IT'S ACADEMIC

OK, here's the deal. I'm pretty sure the Beautiful People are furiously scribbling away trying to complete the nomination process for the Academy Awards. The nominees are unveiled on February 11th, and for the umpteenth year in a row, nobody bothered to ask me what I thought about anything, even though it seems to me that the public ought to have a say in some of these things once in a while. I mean, if all we get is those stupid People's Choice Awards, we're floatin' in a bowl of trouble, folks.

So, what I'm gonna do here, is project this here message to as many of the A.M.P.A.S. crowd as will read it, in hopes that it will shake loose an original thought or two, and maybe some justice will be done.

LISTEN UP, ACADEMY VOTERS! THE DOCTOR IS IN!

How-doo, balloteers! Dr. V. B. Daniel here. Some of you know me, some don't. Some know, but pretend they don't. Some don't, but pretend they do. Etcetera.

I just wanted to share a couple or four things before you you put your Number Two Eberhard-Faber on your punch-card. See, movie fans like me get a little perterberated when y'all throw a roomful of awards to one movie, and leave a bunch of better efforts dangling in the breeze. You've got a long and memorable record of ignoring the worthy, in favor of the scurvy. Remember Alfred Hitchcock, Cary Grant, Martin Scorsese, Harrison Ford? Remember Fantasia, Dr. Strangelove, Do the Right Thing, and E.T.? Oh, you do? Well, you sure forgot 'em when doling out little gold men in years gone by.

Let's start with the Best Supporting Actress award. We all know that you gotta nominate Joan Allen and Marion Ross. Joan was pack-a-wallop good in The Crucible, sure, and Richie Cunningham's momma was the only watchable thing about The Evening Star. Your minds may be pretty made up about the other three spaces on the bill. Try to ignore the Golden Globe curse and think hard about giving in to the sentiment around Lauren Bacall for The Mirror Has Two Faces. She did only a pretty good job in a pretty bloated movie. What you ought to do is give credit where it's due and flip one for Renee Zellweger's performance in Jerry Maguire. Here's a thought. Go back to the summer and remind yourself that Meg Ryan kicked boo-tay in Courage Under Fire, the American version of Rashomon.

All aboard the Best Supporting Actor train. You probably feel like you need to be P.C. and go with Samuel L. Jackson for A Time To Kill, because you robbed him naked for Pulp Fiction. Well, while you're in a summery mood, throw a bone to Cheech Marin for Tin Cup. Hell, you made Marisa Tomei a household name, and Chong's better half was ten times better than her. I figure William Macy's bit in Fargo is a worthwhile buzzer, but, for sheer magnetism and riveting it-ness, the best supporting effort all annum was Cuba Gooding, Jr.'s turn in Jerry Maguire. He managed to steal a chunk of celluloid from a fab Tom Cruise, which ain't an easy task, you know? Oh, and I know everybody's collecting bus fare for the Edward Norton roadtrip, either for Larry Flynt , Everybody Says I Love Woody Allen, or Primal Fear. Good choice, but be sure you single him out for his Primal Fear performance.

Here's where the quandry begins. With the Best Actress award, you got a whale of a problem. Granted, Frances McDormand deserves a pregnant pause for Fargo, as does Courtney Love for Larry Flynt. If you have any sense in your collective head, wake up and smell the coffee that is Debbie Reynolds in Mother. Use your Bacall sentiment there. I do think the Golden Globes were on the money with their recognition of Brenda Blethyn in the little-seen Secrets and Lies, so keep her in the mix. For someone like that, the nomination is as good as the award. Were the Golden Globes right with Madonna's slamdunk of Evita? That's up to you. I know a lot of you think all she did was sing, and, true, the movie was a pseudo rock opera rather than a major Emma Thompson costumes-in-a-parlor drama. You guys have to decide if she was acting or if she was singing. You knock her out of the loop, who do you go with? Gwyneth Paltrow's Emma got burned out of the forest over Christmas. Is your memory that good? Shirley MacLaine? Not if you actually sat through The Evening Star. Maybe a sensible choice is Kristen Scott Thomas in The English Patient. Hey! You want to see all of Hollywood go stone-blind crazy? How about Glenn Close in 101 Dalmatians? Tee, hee. Here me chuckle at the prospects. It's out-and-out the most enthralling, full-throttle female performance of the year, in a movie that made a ton of money. Nah, it'll never happen.

A further problem in the Best Actor category. Cruise is the front-runner. Harrelson a close second. Ralph Feinnes could muscle his way in there, too. But, see, the Golden Globers threw you a curve with Geoffrey Rush winning for Shine. He was way good in it, but I bet when the Oscar snoozies sat down with their stack of tapes and had to choose between foreign tear-jerkers, most everyone was gonna pop in The English Patient. But now the Foreign Press has commanded that you pay him some mind, and he could sneak in the back door and pull a Daniel Day-Lewis and win the whole shebang. Here lies your problem, people. The Evita connundrum again. Was Antonio Banderas acting or singing while he was in every scene of Evita, and, if he was acting, was his performance a lead role or a supporting role? I tend to think that, while he was digging out a great performance, he was in a supporting role. You nominate him for Best Actor, you catch flack from the critics. You nominate him for Best Supporting Actor, you throw that whole category into a dither that will piss everybody off. Whatcha gonna do? A quick reminder: John Travolta revved his horsepowers for Phenomenon and Michael, and it's time you made up for ignoring his mondo extravago turn in Get Shorty. I tell you something else, friends and neighbors, you drop Banderas, you have room to recognize one of the biggest no-name talents in the business. Billy Bob Thornton, and his no-name film Sling Blade. When he gets a budget to work with, Thornton's gonna creep up and wax all of your butts pretty soon, so you might want to kiss up to him now while you got the chance. And, if you're feeling merciful, how 'bout a tickle or two for Eddie Murphy's versatile reality as The Nutty Professor?

The Best Director award is where you get to show a little recognition for the young guns. Joel Coen for Fargo is a must, because you guys have ignored the Coen brothers' talent since they made the funniest comedy of the past twenty years, Raising Arizona. Gotta give a little boost to the voice of the Pepsi generation, Cameron Crowe. But, then, you get to pick from Danny Boyle (Trainspotting, a movie that deserves some kind of nod somewhere), Mike Leigh (Secrets and Lies), Anthony Minghella (The English Patient), and Scott Hicks (Shine). Just remember to save room for Milos Forman, because he should get the key to the country club. What I want to know is, are you gonna finally give a hint of a nod to the best filmmaker in the business that never won a thing? John Sayles deserves a legitimate nomination for Lone Star, and, if you do go that way, watch out for him to tiptoe up and win the award, based on his body of work. If you gotta stay safe, put a checkmark by Kenneth Branagh, if for nothing more than his humongous cajones at delivering a four-hour Shakespeare flick featuring Billy Crystal and Robin Williams.

Okay, the Big Daddy, Best Picture. Be brave, folks. We all know Jerry Maguire and Larry Flynt are the big pushes here. Shine should be on your list to represent all those other little films you won't think about, like Secrets and Lies, Breaking the Waves, and Big Night. I'm pretty sure Fargo will catch the "we have to do a summer movie" vote. But, as I said, be brave. Nominate John Sayles' Lone Star for Best Picture. Sleep well at night.

Well, I gotta go. I got a 10:30 abcess to drain. Y'all keep in touch, and we'll see what you do in March.

Yours very truly,

Dr. Daniel