The Oscars, damning the trap, decided to ignore the best movie of the year. All because Babylon wanted to tell the filth of Hollywood
A party on the high seas held in the cabin of the almighty William Randolph Hearst, owner of the largest newspapers in the United States of America, in the first two decades of the 20th century, turned into a tragedy. Charles Chaplin saw his young bride, Lita Gray, thirty years older, tossing and turning in an imperial bed with Thomas H. Ince, one of the leading directors of the western. The wounded male did not hesitate to respond, taking a revolver and killing him. On board, among the many celebrities, was Louella Parsons, famous in the entertainment industry. Hearst – the man who later became immortal because of Orson Welles and his citizen Kane – put a sweaty ticket in her hand and hired her for life with a cash salary that will be critical of her journalistic life. No one spoke of the accident and Ince’s death was covered up in the newspapers, saying that an aneurysm blinded him during his life in the deep sea.
If this happened with an excellent film director who gave millions of fans, what could happen to those who were sent to the death of reapers in the struggle by real dictators like Von Stroheim? Or what about the early sound technicians who mixed sound in submerged rooms? Or the aspiring stars who agree to spend the night with comedians like Fat Arbuckle, who, while blinded by a cook, killed a girl by pushing her bottle sheath into a fatal peritonitis? All those crimes went unpunished, they were buried, because Hollywood was Olympus and its producers were gods.
A brave few decided to tell this story. The first of them was Kenneth Ira, an experimental satanic filmmaker who spent an entire decade in Hollywood Babylon. Of course, his anger was lost in his career. Other rebels such as Hal Hashby, Warren Beatty, Robert Altman and Orson Welles himself were bought for daring with blood. Now it is Damien Chazele who has decided to produce Babylon, a hundred thousand dollar production, which has stars like Brad Pitt, Margot Robbie or Tobey Maguire and raised barely fifteen million. Yes, a lot of film for the audience lobotomized by Miro, a three-hour drama in which no Manhattan monster appears to be destroyed, may sound excessive, but it should also be said that Hollywood closed the show channels and went into hiding. theaters around the world. The consolation that remains is now, in May, before Paramount in digital format, the losses will be obscured.
The most unfortunate thing is that the elders from the Academy, with double standards as usual, decided to ignore her in the most idle awards in the world. Of course, since the story isn’t about someone deaf or one-armed, we don’t want too much in the movie. It is less well known that the great producers are pigs. Margot Robbie’s character wearing the dress of the Persian Hierarch is a declaration of principles, a declaration of war by Chazelle against Hollywood.
And they will repay you dearest. It is difficult for Chazelle to recover even though he is 37 years old and has a unique creative energy. But we have seen how this oppressor of dreams can kill people as talented as Peter Bogdanovich, Nicholas Ray, William Friedkin or Francis Coppola because they did not smile at the time, because they did not feel like pleasing.
If you want to celebrate cinema and vomit energy, don’t be surprised by this miracle that still survives in some cinema in the city.
To add: I would like the Fabelmans to win tonight but at least give it all at the same time, because some Asians would consider it a good decision, Hollywood is crazy to wash away all their race by choosing a film with the greatest diversity. every year ethnic
