I'm so grateful to the gents at Vampire Videos for inviting me to take part in their new Tales from the Crypt podcast Recrypted!
You can hear me talk about two Tales from the Crypt Season 1 episodes or listen to my previous Vampire Videos appearances chatting The Kiss of the Vampire and Buffy.
Chat with me at ThereforeReview on Blue Sky or peruse the Podcast tag for more audio appearances including:
The Searchers - Greatest Movies of All Time
The Neighbours Watch: 1985–1989
by Kristin Battestella
When Amazon revived the then-canceled Australian soap opera Neighbours in 2022, they also offered on demand episode batches from the show's thirty year history. However, these "iconic episodes" were abrupt highlights leaving frustrating story gaps and cliffhangers. Thankfully, the new Official Neighbours Classics YouTube Channel provides viewers like me who didn't see the eighties heights on Ramsay Street a chance to witness the entire saga in order. While bemusingly pleasant and perfect for background viewing, the 1985-89 seasons of Neighbours offer a lot of good, plenty of bad, and even some ugly pastiche. And I don't mean the mullets. I hate mullets!
Finding its Legs
Honestly, I'm not surprised Neighbours was initially canceled after its dull 1985 debut season before being rescued on a new network with the 1986 arrival of Anne Charleston as Madge Mitchell, nee Ramsay. I dislike her brother Max's gruff, Tom Ramsay's copycat replacement, and was also totally annoyed by the original Lucy Robinson and all the bad things that happen to her. To keep the cul de sac wholesome, Neighbours offers villainous meaty to contract guests like Andrea with the paternity lies or recurring high school pests like Sue Parker – giving them more attention than a main cast that isn't fully developed. The Classic YouTube channel options to watch single episodes or weekly blocks highlights this uneven story balance that permeates throughout Neighbours. Heavy plots and humorous to-dos are given equal weight with major crises resolved in a word. Contests and schemes can be so simple but serious kidnappings and thefts or medical emergencies are minor compared to the scandals of American soaps in the eighties. The starving old lady neighbour they don't really know and her sad dog are one of several compelling, unexpected storylines superior to the increasing teen drama, but on and off again relationships or pranks between characters are often forgotten the following week. The nature of any soap opera is to rinse and repeat, and marathoning now reveals just how much Neighbours continually recycles. This quickly becomes a disservice to Geoff Paine as Clive Gibbons, who is the hero doctor, class clown, or poetic sage of Ramsay Street as needed. His romantic plots are perpetually short term D.O.A.s contributing to the revolving guest door. Fortunately, Elaine Smith's former stripper Daphne Lawrence is our mature anchor; a strong independent character providing support to the youths while running her own coffee shop and doing right for herself. Her back and forth romance with Shane goes on too long amid several false starts with Daphne and Paul Keane as Des Clarke but their marital stories are superb. Anne Haddy's grandmother Helen Daniels is excellent in tackling all the ups and downs of raising a family, business dilemmas, and mid-life romance. She even gets a few unfortunately short-lived scandals! As a new viewer who had only see Amazon's piecemeal, it's great to see the entire rekindling between migraine inducing Madge and Ian Smith as lovable fuddy-duddy Harold Bishop. Basil begats Bouncer for a host of canine themed plots, and the Ramsay Street Olympics sets off what Neighbours does best – slice of life stories involving the entire ensemble. Cross country excursions gone wrong and lost in the bush stories here are better than the Revival's more recent Outback escapades because rather than focusing on guest villains, the suspense remains Ramsay and Robinson immediate.
Middle-aged housewives and grandmothers were the soap opera watchers of the day, but here those ladies are the ones who get things done. Neighbours is very good when the funny plots and serious stories are well interwoven. Madge learns to drive and Bouncer solves Helen's haunted apartment. Choir gossip has everyone believing Harold is an animal in the sack, and his car accident has not one but three ladies point fingers and taking him into their care. An entire episode is dedicated to poker playing men in one house and women playing scrabble in another, and it's high drama arguing about the funny money and dictionaries. Harold's bucks party also offers orange juice, Mozart, and his tie salesman mini me son David, and when The Ramsays and The Robinsons are forced to live together, the petty little tensions are delicious. Alan Fletcher – later to become Neighbours' Doctor Karl Kennedy – is here as a fill-in mechanic of the week, and the infectious introduction of Lucinda Cowden as Melanie Pearson is great fun. Annie Jones as Jane Harris is also a consistent delight. “Plain Jane Super Brain” goes through many important storylines with arcs and growth allowing the character to mature rather than stagnate. Postpartum depression was not often addressed in 1987, and initially this is a powerful plot for Daphne before the story devolves into the jealous husband feeling left out so the wife has to favor both man and baby. Amazon really dropped the ball in not providing all the classic episodes, as being able to see Daphne's exit in full is some of Neighbours' best. Myra de Groot as mother-in-law Eileen Clarke is likewise brilliant in everything from bad salmon mousse to remarrying Des' father Malcolm. Secret adoptions, pill abuse with a baby in jeopardy, depression, and starvation are excellent, emotional stories. The wedding cake is destroyed, love triangles commence, and the adult drama on Neighbours is leaps and bounds above the repetitive youth plots thanks to the spiteful crone that is Vivean Gray as Nell Mangel. Her hideous portrait is charming as is her Dear Georgette advice column. Mrs. Mangel and Eileen Clarke read tea leaves and misinterpreted psychic predictions ensue. We love to hate her even when Mrs. Mangel loses her memory and has a heart attack – using her health to earn just a bit of sympathy when she only has herself to blame if no one on Ramsay Street actually likes her except Bouncer. I'm glad Nell Mangel, Wedding Coordinator from Hell gets threatened for her meddling but also receives her own marital send off, for her departing flashbacks don't shy away from all the wonderful trouble she wrought.
Unfortunately by the late eighties, Neighbours skews younger and younger with the recast Lucy coming and going on school holidays for childlike stupids or attempted teen sophistication as needed. New kids crowd the Robinson house, and Alan Dale as Jim Robinson deals with lookalike women Ruth and Beverly when Zoe was better. Critical business ventures and financial Robinson ruin take a backseat while lawn mowing schemes repeat the departed Shane and Clive. Teens fail at frozen pizza experiments and problematic children become contrived tangents. Henry Ramsay gets on my nerves immediately, and it's tough to tell who is going to be permanent and who's just a guest with everyone after Russell Crowe's brief stint detracting from the core cul de sac. Why are the Italian guests stereotypical Lotharios? Neighbours finally has an Aboriginal but unfortunately negative story with a burial ground interfering in the Lassiter's hotel development. Stefan Dennis' manager Paul Robinson claims he respects their beliefs but presents the building plans as if what's best for The Daniel's Corporation is paramount for everyone. Losing the strong women who would object hurts Neighbours, and the unhealthy looking, thin, glassy eyed cast seems like the soap stardom is getting to them. Oft the bread and butter of stateside soaps, courtroom drama largely happens off screen, recounted after the fact while going house to house with food. So much food! Neighbours jumps the shark with a ridiculous, garish church sock hop, and a Yankee modeling executive suddenly dropping engagement diamonds on Jane is just a preposterous nothing burger. It gets old fast when Henry and Bronwyn bounce from house to house and ruin something every week. Helen has a stroke but it's more important that Henry blame Bronwyn for going back to school and not paying enough attention to him. His voice impersonations and murder mystery dress up are asinine not funny – coming off as dumb and desperate attempts to keep luring in young viewers. Weeks are spent on Nick and Sharon running away, on the road with a dollar to their name and shoveling chicken shit before rushing back to Ramsay Street at the first emergency. Instead of slice of life ensemble storytelling, Neighbours leans on youthful minutia that's really a disservice to the cast and the audience. By 1989, new characters are already borrowing from earlier stories and repeating the teen angst.
The Scott and Charlene Conundrum
Marathoning these weekly blocks, teen power couple Jason Donovan as Scott Robinson and Kylie Minogue as Charlene Mitchell are immediately insufferable with back and forth professions of love and fighting over the dumbest things flip flopping from episode to episode – sometimes in scene as needed. Repeated music montage flashbacks at the playground and rescues from blown up trailers can't disguise how their grating gets old fast. Even other characters question if they had a dime every time Scott and Charlene broke up over annoying money making schemes, idiotic scams, and their own stupidity. I get that they're teens with all over the place emotions. However their contrivances are one of the weakest stories on Neighbours, and I can't fathom how this was the most popular moment of the entire series. Today high schoolers marrying at seventeen just to move in with parents next door and have sex feels more backwoods than progressive. The measles scare the night before the wedding was their best moment, and I wish the nuptials had been Scott and Charlene's show exit. Scott fails his exams and goes job hunting on a skateboard; they literally lose cash constantly but people continually loan the couple money. Interesting dilemmas are shoved aside for more and more Scott and Charlene because no one knows how to live on love but them! Each teen becomes so distraught and delusional that their families apologize for wanting rent. Between arguing about his homework and her apprenticeship, each also gets the wandering eye in totally pure flirtations cum excuses for misunderstandings and repeated wedding flashbacks. They scream that if one walks out the door, the marriage is over but it's children playing Dynasty. That extramarital canoodling leads to Scott wanting to have a band aid baby, which is a terrible idea and everyone tells them so. Such a plot should have never been suggested, and Neighbours would have my utmost recommendation if I could skip over the Scott and Charlene melodrama. Our intrepid couple become the heroes of every story – uncovering corrupt business partners, nabbing incriminating photos of bad guys, offering wisdom to struggling couples, and resolving almost every plot with their innocent can do. Charlene's lucky coin goes missing and she cries to Scott's boss that he's working three jobs and can't spend time with her. So instead Charlene's departs and an obnoxious model tries to seduce poor, lonely Scott. Maybe Scott and Charlene marrying so frigging soon was actually a damn storytelling mistake? A scandalous book and murder plots on par with American soap malicious are dropped for yet another chaste kissing dilemma. Are we supposed to feel sorry for Scott because so many babes tempt him? Every frustrating non-dalliance drags on with Scott insisting he is right no matter how many others point out he is flat wrong. In the end he even blames the “backward” stereotypical Greeks for their restrictive values, and I cannot tell you how glad I was when Scott unceremoniously disappears.
Now then as to Guy Pearce as Mike Young – the impetus for this Neighbours excursion. I've been doing a Career Re-Watch of his oeuvre, but you would never know Pearce was going to become one of our best contemporary actors by seeing his mullet, baby face, and amateur delivery here. Despite appearing in more than 900 episodes, there isn't a whole lot for Mike to do except make the smoothies and eat the food in the background at the coffee shop. Of Neighbours' oft misguided musical attempts, Pearce's actually playing the saxophone is the most fun but it's used the least. After his earnest abusive introduction, most of Mike's storylines are the same girl troubles – first on and off with Nikki then off and on with Jane. There are random Canberra chicks, swimming babes, and more meaningless flings, and Jane shoves a cake in his face over it. She worries that every time he takes a trip, he falls for another girl, and I'll be damn Neighbours has been giving Mike the same stories for forty years! Even Bouncer gets more adventures than Mike. He bullies an Aboriginal ex-schoolmate but it's just a prank, and the show experiments with Mike going bad or doing humorous skits because Neighbours doesn't really know what to do with him despite the well done post-Daphne tears and revenge. Des and Mike as bachelor dads in search of a nanny would have been a great sitcom, but Mike's too often the sidekick with increasingly less appearances. Granted, Pearce asked for filming breaks to pursue less than stellar films but the gaps in his episodes reveal how little he was actually used. The Bronwyn romance just repeats the Jane school drama and love triangle with Henry. When Mike finally becomes a teacher, he's caught in a kissing a student plot before a sabbatical on his motorcycle. Paralyzing Jenny in a motorcycle accident is arguably Mike's biggest story yet it all happens off screen. His leather jacket means Mike has an attitude now, and it's ironic that sullying the character actually gives Pearce more to do. Of course, Henry's comedy undercuts the dark dream sequences and wheelchair-bound guilt, and the disabled obligations are resolved with little fanfare. After repeat teaching strife, Mike is the villain against Des and Jane's engagement, leaning over people's shoulders with passive aggressive petty insults. The whole street tells him to grow up, boo hoo yet feigns smiles for his Ramsay Street birthday party – until Henry runs over his saxophone. Mike admits his duplicity when trying to win back Bronwyn just for spite, and had Mike been a deceptive social climber sooner, it might have been more interesting. Instead these brooding non-stories wasted time with him Neighbours did not have. Happy couples want him to be an enthusiast best man, so his drunken one night stands and pithy bitchings are suddenly dropped. One wonders why Neighbours had him return for a handful of late 1989 episodes when new viewers probably wouldn't know who he is or why he's off to visit his injured mother with no real exit. I can certainly see why Pearce was initially displeased with his original time on Neighbours, for he looks healthier in the end, as if the burden of Neighbours had been lifted from his shoulders. That single dangling crescent moon earring though, would wear!
Messy Declines and Departures
Though once pleasant nostalgic viewing, by the second half of 1989, I am pretty over Neighbours, too. It's frustrating to read that the producers deliberately mirrored Scott and Charlene in other characters, continually referenced them onscreen, and didn't even change the credits because they didn't want viewers to know they were completely gone. The revolving cast door only gets more crowded with obnoxious kid do-overs and even younger tween kisses. Interesting characters like pesky aunt Mrs. Chubb, banker Penelope Porter, tacky stepmother Gloria Lewis, and Jane's selfish mother Amanda Harris are too brief. Overheard secrets on Katie's walkie talkie sow dissent about how everyone really feels in a deliciously simple way to drive several plots at once but the conflicts are resolved too quickly. The grating dialogue for Joe Mangel is also extremely jarring, and it's rich that he becomes the hero over his ex-wife's new abusive husband when he is a cruel, heavy handed father to little Toby. Helen's stroke and her struggle to paint again should have been primary, but another crazy seductress makes moves on Jim, and for all the funny lighthearted things that make Neighbours so cheery, the show seemed to realize the need for darker, if now predictable stories as the eighties sunshine waned. New people are treated as filler when too many regulars have breaks around the same time, and recurring ladies like Anne Scott-Pendlebury as Hilary Robinson should have always been permanent. Hilary and Mrs. Chubb's too brief humorous moments together could have been such gold! A big to-do is made whenever someone comes back from a trip/break/excuse, and then the episode is spent filling in the returning person on what we've been watching – as if Neighbours deliberately kept resetting for viewers each week in lieu of what else to do. Many storylines are isolated rather than true dialogue confidences, and characters who don't usually interact onscreen are presumed to be BFFs in the know as the lazy gardening partnerships repeat and loud, boorish tangents overtake important moments. Hilary feigns injury sympathies just as Mrs. Mangel had and every week a different kid is running away when not having another pet mishap. Neighbours copies itself when provocative drama like Sharon starving herself is better than Bouncer in peril and Toby's weekly sadness. Linda Harley-Clark as Harold's hippie daughter Kerry Bishop is initially an independent activist who nannies in Des' house where she and their kids thrive. Unfortunately, Kerry's then inexplicably paired with Joe and is forced to repent on each of her principles. Kerry frees birds, feeds homeless, and protest kangaroo products yet she is unnecessarily portrayed as the villain who doesn't stop to consider if her actions will make the hotel look bad.
Instead of prioritizing well done extortion plots, terrible dads, and serious family ensembles, characters bend for the dilemma of the week in foreseeable, silly plots or relationship misunderstandings because there are three engaged couples at the same time. Fortunately, Hilary moves to the cul de sac with a mysterious son, and the Sharon/Matthew/Nick triangle would have been far more intriguing had the latent homosexual angle been utilized, but I realize Neighbours in the eighties wouldn't dare. Hilary also has a romance and tries to be hip by going to see Friday the 13th Part 6 with the kids. The show returns to its roots with feuding Ramsays and Robinsons cutting each other's trees and dyeing the pool purple. Everyone has a health emergency at the same time, and it's actually pretty fun, unlike the contrived threats on Todd and Katie coming or going until Katie is actually written out after being unnecessarily prominent. Thanks to her being overused in every major story line, Jane's exit is also abrupt, grinding Neighbours to a halt as elder abuse plots and the briefly returning Clive can't save all the pointless misunderstandings. However I'm so glad to see the back of Henry especially after the radio show obnoxiousness where everyone else did his work for him off the air. Paul's villainy begins by bribing a councilman for a variance, but of course he's screwed over and repeatedly scammed by rookie employees, too. Fiona Corke's Gail Lewis is Paul's perfect match, but her story unfortunately degrades into silly baby brain shoplifting convictions. Most of their marriage fallout strangely happens off screen, yet it also makes the audience realize how impossible triplets would have been on the show. Paul's dramatic race to the airport is quite sad, and Gail's exit is another huge loss for Neighbours – leaving Des filling numerous gaps with phone calls from absent people before recounting everything to Melanie. Paul's on break so Des manages the hotel but then Des takes a break so Jim's running everything while Clive and Melanie now live in Des' house. There's no rhyme or reason to who is where with even a new minister on Ramsay Street as a love interest played for laughs with Melanie – but at least we see the origin of her pig collection! Even the Dear Georgette column returns, as if characters are defined by their jobs but jobs are interchangeable. There's even a clothes swap meet where prominent garments end up on different characters because personal style no longer matters. New people not in the credits, residents referred to no longer on the show, returning people inexplicably picking up where they left off – viewers stopped tuning in to Neighbours because we don't know who's on the dang show.
When updated titles finally happen, the poolside hi-jinks are recreated with new people as if audiences aren't supposed to notice the difference. Neighbours chose to stagnant, repeat, and replace without ever moving forward, and I'm amazed the soap survived this eighties cast exodus. 1989 was really a struggle to finish; I gave 1990 a few months but just didn't care about these strangers on Ramsay Street. Did I like Neighbours? Yes! I'm glad I had the opportunity to watch all the sunshine eighties heights. The Classic YouTube Channel format provides far more entertainment than Amazon's giveth and taketh. There were segments I thoroughly enjoyed, but the good is often too interlaced with the bad. Does Neighbours have the repeat value of stateside soap opera titans? That I don't know. I need to see Neighbours' 2010 “Who pushed P.R.?” drama in its entirety to be sure.
Reassessing Repossessed
by Kristin Battestella
The Exorcist star Linda Blair is all grown up and, according to our theme song, “re-re-repossessed” in the 1990 head-spinning, pea soup spewing, oft-maligned spoof Repossessed. Priest Leslie Nielsen (Dracula: Dead and Loving It) is on the devilish case, escalating to the Pope saving souls on live television and an infamously low 11% Rotten Tomatoes score – if viewers remember Repossessed at all. With today's cult-like administration practices, however, it's time to reassess how the religious and political satire of the much derided Repossessed may have actually been ahead of its time.
As a kid, Repossessed was one of my VHS staples. 1990 was still very eighties and Reagan-esque, so anything scandalous with tawdry nudity was treasured. When the bimbo in the front row at Father Leslie's lecture is showing too much leg, he asks her to pull down her dress. She of course responses by pulling the top down and letting the bazongas free. Re-watching Repossessed now, there were many more anticipated punchlines and rim shots that still made me laugh – much to the chagrin of my never-seen-it-before husband who was both annoyed at my predictions and didn't find any of it all that funny. Such datedness is indeed much of the problem with Repossessed. Like new viewers who won't understand the Glenn Miller jokes on The Golden Girls, Repossessed is so overly reliant on eighties scandals, headlines, and pop culture moments that you really had to be there to get it. You may think that makes Repossessed bad now, but just think how all today's quip a minute movies will be undiscernible in forty years!
Demure, yuppie housewife Blair (Witchery) who's supposed to have the ideal conservative life is once again possessed by the devil, who discovers that exorcisms on television are the gateway to spreading demons to leaders across the globe thanks to America's sanctimonious floundering over the likes of Jerry Falwell and Jessica Hahn. Telethon cameos from Body by Jake, Jesse Ventura, and more people modern viewers probably won't recognize anchor music montages to “Devil with the Blue Dress On” but, do folks today even know that song? Yes, it's busy and messy, descending into mixed meta, slow chases, and the Pope on guitar. Repossessed does not always succeed in its larger satire comedy thanks to a muddled, stupid finale designed for the MTV generation. Had Repossessed had a more finely tuned script or edit then, maybe it wouldn't have flopped into obscurity. The “Father Mayii” name in itself is hysterically genius to every twelve year old.
Anthony Starke (The Magnificent Seven) is also here as Nielsen's priestly sidekick, and for a time, to me as a precocious kid anyway, it seemed that he'd cornered the market on satirical genre fare thanks to the likewise shrewd Return of the Killer Tomatoes. Blair and Nielsen also seem to be having a great time with the self-referential performances, confronting Blair's horror typecasting while Nielsen lampoons it – like when our priest is caught on camera calling his agent asking how to get out of this. For all the nostalgic eighties floral prints, bright colors, and big hair; Repossessed actually looks good when it comes to the expected Exorcist effects, making one wonder what might have happened if the story was told straight. However, to be so chilling was not Repossessed's intent. Unfortunately, viewing Repossessed again under the orange cloud that is Trump brings the film disturbingly full circle. The devil shall enter in via the perfect housewife! How can he spread evil to the masses? Television!
When Repossessed originally bombed at the box office in the Fall of 1990, Trump was already a well-known, notorious businessman with his Art of the Deal ghostwritten fakery – as parodied in much better in Back to the Future Part II. It wasn't until the 2004 reality show The Apprentice that Trump was re-imagined as savvy cool wealthy business leader who could fire at will. Television had made the now seemingly downright demure scandals of the eighties mocked in Repossessed, and the reality show era likewise capitalized on creating scripted shock value. Now, the daily absurdities and constantly escalating extremes of our current regime make Repossessed perhaps seem even weaker because it doesn't go far enough. We were too innocent then to think you could pretend to be Jesus and piss off the Pope and just get away with it. Our husband and son just want their possessed mom back sans the demonic drama and split pea soup. American families currently suffering the increasing sociopolitical consequences can certainly relate to the desire for normalcy. Devil with a blue dress blue dress blue dress devilwithabluedresson...we impeached a president for lying about a stain on a blue dress but now we let them tear down the East Wing and hawk edited Bibles with Trump's gold seal of approval. Make it make sense!
Even if you don't get all the pop culture puns or televangelist taboos and thus some of the jokes fall flat, there's a lot of Repossessed that's eerily all too familiar thanks to the contemporary political climate. Don't dismiss the comedy performances and social commentary just based on that Rotten Tomato score. Reassess Repossessed and heed the horror comedy parable.
It's been a VHS Summer at the Binge Movies Home Video podcast! It was so exciting to take part in the John Hughes episode ranking National Lampoon's Vacation, Sixteen Candles, Ferris Bueller's Day Off and more!
Thank you Jason for inviting me to take part! Direct messages are open on Blue Sky for 2026 audio/visual inquiries. It's so wonderful to be so booked and busy as part of the podcasting community! I'm grateful to have my opinions heard. Revisit all my past Podcast appearances including:
Lone Acting Nominee City Slickers
The Revisionist Almanac 1956 Oscars
Despite these increasingly turbulent times - or just to spite them! - I sat down again with Jaylan Salah to have a charming chat about The Adventures of Priscilla Queen of the Desert, The Vampire Lovers, and more of our favorite Pride picks on The Jay Days Review YouTube Channel! I'm grateful to be an ally and discuss what our favorites get wrong as well as what rainbow they get right.
Desert Hearts and When We Rise
I had such fun chatting with The Lone Acting Nominee Podcast about Jack Palance & City Slickers!
It's so great to be a part of so many new Podcasts in 2025! Join me on Blue Sky for more collaborations or browse the Podcast tag for more appearances including:
Hateship Loveship on the Female Gaze Podcast
Critic Spotlight: Kristin Battestella on The Women InSession Podcast at InSessionFilm.com
Women's History Month Collab with The Revisionist's Almanac Podcast
My Coffin of Oscar Disdain
by Kristin Battestella
My piss-ant attitude toward Oscar pundits this messy awards season did not happen overnight. As I've mentioned on Blue Sky and in several Video and Podcast appearances alongside my previous Why I'm Disinterested in Awards Season op-ed; my disdain for the Academy Awards began early. Here then are the chronological nails in my coffin and why the head scratching, so often erroneous Oscars are not worth such out of control, vicarious obsession for everything but the films that are supposed to mean the most to us.
As a kid in the eighties I was aware of the Oscars purely as prestige. Awards were for art house, international, period piece epics and serious films that I often didn't get to see. Oscar winning films weren't for everyone, and that exclusivity remains largely true. Many popular films and blockbusters or genre hits of the decade have endured more than many of the obscure, out of touch eighties Best Picture nominees. Maybe I didn't understand the details then, but the Academy's unwelcoming, full of itself nature was already apparent.
The Searchers receiving no nominations
When we got our first VCR, I fell in love with what cinema should be upon seeing The Searchers. In consulting my ye olde film guides and Oscar books, however, I was completely baffled that The Searchers not only didn't win any of the big awards, but it wasn't even nominated for anything! This was a how sway before there was even how sway. I read more literature agreeing on the mastery of John Ford's seminal piece, and this lack of Academy acknowledgment remains flat out WRONG. Little me knew it then, and my disdain deepened upon reading of more fifties Oscars errors – like Rear Window going empty-handed.
Goodfellas losing Best Picture
Surely, historical Oscar mistakes were just a fluke of classic film to be studied, right? Alas no, as I saw the Academy screw up again in real time when Goodfellas did not win Best Picture. Everything I already thought about Oscar's elite attitudes was compounded by the white savior Dances with Wolves defeating the unmistakably Italian Goodfellas. This egregiousness made it personal.
Falling in love with the mid-century acting masterclass that is Montgomery Clift's unfortunately brief body of work is something every so-called classic connoisseur should do. Although nominated four times for The Search, A Place in The Sun, From Here to Eternity and Judgment at Nuremberg; Clift never won. A case can also be made that he deserved more nominations for The Heiress, Red River, I Confess, Suddenly Last Summer, Wild River, or The Misfits yet because he's not an Oscar winner, Clift is now considered somewhat second tier in the classic pantheon. My budding teen self was once again confounded how some of the best films and performances will always be on the outside looking in when it comes to Oscar.
The ignoring of Terence Stamp for The Adventures of Priscilla Queen of the Desert
Obviously I knew nothing of the drag scene in nineties Sydney, but I learned everything I needed to know about rainbow compassion from Priscilla. Famed as the villainous Zod in Superman, Stamp's middle-aged transsexual widow was a revelation transcending cinema. A tender, delicate performance that was a bold, daring statement speaking to post-AIDS attitudes that continues to resonate today. Naturally the fearful Academy dared not touch such superb insight – instead choosing the relative safety of only acknowledging Priscilla for costumes.
L.A. Confidential not winning Best Picture
Somewhere along the line I heard someone say that the Screenplay winners are actually the better movies than what wins Best Picture. Never has this been more true than the heaps of praise upon the blockbuster Titanic, which is not the better picture than the neo noir masterpiece that is L.A. Confidential. Here the eighties prestige swung the other way – choosing the popular film and box office success as increasingly necessary to win. Whether you are a complex, sophisticated piece that stands the test of time apparently has nothing to do with it.
No nomination for Guy Pearce for Memento
Too bad for everyone who's tired of hearing me say it, but this is my hill. Guy Pearce's lack of Academy acknowledgment for Memento highlights all of Oscar's problems. Playing it safe #oscarssowhite not properly awarding Denzel Washington for Malcolm X lead to his against type make up win alongside the nomination acclaiming offensive performances like I Am Sam. This slap in the face was enough to make me stop actively paying attention to awards season for the rest of the decade. When the Academy doesn't recognize someone like Pearce and Christopher Nolan as the future of twenty-first century cinema, what are they even doing?
A point for Christian Bale's win!
Believe it or not, I took one nail out of my Oscar coffin in 2011 when Christian Bale won for The Fighter. I even called my parents to tell them the kid from Newsies won an Oscar! Despite his previously being overlooked for more daring performances like American Psycho and The Machinist, this was a rare occasion where the Academy finally did something right.
Michael Fassbender's nominations for the wrong films
Of course, my return to active awards interest was not meant to be as the impressive Fassbender was ignored for excellent performances in Hunger and Fish Tank. He was on the outside looking in at no nomination for Shame with jokes all season instead, and Carey Mulligan was also unfairly lost in the shuffle. Of course, Fassbender was graced with a seemingly obligated nomination for 12 Years a Slave, and I laughed at his subsequent nod for the stereotypically baity Steve Jobs. Forcing one of our most daring actors into awards safety turned me away yet again.
Guy Pearce receiving no acknowledgment for The Rover
I casually knew Pearce was once again not in the awards conversation for The Rover, having long accepted that it's worth seeking out his edgy, raw films that standing pat Oscar would never touch. However after having to wait for and then finally see The Rover, I was once again angry at how the supposed bar of award excellence could ignore such haunting material. Even in absentia this reaffirmed my Oscar free attitude for the next decade.
So now I was lured into the awards circus once more thanks to the world's apparently waking up to Guy Pearce's being worthy of acclaim for The Brutalist. We're in the home stretch of what has been the messiest, nastiest, cutthroat, and ridiculous award season. Everything about why I hated awards has increased tenfold in the social media age with Oscar obsession totally out of touch on everything that's happening in this disastrous 2025. Euphoric pundits play along in a game of predictions, patterns, and if this than that algorithms that have nothing to do with any meaning found in the films and performances. When the wannabe experts admit that the best doesn't win, film goers are supposed to accept that falsehood instead of enjoy the movies that move them? I object the devotion to contrived Academy politics over quality cinema.
I don't expect Guy Pearce to win anything. Even if he did, this year is the tenth and final nail in my Coffin of Oscar Disdain. I've had one foot out the door with my back turned for most of this century, and I will never be drawn back into award punditry and patheticness over art ever again.
Oscar is dead to me. I don't know her. ⚰️
In the spirit of the season, I make another holiday video appearance on The Jay Days YouTube channel. This time we discuss our favorite A Christmas Carol adapations - from Alastair Sim to Guy Pearce!
Massive thanks to all the podcasts and video outlets that have invited me to join them this year! You can follow any guest spots you may have missed with the Podcast and Video tags, and stay tuned for more upcoming appearances.
If you are interested in a 2025 collaboration, messages are still open on Twitter however I much prefer Blue Sky. Follow all my Jay Days Reviews guest appearances also with this handy YouTube Playlist!
More Dickens Reviews and Links:
Women InSession: A Christmas Carol podcast
