Dear James,
So you don’t think much of the Academy. That’s okay. A lot of us don’t. And after the outcome of last night’s awards — in which capping an inevitable Best Picture Oscar for the safe, stolid stylings of “The King’s Speech” with that extraneous Best Director win for a worried-looking Tom Hooper was roughly akin to dipping Wonderbread in milk for maximum squishiness — I suspect even a lot of movie buffs who don’t make a year-round sport of henpecking the Academy’s choices are on your side.
Your antipathy towards the Academy may be rooted in different disappointments than those of the blogging majority. We know for starters that you don’t much rate “The Social Network,” the 2010 title most clearly destined to fill the blank in many a “How did _______ lose?” whine-fest between awards geeks in years hence.
But Lord knows your own pony was even more cruelly treated by voters: when the film’s artsy death-rattle of a theme song couldn’t even beat a rushed Randy Newman Xerox of a Pixar jingle that everybody forgot he already won for in 2001, it was clear the once-so-buzzy “127 Hours” had been reduced to a phantom presence in this year’s race.

With the season now unshakeably upon us, it’s time to dust off the annual conversation topic of who should host the upcoming Academy Awards ceremony. I am prompted to do so, of course, by Deadline’s recent
“Mila Kunis is so winning Best Supporting Actress this year,” remarked an independent filmmaker to me over drinks today, referring, of course, to the 27 year-old’s sly breakout turn in Darren Aronofsky’s 
“Good is the enemy of Great,” wrote Jim Collins, in one of the more high-maintenance self-help plans you’re likely to encounter. As nice a thought as it is, this law appears to have no place in the world of the Hollywood franchise blockbuster, where Crap is the enemy of pretty much everything, and Good is usually one courtesy too many for time-strapped, dollar-eyed producers.

It’s been over a month since we cranked out an installment of The Lists, but with Quentin Tarantino’s “Inglourious Basterds” set for release on Friday, it seemed a good time to cook up a new collective.

America liked it and they put a ring on it.
When Joe Wright’s “The Soloist” was shifted from prime Oscar territory last autumn to a considerably more low-profile 2009 slot, many presumed that the film was something of an artistic disappointment. However, word also went round that the move was a sympathetic one, aimed to place less pressure on a film that, despite the talent involved, was more crowdpleaser than prestige item.


Yesterday the Academy