 2) constantly wanting more—never “just” being satisfied with the fluke of a come-up you’ve already gotten.

    In Leslie’s case, it’s the former category, and she pays a much higher price for ever having been “rich” in the first place—a heavenly blip in time that hardly compares to the hell she’s expected to spend the rest of her life in now—than she would have if she had gone on as an “ordinary” woman. That is to say, someone who kept their head down and kept working some banal job without letting “grand” ideas of being wealthy get the better of them. Even though we live in a society that preys on this naïve hope of the plebes every day (*cough cough* the very existence of the lottery and its nonstop barrage of ads peddling notions of hitting the big time with no effort except the purchase of a ticket). It’s also sometimes better known as capitalism.

    And once Leslie loses all her money, she also loses her entire sense of worth. Something that Sweeney, who manages the cheap roadside motel that his friend, Royal (Andre Royo), owns, has to help remind Leslie of as she makes slow progress on getting sober and actually doing the job she was hired for: cleaning the rooms. But, to bring up something else the aforementioned Vivian Ward said, “The bad stuff is easier to believe. Ever notice that?” It would be difficult for Leslie not to, what with all the “townfolk” constantly talking about what a fuck-up she is. But Sweeney tells her point-blank, “You’re not the piece of shit that everybody says you are.” In this regard, To Leslie additionally emphasizes that sometimes it only takes one person to believe in you in order for you to believe in yourself again. Just as it was for Vivian with Edward in Pretty Woman. And yeah, Leslie would probably be prostituting herself if there was more male interest actually shown in the “product.”

    Instead, she accepts the only job she’s miraculously offered: hotel maid. And all because Sweeney sees her homeless, drunken state and takes pity on her. Only to return his charity by later seething, while sober, “I’m fuckin’ stuck here with you and Royal—a pair of fuckin’ hilljacks like the shit icing on my shit fuckin’ life.” Sweeney reminds, “Me and Royal are the best thing that happened to you. So don’t call us names. And your family won’t talk to you because they shouldn’t after what you did. But you’re livin’, right?” She bursts out laughing at the “consolation” as he continues, “I’m sorry it ain’t a fairy tale, we all shoulda done things differently. But you’re what’s wrong with your life, not anyone else.”

    Royal expresses a similar sentiment when he tells Leslie at a town gathering, “Now everyone thinks they should be livin’ some life out the movies. Life is hard. Stop actin’ like it ain’t.” But even To Leslie, for all its bleakness, cannot fully surrender to giving its anti-heroine a totally dreary ending. Even if it might seem that way by Hollywood standards, with The Hollywood Reporter praising, “Recalls the grit of 1970s American indie cinema at its most indelible.” Yet, if that were an accurate comparison, somebody would end up either dead or heartbroken (e.g., Looking For Mr. Goodbar and Five Easy Pieces, respectively). Neither of which happens in To Leslie, a film that ultimately wants to declare to the masses that it’s okay to just be “ordinary.” To have modest dreams instead of lofty visions of fame and fortune. An assurance that probably means nothing in this world of “viral fame”-seeking whores who will have to learn the hard way that capitalism only favors a plebeian “come-up” for so long before cutting them down to size again.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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