Friday, 8 February 2008
It's the BAFTAs on Sunday, with the Oscars (supposedly) a fortnight later. And yet it occured to me just the other day that, for once, I don't actually care who wins or not. Usually there's one film, maybe two, that I'm cheering for and desperately want to win. (Last year it was Children Of Men — and boy was I disappointed.) But this time around, I'm feeling a trifle, well, disinterested in it all. Predications are that it's between No Country For Old Men and There Will Be Blood for the Best Picture Oscar. Both are brilliant films. Both would be worthy winners. Do I care which one? Not really. (Atonement, perhaps, has the edge over the pair of them in the BAFTAs but who knows for sure. Certainly not me.) I'm sure my apathy is partly to do with Sweeney's lack of recognition on both sides of the Atlantic, the virtual shutout on Jesse James (come on Casey!) and with Zodiac having being ignored completely. And yet, I'd dearly love to Depp to pick up the Oscar. On the bright side, it probably means that I won't be staying up through the night to watch it.