Matt vs. the Academy

As a member of the Screen Actors Guild, I get invitations to all sorts of special screenings during awards season, no doubt intended to influence my vote at the SAG Awards. Idealistic as I am, I remain staunchly subjective, despite being offered free popcorn and soft drinks. I mean, I'll take  the free popcorn and soft drinks - and anything else you're willing to offer me, for that matter - but no amount of bribery will make me write your film's name down on my ballot ... except, perhaps, if you offered me a role in your next film. That might do it. In the last couple of weeks, I've heard fascinating insight into the makings of three films vying for accolades this season. First,  Albert Nobbs , a moving but rather contrived film. Its flaws are forgiven, however, due to impressive performances by Glenn Close and Janet McTeer, both present for the Q & A. Next, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy , a complicated and moody spy thriller, made all the more complicate...

More celebrity shoulder-rubbing stories from this past week at work. I poured some water for Andie MacDowell, was thanked by Jimmy Fallon, and witnessed a live performance by Coldplay. Other attendees that I spotted at these events were Julianna Margulies, Taraji P. Henson, Alec Baldwin, Steve Martin, John McEnroe, Lorne Michaels, Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone. Here endeth the name-dropping. Don't forget to vote for the next year of review for Matt vs. the Academy. The poll is in the right sidebar. Next up in the contenders vying for 1929/30's Best Picture prize is... The Divorcee Director : Robert Z. Leonard Screenplay : Nick Grindé, Zelda Sears and John Meehan (based on the novel "Ex-Wife" by Ursula Parrott) Starring : Norma Shearer, Chester Morris, Conrad Nagel, Robert Montgomery, Florence Eldridge Academy Awards : 4 nominations 1 win, for Best Actress (Shearer) You would be hard pressed to find another film with such a spoiler for a title. Th...

Last Friday, I finally got around to redeeming a gift certificate that my darling wife had given me for my birthday in February. Yes, I am the king of procrastination. The gift certificate entitled me to a full body massage at a local spa, which, through no fault of the massage therapist, turned out to be an entire hour of cringing discomfort. To be fair, that's essentially how I've felt every time I've received a professional massage. It's not that I'm prudish. Oddly, lying almost naked while a stranger rubs his hands all over me doesn't really bother me. It's the pain that bothers me. The digging, the pinching, the grinding - all actions I'd rather not experience. You might ask, "Well, Matt, why don't you just ask the massage therapist to give you a softer massage?" Well, that would involve confrontation, silly. Instead, I just lie there with my face, hidden from my tormentor's view, scrunched in near agony. And when it's not unbe...