Frownie Brownie Oscars

Movies started out as a comic medium. With the birth of film around the turn of the 20th century, the first movies to be made were silent films, which relied heavily on comedic methods, such as slapstick and burlesque. Silent movie comic icons like Harold Lloyd, Buster Keaton, and Charlie Chaplin pantomimed their way into the hearts of Americans with their clownish, Keystone chase scenes and their charming characters like “The Tramp.” When reliable synchronized sound was introduced into movies in the 1920’s, comedy films could take humor to new levels. Jokes could now be incorporated into the dialogue and complex farces could be crafted. This would lead to the development of the subgenre of the comedy genre, called the screwball comedy, which gained prominence in the 1930’s with films like “The Awful Truth“ and “It Happened One Night.” Other groundbreaking screwball comedians, such as the Marx Brothers and the Three Stooges, emerged during this time period.

It is pretty clear that laughter has played a significant role in both the birth and the sustained popularity of film as an entertainment medium. So why is it then that when it comes to the Oscars, comedies tend to get the cold shoulder?

The Oscars have been around for more than three quarters of a century, yet only a handful of true comedies have managed to snag the big tuna, best picture prize. The most recent of which is Woody Allen’s “Annie Hall,” which won the best picture trophy in 1977. You do the math. That’s more than 30 years ago! While it’s true that 1998’s Oscar champ, “Shakespeare in Love,” can be classified as a comedy, this film is one of those sphinx-like, hybrid movies that is part comedy, part biopic, and part romance. Plus, it carries considerable tragic weightiness with it as well.

So after 30 solemn years, it would seem that the Oscars are long overdue to award an outstanding comedy film. Unfortunately, however, it looks as though humor will have to wait another year before it can even make an appearance at the Oscars, as apparently the Academy has fumigated for comedy this year and has removed all traces of laughtermites from the 2009 best picture line-up. The storylines of this year’s nominated films range from the heartbreaking journey of a young orphan from the slums of Mumbai in “Slumdog Millionaire” to an account of the tragically brief career of the first openly gay, American politician in “Milk.” These dramatic films may be wrought with emotional meatiness that tugs on heart strings, but let’s not forget that it is often comedic works that present the most lucid analysis of a society’s idiosyncrasies and apprehensions. Some fine comedy films to go unrecognized by this year’s Oscars include, “In Bruges,” “Happy-Go-Lucky,” and “Vicky Cristina Barcelona.” Two other noteworthy comedies that were at least nominated for Oscars are 2006’s “Little Miss Sunshine” and 2007’s “Juno.” These two films may not have been able to snag the best picture trophy, but they represent two of the more original and charismatic films to hit American theaters in a long time.

At the Oscars, it’s not just the best picture category that is typically anti-comedy. The best actor/actress categories also usually favor dramatic performances over comedic ones. Of the more than 300 acting Oscars that have been awarded, fewer than 30 of them have been handed out for performances whose emotional muscle had arisen mostly from the actor or actresses aptitude for tickling the audience’s funny bone. It is likely that this disparity exists on account of the perception that dramatic roles are more challenging to perform and are therefore more award-worthy. It may be true that for many comedies and comedic roles, the level of emotionality is about as weighty as Nicole Ritchie tied to a flotilla of helium balloons (take “City Slickers” or “Ace Ventura: Pet Detective” for example). Dramas and dramatic acting roles are capable of tapping into a broader and deeper range of emotions, which can include laughter and happiness, along with anger, and sadness, and the rest of the emotions gang. Whereas comedies and comedic acting roles tend to be restricted to communicating funniness, lest the humorific mood be spoiled. But this is by no means to say that dramas and dramatic roles truly are more laudable than comedic ones. The skill set used to craft commendable comedic performances is just different, that’s all. In fact, there is a saying that goes, “Dying is easy, comedy is hard.”

Perhaps the Oscars should take a lesson from the Golden Globes and create a separate category for comedies. After all, a distinct category for best animated film was made when it became apparent that animated films didn’t have a shot in hell of taking home an overall best picture trophy. So why not do the same for comedies? When Los Angles Times writer, Patrick Goldstein, posed the idea to the motion picture academy president, Sid Ganis, Mr. Ganis dismissed the idea, saying that if comedies have won the Oscar for best picture in the past, then why wouldn’t a deserving comedy be able to do so in the future? Well, Mr. Ganis, your response wreaks of the fumes of cop out. It seems pretty obvious that the message here is clear: Oscar is a drama queen.

I don't Tan, I burn.

It is officially official, Stacey and I have penetrated the inner swing circle at Henry’s, boo yah. No longer do we gawk Wilson from Home Improvement style at the swingers from our designated posts behind the dance floor’s partition. No siree, Bob. Now, when we make the swing scene, we roll patio side with our new, swingterranean chums, and it is glorious. We still look like buffoons on the dance floor, but it’s cool, a work in progress.

The swing dancers who frequent Henry’s Pub are like the cuddliest bunch of people that you will ever meet. They are all a pack of bouncy, saddle shoe wearing, teddy bears.

One such teddy bear stands out from among the crowd. His name is Tan and he is this scrawny, California born stick of energy who used to teach swing dancing lessons at UCSD but now works as a math teacher for rich folks’ kiddies down in Brazil.

Unfortunately, however, Tan was only in San Diego for about a month while his Brazilian school was on vacation. Nevertheless, I still got to get plenty of top-notch dances in with him before he had to fly the coop.

One Tuesday, I had to cut swing night short because I had to rise and shine at the ass crack of dawn the next day for a job interview. My Tancing buddy was not pleased with my early departure plan, so I pinky swore that we would dance together the next night until the sun came up. This was probably one of the more ill-advised phalange contracts that I little fingered my way into, since I’m fairly certain that it is Red Bull, not blood, that streams it’s way through Tan the man’s veins.

The next night was so much fun though. The festivities commenced with a swing dance lesson at UCSD conducted by two of Tan’s old chums and was followed by a trip to the Firehouse where Stacey and I dazzled the masses with our new swingtastic dance moves…and by “dazzled” I mean continued to look like buffoons.

Afterwards, we went downtown to hang out at the condo where Tan was staying while we was in town. Tan’s two Brazilian friends, who accompanied him on his trip back to SD, had us in stitches laughing all night regaling us with tales of their sleep walking adventures and near death experiences. There’s just something about animated broken English that makes me happy.

Anyways, at around 3 my goose was cooked (didn’t quite make it ’til sunrise, but close enough) so Tan drove Stacey and myself back to our apartment, sweet, apartment.

Then, about half an hour later, I got a call from Tan asking me out to lunch with him the next day. Mmm I’ll have the “Oh crap” mixed salad with a side of curly, “I think this is might be a date” fries.

Order up.

Yep, totally was a date. After we finished lunching at the Tai restaurant in Hillcrest, we took a leisurely stroll around the block, where crouching Tan, hidden motive made his move. The gist of the happening was…

Tan: “So I’m in the market for a girlfriend, any takers? …Bueller?”

Actually, if truth be told, Tan the man was out shopping for a wifey (I don’t know what it is about San Diego, but I have met so many early nesters out here!).

Frick on a stick. I felt so bad. I wanted to let the little guy down easy. He is so genuinely sweet, but I was so genuinely uninterested. Therefore, I went into “Ward off unwanted male attention” mode and applied a generous helping of “Let me tell you about my fake boyfriend” cream to the infected situation (Side effects may include: headache, nausea, sad puppy dog eyes, and persistent awkward silences).

After a solid ten minutes of side effect number 4, my dancin’ friend bounced back and we ended the afternoon with pleasantries and a friendly hug.

Thumbs down for date sniping.