Oscars

Winging it, as it turns out, just might suit me. This was the Manifesto’s third year predicting the Oscar nominations in 13 different categories, and after hitting on just 50 of 69 picks each of the past two years (a thoroughly mediocre 72%), this year’s total jumped to 59 of 69 (a far more palatable 86%). I could attribute my success to the Academy’s predictability (though voters did still provide two stunners). Or, I could congratulate myself on my extraordinary intuition, even at the risk of squandering half my readership in the process.

You know what? Screw it:

Sorry, I couldn’t resist. But to be fair, the nominations themselves are just the appetizer. I still need to predict the actual winners prior to the March 2 telecast, and my recent track record in that regard—I correctly pegged just 14 of 21 categories each of the past two years—is hardly worth gloating about. To paraphrase the immortal Cadillac Williams, I may have won the war, but the battle isn’t over. (Or, if you prefer the acerbic poetry of Harvey Keitel in Pulp Fiction, “Let’s not start sucking each other’s dicks quite yet.”)

So, as always, the Manifesto still has work to do. With that in mind, let’s take a look at how things shook out with Thursday morning’s announcement (incorrect picks are in red): Read More

“Winging it” has never been my strength. I believe in data, in probability, in hard science. I believe that decision-making is a process of ruthless optimization, whereby one weighs the relevant costs and benefits before selecting the appropriate option. I believe in regression to the mean, the unimpeachable truth of mathematics, and the Gambler’s Fallacy. And I generally believe that, if you think rationally about a question long enough, you can arrive at the correct answer. It’s why I spend hours crafting email-screeds to my friends railing about atrocious decisions in sports, like Mike McCarthy choosing to kick the extra point in a two-point game with 11 minutes left, or John Farrell bringing Brayan Villarreal into a tie game
with the bases loaded in the ninth inning while Koji Uehara plays Scrabble in the bullpen. It’s also why my friends in Colorado lovingly (loathingly?) refer to me as a robot. Much like the sneering spice merchant in Game of Thrones, I trust in logic, not passion.

Of course, that spice merchant got his fucking throat cut, suggesting that logic can only get you so far. And really, predicting the Oscars has always been more art than science. As tempting as it can be to pore over the list of winners from, say, the St. Louis Gateway Film Critics Association and attempt to form a conclusion about The Great Gatsby‘s odds of landing a Best Production Design nomination, in the end, I’m never going to be able peer into the collective psyche of the 6,000-plus members of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences and learn what the hell they’re thinking. Plus, I just started recapping each of the 92 movies I watched in 2013, so I haven’t been able to delve into the nitty-gritty of the Oscar race with my usual demented zeal. Read More

Writing a post-Oscars recap always feels a bit odd, as the Manifesto’s area of expertise is not the telecast itself. (Of course, given the success rate of my predictions this year, it’s questionable whether the Manifesto has any area of expertise. No matter.) So if you’re looking for analysis on just how adorable Quvenzhané Wallis looked, or whether Kristen Stewart was hammered (nope, she just had a broken foot), or the awesomeness of Anne Hathaway’s nipples, you’ll find plenty of fodder elsewhere on the web.

I do, however, want to comment briefly on Seth MacFarlane’s turn as host. From the beginning, MacFarlane made it clear that he knew he was an outsider (“It’s an honor that everyone else said no”), and a prolonged skit with William Shatner – partly painful, partly very funny, particularly the “Flight in sock puppets” bit – instantly established his sheepish, near-apologetic demeanor. In the era of instant micro-analysis and trends on Twitter, where a rabid online audience will ravenously seize on the latest mishap or malfunction, the hosting gig at the Oscars is virtually predetermined for failure. MacFarlane seemed amusingly resigned to that fate from the get-go, with Shatner displaying fake screenshots from the future that read, “MacFarlane worst Oscar host ever”. It’s the sort of self-insulating shtick that can come off as preemptively defensive, but it showcased a cute self-awareness in which MacFarlane acknowledged that he was swimming over his head. Read More

For your annotated pleasure, below are the Manifesto’s official predictions for the 85th Academy Awards. I strongly recommend printing the list out and following it while watching tonight’s telecast – it will allow you to make fun of me that much more quickly when these predictions turn to dust.

One note: I’m changing my prediction for Best Adapted Screenplay from Lincoln to Argo. I made my initial pick way back on January 27, just after Argo had won at the Producers’ Guild and before its momentum really got rolling. Since then, the movie has cleaned up everything in sight, including a critical win with the Writers’ Guild, which has correctly forecast seven of the past eight Oscar winners for Best Adapted Screenplay. I still think Tony Kushner’s more visible screenwriting has a chance to take home the gold, but I’d be foolish not to back Argo at this point.

On to the picks, organized by level of confidence. Remember, I’m omitting the three short categories because I’m as knowledgeable about them as I am about cooking. Read More

And here we are. With such a suspenseful and unpredictable Oscar telecast looming, it’s perhaps disappointing that the big prize is already predetermined. But such is life.

NOMINEES
Amour
Argo
Beasts of the Southern Wild
Django Unchained
Life of Pi
Lincoln
Les Misérables
Silver Linings Playbook
Zero Dark Thirty Read More