staircar

My God, this was a dreadful show. For some reason, I watched two of the three episodes that aired and was mortified by each. I was 13 at the time and a fan of ALF, so I looked forward to what looked to be a show with a similar premise. Instead I got a blatant, albeit toothless, rip-off. That damn dragon was the most irksome TV puppet since Elmo, and the writers used the same jokes over and over. I recall an exchange along these lines:

Scorch: "Well, I could stay here with you." Dad: "Stay here with us?" Scorch: "Thanks, that's so kind of you!"

Later that episode they pulled the exact same gag with "Sleep in my bed?" and in the second episode I believe it was "Go to work with me?" Pretty funny stuff, huh? Not to beat a dead dragon, but this was the worst prime time television program I have ever watched.

So what is it with the Academy and truly brave performances by women? For at least three years running, they've callously failed to even nominate the year's most mesmerizing, wrenching and courageous turns by lesser-known actresses in favor of showy swagger from big name bombshells. Julia Roberts was brassy and less grating than usual in Erin Brockovich, but to place her above Bjork's jaw-dropping vulnerability in Dancer in the Dark is inexcusable; likewise Halle Berry's histrionics as compared to Naomi Watts' soul-baring, nuanced anchoring of Mulholland Dr. And now Maggie Gyllenhall's fragile portrait of self-reclamation is overshadowed by forty minutes of Nicole Kidman pouting behind a phony nose? I lost faith in the Academy long ago, but this is inexcusable. Gyllenhall is very near perfect in this part, capturing a character living under a constant threat from herself and her unorthodox journey to, if not happiness, self-acceptance. If we don't really get to know the character beyond her neuroses, it's only because she doesn't seem to know or care much more than that about herself. The film itself has its flaws, but a fantastic effort by Ms. Gyllenhall is more than reason enough to cherish it.