Given that the notion of independent thinking is dead in Hollywood, not only are its films generally a bore, but so are the assorted award shows that bestow usually undeserved laurels upon them.
The last in the line of the Big Statuette Giveaways is, of course, the annual Oscarcast - the biggest company picnic ever. And the general feeling is that all the other piddling award presentations that precede it have effectively watered down its importance. Probably. But what about the utter predictablity of the modern awards process in general?
Even before the nominations were announced this year, it had become (rather painfully) apparent that 2011's Oscar victors would be Colin Firth, Natalie Portman, Christian Bale, Melissa Leo and, if the Weinsteins have their way (and they probably will), "The King's Speech." No contest. Yawn.
Exacerbating matters is the news that this year's Oscarcast will be hosted by the ubiquitous (and oddly unappealing) James Franco and bland Anne Hathaway who, I sense, will work hard at being "cute" and witty.