I found myself watching the Oscars last night and jotting down movies that I wanted to add to my Netflix queue. I am at a desperation point in my subscription and need new material. I have seen everything in my queue and only have black and white movies as well as obscure documentaries that I crib from The New York Times DVD column every Wednesday. Now I like highbrow movies and enjoy the condesension I shower on someone who defends Paul Blart: Mall Cop but I also feel the need for something more modern, more entertaining, more colorful than A.O. Scott’s The Passion of Joan of Arc DVD pick. Yeah, that one is in my queue. Time for new blood!
- The Duchess: What I gathered from the Oscars is that is is a historical costume piece. In honesty, I have no desire to watch it but I know I’ll get bonus points with my wife when she discovers it in the mailbox.
- In Bruges: I have qualms about adding this to my Netflix queue. I might watch it and love it but will I be able to correctly pronounce Bruges at an elite social gathering. “Oh, I saw a great movie on Netflix. It’s about hitmen in … BRU-JI. Movies and the correct pronunciation of their titles must not reveal the true idiot that you are.
- Man on Wire: This is a documentary about a high wire artist that won best doc feature. The subject of the film, Phillipe Petit, impressed me when he did magic tricks during the acceptance speech and balanced the Oscar on his chin. Now, the activist in me quietly cheered when Sean Penn went out on one of his Leftist rants in his acceptance speech but what I really like to see is someone who appeals to my infantile self and starts busting out Houdini on the Oscar stage.
- Legend of the Lost: I am banning this 1957 John Wayne Western movie along with any other Sophia Loren flick from my queue. Watching this aging movie queen at the Oscars was like looking at a particularly garish drag queen. She and Mickey Rourke could duke it out in the Scary Contest.
- Slumdog Millionaire: I loved this movie and will watch it again. I should have known it was my Oscar favorite when I found myself in Taj Mahal before the show. After wolfing down the Indian buffet, I tried to impress the waiter by saying “Jai Ho” when he handed my the check. My cross-cultural excitement bubble was burst when he gave me a look like he had no idea what I was talking about. I then noticed that he wasn’t even Indian. Oh well, I’ll save this Hindi phrase for victory next time I go to a Japanese Steakhouse. Maybe they’ll understand — Michael Barnes