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Blog: ‘Crash’ Beats Test of Oscar Memories

February 23, 2006

AP writers are covering the scene as Hollywood gets ready for its big night on March 5. They’ll be filing periodic reports on the goings-on as the perfect outfits are selected, the red carpet is readied and the gold statuettes are polished for the annual awards show.



``Crash″ seems so ancient to me that it feels like the Oscars are way behind the times in nominating it.

I’m not knocking the movie. I think it’s terrific. But I first saw it a year and a half ago when it premiered at the Toronto film fest, and the way all the festival flicks blend together in a bleary reporter’s brain from year to year, it feels like ``Crash″ has been crashing around in my noggin for a decade or so.

I guess that’s a good sign for the movie, that it’s soaked so deeply into the thin layer of sponge lining my skull. And I know it’s a good sign for Hollywood that ``Crash″ scored so well at the big Oscar clambake.

It’s the sort of sharp, complex, rule-busting film that studios, and even their edgier independent divisions, just wouldn’t make. So ``Crash″ had to go the purely independent route, shot on a tiny budget and loitering around the festival circuit in hope some amorous distributor would cruise by and invite it out to the picture show.

Luckily, Lionsgate had the right pickup line. Lionsgate is one of the few independents with the resources to put a film in front of a lot of eyeballs, turning ``Crash″ into a mini theatrical hit, a solid DVD success and now a contender for best-picture and five other categories at the Oscars.

I can understand why a film like ``Crash″ won’t fly in the dollars-are-us culling process through which studios decide what films will actually go to market.

Unless it’s Robert Altman or Paul Thomas Anderson in charge of the thing, ensemble films with a cast of a thousand-and-nine and 127 intersecting story lines are a tough sell for anyone.

I recall going into ``Crash″ expecting to come out with the reaction I have after most big, ambitious ensemble films: That it was well-acted, but the whole thing felt about as sloppy and unbelievable as the last time I and all four of my siblings _ with accompanying spouses, offspring and significant t’others _ were gathered in the same room.

Instead, I came away marveling at how filmmaker Paul Haggis and his gang managed to pack so much in less than two hours and stitch it all together so seamlessly into one of the best 36-hour slices of life I’ve ever seen on screen.

That’s the lesson you have to hope some people who matter in Hollywood will take from ``Crash,″ or its equally edgy competitors ``Capote,″ ``Good Night, and Good Luck″ and ``Brokeback Mountain.″

That now and then, it’s worth setting aside the formulaic preconceptions over what movie might turn a buck, and instead, throw money at something strange and different that you feel passionate about.

-- AP Movie Writer David Germain



After 45 nominations, are the Academy Awards as mundane for John Williams as going to the drivethru for a Big Mac and fries?

The film composer who has won five Oscars for his scores to such films as ``Jaws,″ ``Star Wars″ and ``Schindler’s List″ earned his 44th and 45th nominations this time, for ``Memoirs of a Geisha″ and ``Munich.″

That broke the tie he’d been in with Alfred Newman (uncle of Randy, not the figurehead of Mad magazine), who earned 43 nominations for film music in a career that brought him nine Oscars for movie scores that included ``Camelot,″ ``The King and I″ and ``Love Is a Many-Splendored Thing.″ (Newman also won for scoring 1947′s ``Mother Wore Tights″; guess the academy was in a goofy mood that year.)

So now Williams is the record holder for nominations in the music categories. The only individual with more is Walt Disney, whose dominance of the short-subject cartoon category paced him to 59 nominations.

It’s not like Williams needs another Oscar nomination to impress prospective employers. When Steven Spielberg and George Lucas just keep hiring you, who else is there left to impress?

Technically, you could argue Newman and Williams still are tied; back in 1937, Newman scores for ``The Hurricane″ and ``The Prisoner of Zenda″ were nominated, but in those days, the Oscar credit went to the studio music department.

That means Williams still has something to aim for, if he keeps count of these things like the rest of us Oscar bean-counters do. But I suspect the awards rigamarole is just another night out in a monkey suit for Williams at this point.

I can’t think of anything that would still feel fresh and agreeable the 45th time through. OK, maybe one thing. But I won’t win any Oscars for my performance.

-- AP Movie Writer David Germain


TUESDAY, Feb. 21

The good-deed-doers of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences have just announced their annual effort to improve the minds and souls of the youth of America.

Working with the honorably named group Young Minds Inspired, the academy has developed the Hollywood version of a Care package for high schoolers _ a teaching guide to instruct them on the fine art of documentary filmmaking.

The academy’s Web site on the program (http://www.oscars.org/teachersguide/documentaries) lists such noble objectives as ``to engage students in an exploration of film as an art form and a medium of communication″ and ``to help students become more media literate.″

Bull. Like the tobacco industry, the academy’s just looking to perpetuate itself by creating more customers, catching them when they’re young and vulnerable and hooking them for life.

It’s not as insidious as addicting kids to cigarettes (``We need new smokers, gang. The old ones are dying of cancer″). But it’s insidious enough (``We need new viewers for the Oscar telecast. The old ones are dying of boredom from watching our 12-hour snoozefest″).

Among the stuff teachers at 18,000 high schools receive through this program are lesson starters, take-home activities and an 85-minute DVD, the whole thing narrated by Morgan Spurlock, director of the Oscar-nominated anti-McDonald’s fast-food bash ``Super Size Me.″

Sounds altruistic enough. But teachers also get an ``Academy Awards commemorative poster,″ and I’m betting most of the other materials have been prominently branded with the academy name and logo.

Wanting more background on this YMI outfit, I went to http://youngmindsinspired.com. Interestingly, you also can get to their site by typing http://youthmarketingint.com.

Youth marketing? As in replacing chalkboards with billboards?

The YMI site has testimonials from such clients as Hasbro Toys, Disney and the Cartoon Network. An NFL Players Association exec says YMI helped his team promote ``trading cards to the youth marketplace″; an Xbox boss notes YMI does good school work ``while subtly presenting my brands in a completely professional way.″

You can’t blame the academy for doing what everybody else does, trying to maintain its future by going right to the source, the young eyeballs that may be glued to the Oscar ceremony for the next six or seven decades on TV or iPod or eventually direct-feed-to-the-brain.

Brand loyalty is crucial in business, and let’s not forget, the Oscars are a centerpiece of show BUSINESS.

As a side note, among the many corporate logos plastered on the YMI Web site are the golden arches of McDonald’s, apparently a satisfied customer for which the group has created educational-marketing programs.

That has no relevance to the Oscars. It’s just a circuitous way for me to end with the phrase I want to end with: Morgan Spurlock and McDonald’s, together again.

-- AP Movie Writer David Germain


FRIDAY, Feb. 17

It’s time for the junior-varsity Oscars, the Scientific and Technical Awards, honoring the geek squads that came up with ``devices, methods, formulas, discoveries or inventions of special and outstanding value to the arts and sciences of motion pictures.″

If the Oscars are the equivalent of prom night for the popular clique, tomorrow’s Sci-Tech Awards are like end-of-the-school-year pizza and Fresca for the audio-visual club at the group adviser’s house.

Honorees, who are cordially asked to leave their pocket protectors at home and wear big-boy pants that do not reveal two-inch swaths of socks, receive plaques or certificates instead of an actual Oscar action figure.

With dozens of people being honored for all kinds of gadgets and contraptions, the Sci-Tech Awards would be too long and boring to fold into the big ceremony, which is long and boring enough as it is.

But I think the real reason the sci-tech gold stars are handed out separately is that winners’ names and achievements would be too hard for celebrity presenters to get their mouths around on Oscar night.

Imagine Jessica Alba presenting a prize to Demetri Terzopoulos, co-author of the paper ``Elastically Deformable Models,″ a ``milestone in computer graphics, introducing the concept of physically based techniques to simulate moving, deforming objects.″

Or Keanu Reeves announcing honors for Udo Schauss and Hildegard Ebbesmeier for the optical design of the Cinelux Premiere Cinema Projection Lenses, which ``incorporate an iris and aspheric elements which provide a more uniform modulation-transfer function.″

Or Owen Wilson introducing Anatoliy Kokush, Yuriy Popovsky and Oleksiy Zolotarov for the Russian Arm gyro-stabilized camera crane and the Flight Head, a remote crane and camera head that can move 360 degrees around a car driven at high speeds, ``creating heretofore impossible perspectives.″

I suspect that like the rest of us, Oscar presenters already have enough trouble with names like Charlize and Joaquin.

The consolation prize for the tech wizards: Their kiddie-table celebration always seems to have a babe as host. Last year it was Scarlett Johansson, the year before, Jennifer Garner. Revenge of the nerds is a dish best served hot.

Tomorrow’s eye-catching emcee is Rachel McAdams. Hope she had a good pronunciation coach.

-- AP Movie Writer David Germain



So I keep finding myself backstage at awards shows, ready to type ``Michelle Williams won this, that and-or the other for her role as a doormat of a wifey too spineless to tell her hubby to lay off that other man in `Brokeback Mountain‴ (and I have to wonder, would the wife have had the slightest hesitation to speak her mind had her spouse been cheating with another woman?).

I’ve felt all along that Williams was the best hope among the ``Brokeback Mountain″ cast to win acting prizes.

But every time my fingers are poised over the keyboard to say so, the name of another wifey, Rachel Weisz, keeps getting announced instead. She won out over Williams at the Golden Globes, then at the Screen Actors Guild Awards, and now Weisz has the inside track to do the same for the supporting-actress prize at the Oscars.

Weisz was great in ``The Constant Gardener,″ playing a wily, fearless humanitarian-aid worker who may or may not have been making the world’s biggest cuckold out of her husband (Ralph Fiennes).

But I didn’t come away from ``The Constant Gardener″ with the feeling that here was a slamdunk Oscar winner. I figured Weisz might get a courtesy nomination and be one of the thanks-for-comings on Oscar night.

Whereas I came out of ``Brokeback Mountain″ thinking that as good as Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal were as gay lovers, Williams managed to steal the movie from them. It felt like one of those performances that makes academy acting branch members go, ``Wow, we better give this filly an Oscar now and jinx her career, or she’ll suck up all the good parts and there won’t be any left for the rest of us.″

So now I’ll be backstage March 5, ready to go either way, Weisz or Williams. And to complicate matters, there are three other nominees, Amy Adams as a bonny Southern wife in ``Junebug,″ Frances McDormand as a man-of-the-house wife in ``North Country″ and Catherine Keener as nobody’s wife, ``To Kill a Mockingbird″ author Harper Lee, in ``Capote.″

It sure would make my life easier if the academy would go the totalitarian route and switch to a Soviet-style, one-party system, with a single nominee in each category, Just a thought.

-- AP Movie Writer David Germain



Next to blogging and blowharding about the Oscars, I think the best job in the world has to be music supervisor for movies.

I feel it’s such a noble profession that there should be an Oscar category for best soundtrack assembled for a film.

Consider one of my favorite movies from last year, ``Transamerica.″ Along with its rootsy score by David Mansfield and Dolly Parton’s Oscar-nominated song ``Travelin’ Thru″ written specifically for the film, ``Transamerica″ is stuffed to the barn rafters with old-timey music that fans of ``O Brother, Where Art Thou?″ can’t seem to get enough of.

Writer-director Duncan Tucker and music supervisor Doug Bernheim weave in everything from African motifs with a Miriam Makeba song to a modern fiddle-powered instrumental of Stephen Foster’s ``Beautiful Dreamer″ to a tune by country god Ralph Stanley.

I first saw ``Transamerica″ late last summer, a few days after some vacation time spent sunning myself at the Newport Folk Festival in Rhode Island, where I was introduced to the hip yet folksy band Old Crow Medicine Show.

And wham, there’s a couple of the group’s rollicking songs right up front in the movie, giving a great kickstart to Felicity Huffman’s road trip as the he-about-to-become-a-she-through-sex-change-surgery goes searching for his-her son that he-she never knew.

Then toward the end comes one of the most beautiful, heart-wrenching applications of a pre-existing song I’ve ever seen in a movie, as Felicity’s Bree quietly heads up the hospital hall, bound for a new life as a woman, while Lucinda Williams’ ``Like a Rose″ accompanies her.

The music does just what it should, propel and complement the story and characters the way a well-chosen epigram embodies the spirit of a piece of fiction.

The big-budget mentality of studios is to toss any old sugary pop tune onto a soundtrack hoping the music and movie will cross-pollinate each other to hit status. But it’s a real accomplishment to splice song and cinema as artfully as ``Transamerica″ does.

That’s why I think music supervision should have its own Oscar category, and that’s why I want that job.

It combines three of my favorite ways to while time away: Music, movies and drinking beer. Buy me a pint and maybe I’ll explain that beer part. Bring a couple of bucks for the jukebox, too.

-- AP Movie Writer David Germain


TUESDAY, Feb. 14

It’s Valentine’s Day, an appropriate time to ask some questions that have been nagging at me about this Heath Ledger-Jake Gyllenhaal romance.

I want to know why is Ledger the lead gay cowboy while Gyllenhaal rides side-saddle in ``Brokeback Mountain″? How come Ledger lassoed a best-actor Oscar nomination, and Gyllenhaal’s just his trail buddy, stuck with a nomination as supporting actor (the category that Bill Murray, in his old ``Saturday Night Live″ Oscar bits, dismissed as awards that no one really gives a damn about)?

Sure, Ledger’s got top billing, he’s the bigger heartthrob, and the story eventually places stronger focus on his Ennis Del Mar than Gyllenhaal’s Jack Twist.

But who makes first lip contact? It’s Jack. Who does most of the talking when the boys are stealing kisses between tending sheep on old Mount Brokeback? Jack does. Who utters the line _ ``I wish I knew how to quit you!″ _ that’s become the ``Show me the money!″ overused quote of the year? Jack again.

If this were a love story between a man and a woman, you can bet both actors would be nominated in the lead categories. Imagine Vivien Leigh nominated for best actress in ``Gone With the Wind″ and Clark Gable dumped in the supporting category. Or Humphrey Bogart singled out for best actor in ``Casablanca″ and Ingrid Bergman sloughed off as his supporting actress (OK, so Bergman was nominated that year for best actress in ``For Whom the Bell Tolls″ instead of ``Casablanca″; you still get my point, right?).

Great love stories need equal partners, and Ennis and Jack certainly were. But while members of the academy acting branch are free to vote for performers in whatever category they want, they get suckered into the positioning the studios undertake.

When you have a film with co-leads, it’s generally considered wiser to push one in the top category, the other as a supporting player, to maximize chances that both will get nominated. That’s the approach the backers of ``Brokeback″ took in Hollywood trade ads and other awards pitches.

And so, Heath flies first-class, Jake goes coach. Heath rides a sturdy stallion, Jake gets a circus pony.

Ennis and Jack. Butch and Sundance. Felix and Oscar. Thelma and Louise. Ratso Rizzo and Joe Buck. Mozart and Salieri. Equal pardners, all. Characterize one as supporting to the other and the movie just isn’t the same.

The latter three pairs earned dual lead-acting nominations for the stars, Geena Davis and Susan Sarandon for ``Thelma & Louise,″ Dustin Hoffman and Jon Voight for ``Midnight Cowboy,″ F. Murray Abraham and Tom Hulce for ``Amadeus.″

So who says some actors are created more equal than others come Oscar time? Granted, Salieri did prove more equal than Mozart, since Abraham won.

-- AP Movie Writer David Germain


MONDAY, Feb. 13

William Hurt has got to be the only person ever to score an Oscar nomination for fumbling for his keys.

I recall seeing ``A History of Violence″ at the Cannes Film Festival last spring and just rolling along with the wicked humor underlying the performances, particularly Ed Harris’ as a one-eyed mad dog of a gangster.

Harris stole the show early on, and I was figuring Harris had a shot at a supporting-actor nomination. But then Hurt finally shows up at the end of the film, popping in for just a few minutes of screen time as Viggo Mortensen’s brother, a grandiose mob boss with a seriously inflated perception of his own worth.

Hurt was so good in his opening confrontation with Mortensen that my Oscar allegiance starting swinging toward him and away from Harris.

Then came the moment that sealed the deal for Hurt. Safe in his big old mansion, surrounded by his posse of bodyguards and very capable killers, Hurt’s character gets a reminder of what it’s like to be on the shallow end of his family gene pool.

Unarmed and in enemy territory, Mortensen goes berserk and has brother Hurt’s household quickly in shambles. In a flurry of misdirection, Hurt ends up standing on his own doorstep, locked out of the house and listening to the ruckus inside as his sibling permanently downsizes the domestic staff.

And with an expression of sublime befuddlement, Hurt reaches into his pocket to dig out his house keys. The laugh that scene elicited has stayed with me viscerally. It’s sick and twisted and sad, and the look of defeat on the face of Hurt’s blustery character perfectly summed up the utter collapse of a blowhard deflated by a better man.

-- AP Movie Writer David Germain


FRIDAY, Feb. 10

I wish I could track down the woman I was talking with last year as we both came out of an early screening of the pimp-turned-rapper flick ``Hustle & Flow″ at the Sundance Film Festival. Then I could practice my ``Nyuk, nyuk, told you so″ routine on her.

We both had high praise for the film, but when I told her I thought Terrence Howard could get an Oscar nomination for it, she looked at me like I was a pathetic little boy trying to sell Thin Mints to buy uniforms for my Little League team the day after a troop of cookie-peddling Girl Scouts had goose-stepped through the neighborhood (this actually happened to me once, so I know how it feels).

``That’ll never happen,″ the woman said of Howard’s Oscar prospects.

In fairness, I understood what she meant. Edgy little films that play well at Sundance are not supposed to have the Oscar mojo to compete against flicks with people in them that have names like Gwyneth or Denzel.

The lack of sleep and thin mountain air at Sundance makes everybody loopy, causing distributors to pull out their checkbooks and start scribbling zeroes to buy some pretty crappy movies that’ll never survive in the real world.

So of course, a pronouncement that Terrence Howard is an Oscar contender _ coming in the Sundance vacuum a year before the nominations, before anyone knows who’ll be releasing the film, when it will come out or whether it’ll do any business _ just sounds like a case of the stupids.

But there Howard will be on Oscar night, among the best-actor contenders. Also emerging from the main dramatic competition at Sundance last year was the comic drama ``Junebug,″ which earned Amy Adams a supporting-actress nomination.

Sundance has turned into a solid farm system for the Oscars in recent years, identifying talent that gets called up to the show on nominations morning.

Among the acting nominees for films that premiered at Sundance: Sissy Spacek, Marisa Tomei and Tom Wilkinson for ``In the Bedroom″; Laura Linney for ``You Can Count on Me″; Patricia Clarkson for ``Pieces of April″; Holly Hunter for ``thirteen″; and Alec Baldwin for ``The Cooler.″

(And let’s not forget two of my coulda-been, shoulda-been nominated actors from Sundance movies, Paul Giamatti for ``American Splendor″ and Peter Dinklage for ``The Station Agent″)

And now, a year before the 2006 Oscar nominations, I make this pronouncement: No actors in films that premiered in last month’s Sundance dramatic competition will be nominated. It was the weakest crop I’ve seen at Sundance, and while there were decent performances, none of them were Oscar bait.

Of course, I only saw 15 of the 16 dramatic entries, and the one I missed, ``A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints,″ won a prize for best ensemble performance. So nyuk, nyuk on me if Robert Downey Jr., Dianne Wiest, Rosario Dawson or somebody else in that film gets nominated next year.

If that happens, I have my excuse ready: I had to skip that movie because that was the two hours I set aside for sleep during the 10 days of Sundance.

-- AP Movie Writer David Germain



Hoffman? Huffman? Phil, Felicity, one of you has to change your last name before Oscar night, or it’s going to get confusing if you both win.

As best-actor front-runner, we have Philip Seymour HOFFMAN, who won a Golden Globe and the Screen Actors Guild blue-ribbon as best actor for playing that weird little literary genius Truman Capote in ``Capote.″

Move one vowel over, and we come to Felicity HUFFMAN, who looks as though she’s in a two-woman race for best actress for playing a man about to stir-fry the old genitalia through sex-change surgery in ``Transamerica.″ Both HUFFMAN and Reese Witherspoon of ``Walk the Line″ won Golden Globes, while Witherspoon beat HUFFMAN for the Screen Actors Guild trinket.

Amazing coincidence or Hollywood conspiracy to create name uniformity for contractual purposes that two top prospects for the lead-acting prizes should have similar nomenclature?

Who knows? Who cares? I just find it amusing. And it made me curious to see what namesakes HUFFMAN and HOFFMAN might have in the Oscar archives.

Copious research amounting to nearly a minute tooling around in the academy’s database (http://www.oscars.org/awardsdatabase) turned up the curious fact that no one else named HUFFMAN ever did anything worthy of Oscar notice.

As for HOFFMAN, you’re all surely familiar with the Oscar biggie, Al HOFFMAN, nominated for the 1950 best-song honor for co-writing ``Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo″ from ``Cinderella.″

There also were a number of references to someone named Dustin HOFFMAN, who was listed as having seven acting nominations, mainly for obscure arthouse movies. There were indications he even won twice, but I didn’t stay on the academy Web site long enough to confirm that; I had to go to Ameritrade to see if my shares in Diageo, brewers of Guinness, had gone up enough to justify investing in an extra 12-pack this weekend.

Maybe now you understand why a little thing like the HUFFMAN-HOFFMAN debate has me confused.

-- AP Movie Writer David Germain



To paraphrase one of the grand Gershwin tunes he used in ``Manhattan,″ it’s very clear, Woody Allen is here to stay.

Allen already was the record-holder in the writing categories when he snagged his 14th nomination, this time for ``Match Point.″

And this after we’d counted Woody among the should-have-retired-at-65-and-gone-off-to-toot-his-clarinet-full-time crowd. The string of lackluster comedies that preceded ``Match Point,″ among them ``Hollywood Ending,″ ``Anything Else″ and ``The Curse of the Jade Scorpion,″ had Allen looking has-been-ish.

But he’s back on his game with ``Match Point.″ Not that I’m a huge fan of the film; it felt too much like a retread of the justice-is-blind themes of Allen’s ``Crimes and Misdemeanors,″ albeit retooled for a young, pretty cast whose appeal has given the filmmaker his biggest mini-hit in many years.

Yet the dialogue in ``Match Point″ was buzz-saw sharp, a portent of more good things to come from Allen, who turned 70 last fall. It raises the question _ like Clint Eastwood reclaiming the Oscar crown last year at age 74 _ how long can Allen keep it up?

Genetically, a good long while. His dad lived to be 100, his mom made it to her mid-90s, and Allen’s famous quip about longevity is that he hopes to achieve immortality by not dying.

So we could be seeing Allen at the Oscars (or more precisely, not at the Oscars, since he doesn’t like coming) until well after global warming has forced him either to move out of watery Manhattan or buy a rowboat.

Allen’s got writing and directing Oscars for ``Annie Hall″ and another screenplay trophy for ``Hannah and Her Sisters.″ I doubt he’ll win this time against an original-screenplay lineup that includes ``Crash,″ ``Good Night, and Good Luck″ and ``Syriana.″

But the guy remains a little Tasmanian devil of verbiage. Good words just keep pouring out.

In time, the Spielbergs may crumble, the Clooneys may tumble, but our Woody is here to stay.

-- AP Movie Writer David Germain



The latest from the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences: You are cordially invited to a meet and greet with the Oscars. The actual, gold-plated, inanimate Oscars.

In its perpetual solicitations for any publicity imaginable that might help the show’s TV ratings, the academy yesterday announced the safe arrival of this year’s batch of awards in Hollywood, where they now will be made a public spectacle of at an exhibit called ``Meet the Oscars: The 50 Golden Statuettes.″

This essentially is the same thing as coming out to stare at a bunch of bowling trophies.

They don’t sing and dance. They don’t tell bad jokes. They don’t thank their agents or toss the losing nominees a bone by claiming what an honor it was just to be in their company. And thank whatever smithy forged them, they don’t squeal, a la Sally Field, ``You like me! You really like me!″

They just stand there, mute and anatomically incorrect.

Visitors will be allowed to hold one of the 8 1/2-pound statuettes made by R.S. Owens and Co. of Chicago out of something called britannium (no wonder Brits win so many acting Oscars).

And there will be photos of past Oscar winners on display. Those with heart conditions be warned; this sounds like exciting stuff.

Then two days before the ceremony, according to an academy press release, ``the Oscars, under heavy security, will march down the red carpet on Hollywood Boulevard to the Kodak Theatre, where they will be handed out during the awards presentation.″

The pageantry of it all gives me goosebumps _ especially the part about these little metal men marching along the carpet. It sounds like the lost dance sequence to ``The Nutcracker.″

In keeping with the bowling reference above, I think the academy could get real publicity mileage by closing off Hollywood Boulevard for celebrity bowling matchups, using Oscar statuettes as pins, the makers of the stop-motion animated nominees as pin-setters, and maybe the heads of last year’s losers as balls.

Wouldn’t you love to see Judi Dench, wearing a lavender bowling blouse with ``Dame Judi″ stitched over the breast, in a three-frame, sudden-death showdown against Ang Lee, decked out in a pastel-green polyester shirt whose back is emblazoned with the ``Brokeback Mountain″ team sponsor’s name _ the Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation?

Now that’s publicity, and that’s entertainment.

-- AP Movie Writer David Germain

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