Skip to main content

Jennifer Lawrence's "admirable" deference

Daniel D'Addario wrote this: 

Jennifer Lawrence, at this year’s Golden Globes, seemed stunned to have won her second prize there in two years. “HFPA, you really are, just, too kind!” she said to the Hollywood Foreign Press Association, thanking her “American Hustle” director and fellow nominees before saying, “I’m sorry I’m shaking so much — don’t ever do this again! It’s so scary!”

She seems to have meant it. The 2013 Golden Globe and Oscar champion, Lawrence has put absolutely no effort into campaigning for a second Oscar — one that would make her only the sixth person in history, and the first since Tom Hanks, to win in consecutive years. 

[…]

The official reason, here, is not solely pique (as it is in the case of Lawrence’s “Hustle” costar Christian Bale) but the contingencies of Lawrence’s filming schedule, one that “Hustle” director David O. Russell called “12 years of slavery.” Hooked into the “X-Men” and “Hunger Games” franchises, Lawrence’s life is largely composed of long, action-packed shooting days; that she was able to get away to shoot “American Hustle” is a function of the fact that the role is a long cameo.
It’s a short, funny role — and Lawrence’s main competition in the best supporting actress race is Lupita Nyong’o — the likable new star whose performance in “12 Years a Slave” is riveting and heartbreaking. For all Lawrence’s accolades, Nyong’o, who won the Screen Actors Guild Award and seems to be the critical favorite, has gathered as many.
They’re a picture in contrasts: Lawrence, at 23, has already scooped up three Oscar nominations and the big prize. Nyong’o, at 30, waited for “Slave” to make her film debut (she’d previously been getting a drama degree at Yale). If Lawrence wins, it won’t necessarily be undeserved — she’s quite amusing in “Hustle” — but will document just how much easier it is for an actress who looks like Lawrence to triumph generally. There simply aren’t nonwhite actresses who have won multiple Oscars, ever, let alone before their 25th birthday.
And, to her credit, Lawrence, who asked the Hollywood Foreign Press to never honor her again, seems to know that. ("Jennifer Lawrence doesn't want a second Oscar now," Salon.com)
-----

Two recent heroes of yours are Bob Costas, for disregard of his health, and Jennifer Lawrence, for still being abashed at her success, just wanting to be an ordinary person. The individual who denies -- gets your vote. Sounds like a traditionally conservative preference, something we'd see at play in a Clint Eastwood movie -- by the "hero" -- with the "villains" unwilling to deny their health, nor absent themselves tributes, just so they seem malleable for others' fantasy requirements of them. 
Costas and Lawrence can be moved about. Costas by patriotism, and Lawrence in order to show she's not full of herself, spoiled. I'll applaud them when they grow out of it, 'cause it's just awful to see people who can be owned. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Old Youth

You write about how poverty breeds creativity. You think about how scavenging for wild food gives you the perfect opportunity to slow down, to really appreciate your surroundings. You talk about how frugality is more environmentally sustainable. You pontificate on why creating meals from scratch is cheaper, healthier and deeply satisfying. Then you run out of cooking oil.You love fat. As a child you ate margarine by the spoonful. You didn't know any better. Now you've moved on to more delicious pastures. As a cook you can never resist sneaking in that extra bit of butter, that tablespoonful of olive oil, that dab of bacon grease. You believe that cake is a vessel for frosting, that salad dressing should be two parts oil to one part vinegar, and that packaged low-fat foods are a symptom of the decline of Western civilization. Fat makes food taste good.Under the best of circumstances, you have eight or nine varieties of fat on hand. In ascending order of importance: chicken drip…

Superimposing another "fourth-wall" Deadpool

I'd like to superimpose the fourth-wall breaking Deadpool that I'd like to have seen in the movie. In my version, he'd break out of the action at some point to discuss with us the following:
1) He'd point out that all the trouble the movie goes to to ensure that the lead actress is never seen completely naked—no nipples shown—in this R-rated movie was done so that later when we suddenly see enough strippers' completely bared breasts that we feel that someone was making up for lost time, we feel that a special, strenuous effort has been made to keep her from a certain fate—one the R-rating would even seemed to have called for, necessitated, even, to properly feed the audience expecting something extra for the movie being more dependent on their ticket purchases. That is, protecting the lead actress was done to legitimize thinking of those left casually unprotected as different kinds of women—not as worthy, not as human.   


2) When Wade/Deadpool and Vanessa are excha…

True Detective cont'd

Recently, Rachel Syme wrote this
As the dust settles on the “True Detective” finale, and the adventures of Rust Cohle and Marty Hart fade into the television firmament like the distant stars they found so meaningful, at least one thing is clear: it didn’t quite end the way we wanted it to. There is no doubt that the writer, Nic Pizzolatto, and director, Cary Fukunaga, pulled off a midseason coup, giving us a show in the January doldrums that caused temporary mass insanity. Like one of Rust’s intoxicating philosophical koans about sentient meat, “True Detective” cast a kind of spell over its viewers, convincing them that no matter what it was they were watching it was at the very least something worth the hours of debating, clicking, parsing, and comment-section feuding. Moreover, the gorgeous cinematography depicting Louisiana in the gloaming, the delectable short-anthology format, and the movie-star bona fides made us believe that we were watching something novelistic, even approachi…