Mad Max: Fury Road opened this weekend and, taking in 45 million at the box office and maintaining an amazing 98% rating at Rotten Tomatoes, it has thrilled both critics and audiences. From George Miller’s breakneck direction to Charlize Theron’s performance as a one-armed warrior queen, there is much to praise about Mad Max: Fury Road. For many, though, the best part of the film is the “crazy guitar guy.”
If you have seen Max Max: Fury Road, you know exactly who I am talking about. He is the red jumpsuit-wearing, masked man who plays a mean guitar and wields a flamethrower at the same time. When the War Boys chase Furiousa and Max across the desert, he is a passenger on a massive truck. On the back of the truck, drummers pound away. On the front of truck, he dangles above a stack of speakers and amplifiers while playing a double-neck guitar that is also a flame thrower. Though he is known to many as simply being the crazy guitar guy, his character has a name. He is Coma, the Doof Warrior. In just one weekend, he has become a cult hero.
iOTA
The Doof Warrior is played by Australian musician and theatrical actor, iOTA (born Sean Hape). In an interview with Yahoo Movies, iOTA describes the Doof Warrior as being “a post-apocalyptic drummer boy.” From the drummer boys who played and often died on Civil War battlegrounds to the modern-day soldiers who blasted Rock the Casbah during the Invasion of Iraq, music and war have always gone together. The Doof Warrior’s heavy metal riffs are the perfect battle music for Mad Max‘s hyper-masculine War Boys.
Why, in a film full of crazy characters and exciting moments, has the Doof Warrior become so popular? The most obvious answer is that he looks cool and he has a flamethrower. However, another reason is that we know nothing about him. For all the attention that he has received, the Doof Warrior is only onscreen for a handful of minutes and he has no dialogue. Miller and iOTA worked out an elaborate backstory for the Doof Warrior but none of it is revealed in the movie. Much like Boba Fett in The Empire Strikes Back (and before the character was ruined with Attack of the Clones), the Doof Warrior remains an enigma who can be whatever we want or need him to be.
Beyond that, the Doof Warrior is living the fantasy of everyone who has ever played air guitar or spent hours debating whether James Hetfield or Kirk Hammett is the better guitarist. Anyone who has ever taken a guitar lesson has fantasized about watching an audience go mad while listening to his music. The War Boys may be going to war but the Doof Warrior is playing the greatest concert of his life. No wonder that, even when he is in the middle of a battle, the Doof Warrior never stops playing.
So, before his legacy is tarnished by bad fanfic and tumblr overexposure, let us take a minute to raise a glass to the coolest character in the coolest film of the year, the one and only Doof Warrior.
On a bit of a lark, I posted an article last week about some of my odd experiences as a kid on the internet in the 90s. That got me listening to a bunch of music that has no obvious connection to the things I wrote about. My metal choices became more industrial. I fired up the Lost in Translation soundtrack for the first time in ages. I fell in love with vaporwave’s sardonic spin on muzak and smooth jazz… Hey, this sounds like an excuse to post a music series!
90s internet was obsessed with fantasy and science fiction. “Nerds” were more likely to be online. (My family got dial-up because my mother was a computer programmer.) Free online gaming was dominated by MUDs and forum RPGs, as they were well suited for text-based environments and stemmed from a long tradition. Most of all, it was the easiest place for that demographic to congregate. (Why do we have Sports Bars but not Dungeon Masters’ Taverns?) If you came to the internet enjoying console RPGs, you might well leave loving anime and Dungeons & Dragons, too, and sharing an odd obsession with that island off the east coast of Asia that gave us so much of it. Japan was an exotic world full of technologically advanced cities, as I imagined it, and its number one export for me was high-tech fiction.
That is how I came to engage futuristic universes like Akira and Ghost in the Shell. Japan brought cyberpunk into the mainstream for my generation. (It was years before I watched Blade Runner.) The internet was the new frontier of technology, so the genre sort of resonated with the medium through which I encountered it. Ghost in the Shell in particular asked a lot of relevant questions regarding how technology impacted identity. On the internet, anonymity was a sort of virtue, and that always fascinated me. I also saw, as time went by, a lot of commonalities between the internet and cyberpunk’s dystopian societies. Corporate monopolies replaced niche vendors. Advertising expanded wildly, still all in-your-face pop-up adds pushing pornography and all-you-can-eat, 0%-down, free trial chances to become an instant winner. Forums became overcrowded, scaling up from hundreds of active users to tens of thousands. Screen names ceased to provide even temporary identification as people no longer bothered looking at them. Copycat conformity and superficial cheap thrills dominated where people had once engaged each other with thought and imagination.
In both cyberpunk and the internet, you had an acknowledged gap between the corporate world and the masses. In Final Fantasy VII, for instance, Midgar’s dark, towering inner city emitted a filth of neon commercial sleaze and ill-earned luxury that opposed the sunshine and suffering warmth of its dilapidated ghettos. This disparity was clear, both to the player and to Midgar’s fictional inhabitants. The antagonists were balding, broad-wasted businessmen and corporate gangsters. The heroes toppled the system through sabotage, creating a ripple effect that rocked the masses and–not so much in FF7, but definitely elsewhere–turned them against their corporate overlords. The fact that capitalism felt evil or sleazy, both online and in the fiction, proved awareness of the gap. If the system was working properly, the masses would willingly accept their position and not eye commercialism warily or respond to tremors beneath. There would be no vulnerability–no means to revolution–and subsequently, in a lot of these stories, nothing to drive the plot forward.
The gap emerged in fiction because it made for an interesting story. It emerged in real life because the internet simply hadn’t been reigned in yet. Corporations were still scrambling to keep up with rapidly changing demands emanating from an unregulated hive mind. In both cases, the appeal was a sense of empowerment. Anonymity within an unstable system enabled anyone, theoretically, to mastermind changes in behavior of the masses and then slip back into the shadows. It was a utopian dystopia. It was too easy.
Today’s social media, integrated subliminal advertising, and tailor-made instant-gratification entertainment indicate a highly functional, invulnerable corporate society. The internet is a bleak, soulless place where people narrate their artificial lives to the wind, proudly displaying every ounce of their shallow identities. You might grasp the banality for a moment and try to spread the word, but open ears are hard to come by, and before you seek them you just have to watch this Youtube video about the 10 craziest moments in… something. C’est la vie.
But that is why internet and the 90s makes me reflect nostalgically on sweaty used car dealers in crooked toupees; Tokyo as an exotic, futuristic world; Groomed corporate elites snorting cocaine on their private jets; Sleazy, shameless advertising; Revolutions begun by untraceable, nameless figures in archaic chatrooms; The machine consuming itself and collapsing into anarchy; Most of all, the freedom to roam a vast, incomprehensible urban landscape without consequence.
Maserati are a post-rock band from the music capital of the southeast: Athens, Georgia. “Inventions” appears on their 2007 release, Inventions for the New Season (which I always thought was a really awkward title). Their line-up at the time included the late Jerry Fuchs, who was involved in a lot of significant acts before his tragic death: !!!, MSTRKRFT, LCD Soundsystem.
This song found its way into my mix as a result of my brief foray into RPGMaker. I got it in my head to make a cyberpunk RPG based loosely around a collaborative story that I took part in back on the Nintendo.com forums in ’98. Futuristic tile sets were pretty hard to come by, and I turned to music to set the tone of the game. I put “Inventions” to work when the player finished up the introduction sequence and became free to explore. The song captured for me the feeling of walking along the massive streets of a futuristic city in the dead of night.
My childhood heroes all had the first name “NOA”. They were the living, breathing avatars of Nintendo of America. And Nintendo was perfection, for all practical purposes. But like demigods, they were simultaneously divine and human. NOAPaul was a tough guy. A real street thug, with a tongue ring and everything. NOATravis, he was your boyband jock. Oh, the envy. And NOAAmy… did you know that she played Secret of Mana and Chrono Trigger? I did. Imagine it: a girl who played RPGs.
One day, I was going to be a Nintendo Power Cyberjock too. It was my highest aspiration. Forget astronauts and fire fighters. If Paul and Travis could become Nintendo of America, so could I. And maybe I would make Amy my wife, though she was a withering old spinster of 24.
At 11 years old, I was dedicated to my future career. To become a professional avatar of Nintendo, you had to really know your facts. I was already on the right track, because I owned all 84 issues of Nintendo Power magazine. The knowledge was at my fingertips, but it was vast… so I decided to cheat.
I booted up my Gateway 2000 386/25–it was mine in practice, since my mother finished college–and I headed straight to WordPerfect. If I could quickly search a game name and know exactly which issue and page to check for information… A month later, I possessed a complete index of the entire Nintendo Power catalog. And you thought you were a lame kid.
But there I was, equipped for battle. Ask me about a game. I dare you. I had it down to a science. I could look up a relevant article and spit out an answer within a minute, and Nintendo of America would never know that I cheated. They would think I was just that good. I sent in my job application right then and there, along with a crayola masterpiece of Samus Aran battling Ridley.
I didn’t get the job, but that was probably for the best, since we did not actually subscribe to dial-up internet for another six months and “Cyberjocks” worked online. A minor technicality. Still, I kept Nintendo Power Issue 84 close at hand.
The fame. The glory. The honor.
*Section removed due to copyright issues. They were compressed scans of an out of print magazine spread welcoming you to the Nintendo Loud House with some amazingly dorky-looking staff members striking a pose.*
My first actual experience on http://www.nintendo.com, some time in 1996, was overwhelming. I had waited so long for this. Line by line, the pixels of that jpeg unfurled in slow motion. “Nintendo Power Source”. “Welcome to http://www.nintendo.com”. I was there. And it was wonderful.
Nintendo.com was a disorganized sea of information that you could spend all day exploring (especially on a 14.4k modem). There was a frame up top filled with totally nondescript or misleading images that would link you to different parts of the site, and each of those sections had its own upper frame of links. They could take you anywhere. The internet had no rules yet, you see. For instance, there was a really buried subsection called the “N-List” that linked all kinds of random fan sites totally unmoderated by Nintendo, mostly hosted on Geocities. As a consequence, through Nintendo.com you discovered such wonders as this flattering photo of the founder of popular present-day gaming website RPGamer:
(Sorry.)
Ultimately though, I went to the Loud House. That was where the NOA gods resided. To get there, I had to travel underground, down an elevator shaft that consisted of scrolling really far in a narrow frame to the left. If I thought the main site enormous, the Loud House was madness. They had a proto-forum–everyone still called them bulletin board systems then, though it was not an authentic BBS–where topics appeared in a single endless list set to a fire-engine red background with the texture of an aluminum tool box. Damn was it beautiful.
I knew there had to be at least a few dozen RPG fans out there besides myself and NOAAmy, but I never predicted this. The realization that I could be a part of a secret society of hundreds of Square(soft) aficionados must have waylaid my dreams of working for Nintendo for a time, because I don’t remember doing anything but theorycrafting Final Fantasy III (sic) for the next few months. I would spend every school bus ride studying my official players guide, looking for minute typographical errors that could be exploded into radical theories to share with my peers. I actually killed 4,000 dinosaurs in that forest near the Veldt in the false hope of resurrecting General Leo.
Eventually the forums changed, and so did I. They became more manageable and subdivided into “boards”. Me, I became 12, and that meant responsibility. I couldn’t just be another anonymous Joe researching Final Fantasy VI anymore, aging in obscurity as fame and fortune passed me by. I needed to get back to my dreams, and that required becoming involved in the social community. So I did what anyone would have done back then to turn the page: I changed my name.
That was a principle of the Old Internet that runs totally counter to modern social media culture and may have culminated with 4chan and the birth of Anonymous–the hactivist organization that never actually existed yet frequented headline news throughout 2008. You were really empowered to dictate how a community perceived you. You could completely ‘reset’ your identity at the click of a button, experimenting with different personas until you found one that jived with the community. Nintendo Power even encouraged this behavior in Issue 72:
So died BobaFett207, and a new entity dove into the RPGs board with a mission to earn the unrivaled respect and adoration of its citizens. (His mom also lifted the half hour limit on web browsing, so he actually had time to read replies and stuff.)
What I found was appalling. My plans were immediately surmounted by a more pressing issue. The release of Final Fantasy VII was rapidly approaching, and people were actually discussing the Playstation.
The Playstation. The Sony Playstation, in what would one day be my Nintendo kingdom. These were the filthy traitors who planned to endorse Squaresoft’s debauchery, and they had to be destroyed. I charged head-first, furious and uncaring of the consequences. “JERK!” “IDIOT!” “HOW COULD U!” I let the hatred flow through me, channeling it into dozens of single-sentence replies, until a thread title appeared that gave me pause. It said “ATTN: SHADOW 4000”. That was me! Registered only one day, and my new identity was already known to the community! The post, no doubt, would praise me for my heroic defense of truth and the Nintendo 64.
It did. This was where, in retrospect, things got weird. I wasn’t banned by a forum moderator, or even told to shut up. No, I was invited to join the NES Knights–a legion of warriors who, like me, vowed to fight against the evils of the Sony Playstation. I was promptly recruited and informed that we were at war with the Freedom Knights, who had organized to defend forum-goers’ rights to enjoy non-Nintendo products.
I earned my first stripes when the PSX Invaders came to town. They were a band of ruffians that would show up every few weeks and ravage the RPGs board by posting hundreds of threads titled “N64 SUX”, “PSX 4 LIFE”, etc. Certain that I could stop the incessant barrage of spam posts, I set a clever trap. “ATTN: PSX INVADERS” the thread title ran, and when they clicked it… BAM! “***FIRE LANCE X***” As I am sure you expected, this worked phenomenally. Two invaders stopped spamming and engaged me with their own barrage of attacks. I parried them as best I could, while fellow forum-goers engaged them similarly in other threads. The battle was long and bloody, but we were victorious.
I had found my true calling. Every evening, after school, I would log on to the Loud House RPGs board and train with my allies or engage rival groups. I even started my own, which amassed over 100 members. This was clearly my best route to becoming an official Nintendo-employed Cyberjock… while that dream lasted. It all came crashing down on Thanksgiving Day 1997. Nintendo deleted the Loud House.
And in its place, they created NSider. NSider was ugly, stupid, and it featured Diddy Kong instead of Fulgore.
>
Worst of all, by far, they renamed my precious board “Other RPGs”. Other! Lesser! Inconsequential! And why? The only reasonable explanation was to emphasize the Zelda board. Practically in tears, I called my RPGs brothers to arms. The Zelda board must pay. That war would last for weeks, because the Zelda board was well organized under the Zelda Alliance. (This same game had been going on there all along, despite there being almost no overlap in users.)
As it turned out, the game was not just an RPGs board thing or a Nintendo.com thing, but a common trend throughout the internet. As we transitioned away from NSider to Geocities and forum hosts like VantageNet and InsideTheWeb, we encountered more of the same everywhere. It was as if thousands of kids were dumped into an empty field and told: “Play. No one is watching.” You will never find a Wayback Machine record of the bizarre, seemingly pandemic consequences, but if you were socially engaged in the 90s internet before high school, you probably belonged to some sort of guild.
I tended to see a change in people when they got to be 13 or 14, and the game for them might transition into an interactive story. These were shared universe worlds in which participants would write a collaborative fiction story through their individual characters’ perspectives. It wasn’t RP, but rather a real (poorly written and highly derivative) novel, and it could go on for years. The one that began on the Loud House RPGs board amassed thousands of pages (which were archived). Alternatively, the game would evolve into cyberbullying. Account security was non-existent and cracking tools were a dime a dozen on Yahoo!. A lot of sites also used forms to password protect their content, and the redirect link was usually embedded right in the HTML code. As a high school freshman, you were too “mature” to pretend you were a wizard anymore, so you pretended you were a 1337 hacker instead. It was not uncommon to see a Geocities site vanish over night, replaced by “Conquered by” so-and-so. My first email address got hijacked. It was actually kind of stressful.
But that was the 90s internet as I remember it. …Am I supposed to inject some sort of closing point or moral here?
Rickie Fowler’s performance in the fourth round of The 2015 Players Championship today was definitely one for the ages. He shot six under on the final six holes and beat out Sergio Garcia and Kevin Kisner in a playoff, sealing the deal with a beautiful shot off the tee and a short putt on the most iconic hole on the PGA tour: the 17th at TPC Sawgrass. The sports commentators immediately started to speculate whether this might be the performance that finally launched The Players into Major Championship status, and I cringed.
The obvious argument against a fifth major is that it would dilute the significance of the other four. Four is a sort of magic number long accepted in individual sports as the amount of events that are allowed to matter most. Five would mean that no one Major Championship is as important as a Grand Slam tournament in tennis. Five would make career grand slams even more difficult to obtain. Five would forever taint the man who finally breaks Jack’s 18.
But besides that, being golf’s fifth best tournament is part of what makes The Players special. Sports history is important in golf. You get a vision in your head of how you want that history to unfold, and it gives you an emotional connection to how individual players perform. I want to see Tiger get his game back. I want to see Phil and Rory thrive. I want to see Lee Westwood and Henrik Stenson claim that elusive first major before their careers dwindle to a close. I get a sense of satisfaction watching Jim Furyk and knowing that he did pull it off. Everything ties back to those four majors. Once you win, you’re in the club of legends. I mean, no one is ever going to suggest that Shaun Micheel had a better career than Colin Montgomerie, but his feels more complete in a sense.
And that’s where The Players comes in. It’s the tournament that is almost a major. It is almost complete, but something is missing. It needs more, and the right names in the winners’ circle give it more… but never quite enough. If the majors make legends, legends make The Players. It’s one of the only tournaments where the event and the player can both benefit from each other’s prestige.
Saturday night, I had all but lost interest. In terms of seeing the tournament thrive, the top 10 was a ghost town. I felt a distant glimmer of hope that Sergio Garcia could pull something off (he nearly did). Otherwise, uh, go Bill Haas I guess. Then, Rickie Fowler surged up the leaderboard in the ultimate aura of almost. A nearly major champion who should have five or six wins on tour, his biggest career highlight was his streak of not quite winning scores in majors in 2014. He won the almost major championship in style, proving that he’s just as good as we didn’t quite believe he was. And he beat Kevin Kisner, a guy most of us were rooting against because this was the last tournament we wanted a no-name to win.
Everything about the 2015 Players Championship felt really good. A tournament in eternal need of more big name winners got one. A big name in need of career highlights got one. A guy with no highlights to speak of is now on our radar without having ultimately spoiled our fun. And Fowler’s performance was thrilling to watch besides all that. It’s no wonder the announcers were all talking Major Championship status, but it is exactly why The Players needs to stay right where it is. This year serves once again to show how well The Players fulfills its role as a “to be continued” event leading into the U.S. Open. If we made them equals, we might diminish them both.
Today is the 100th birthday of the great filmmaker and showman Orson Welles! And what better way to celebrate than listening to the famous 1938 radio broadcast of War of the Worlds? Reportedly, this caused mass panic when it was originally aired as people tuned in late and were convinced that the Earth actually had been invaded by Martians!
(Like Martians would want this dump! Seriously….)
Enjoy and join us all in wishing Orson Welles a happy 100th!
So, it looks like the fight of the century between Floyd Mayweather, Jr and Manny Pacquiao turned out to be more of a whimper instead of a bang.
Now, this short, but sweet 3-round fight from April, 15, 1985 was (and is) what a great fight looks like. It’s the kind of fight Floyd will never put himself in and the sort of fighters he would duck and dodge until they’re on the downside of their careers then he would agree for the money fight.
Floyd is not, as he proclaimed a couple weeks ago, the greatest fighter ever. He’s no Muhammad Ali. He’s no Sugar Ray Robinson. He’s not even in the same league as Sugar Ray Leonard, Roberto Duran, Marvin Hagler and Thomas Hearns.
We lost three talented character actors this week.
Tom Towles (March 20, 1950–April 5, 2015) may have never been a household name but he was well-known to horror fans. In Rob Zombie’s House of a 1,000 Corpses, he played George Wydell, the gruff deputy who was executed by Karen Black’s Mama Firefly. In Tom Savini’s underrated remake of Night of the Living Dead, he took over the role of Harry Cooper and was executed by Patricia Tallman’s Barbara.
However, he was best known for playing the loathsome Otis in Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer. Taken under the wing of serial killer Henry (Michael Rooker), Otis is such an enthusiastic and depraved student that even Henry grows disgusted with him. Based on real-life murderer Ottis Toole, Otis is one of the most disgusting and plausible of movie psychos. Playing a stupid character, Towles gave a very intelligent performance.
Before being cast as Otis, Towles served in the Marines and was active in Chicago theater. He died in Florida, of a massive stroke.
James Best (July 26th, 1926–April 6th, 2015) played many different roles but he will always be best known as Sheriff Roscoe P. Coltrane of Hazzard County. Born in Kentucky, Best proudly served in World War II and started acting in 1950. For the first part of his career, he played cowboys, soldiers, outlaws, and sidekicks. In The Twilight Zone episode “The Last Rites of Jeff Myrtlebank,” he played a country boy who came back to life in the middle of his funeral. On The Andy Griffith Show, he played guitar player Jim Lindsey. He showed his versatility in films like Sam Fuller’s Shock Corridor and Max Baer’s Ode To Billy Joe.
Most people know him for his role on The Dukes of Hazzard. For 6 years, Best played Roscoe P. Coltrane and his performance has lived on and been rediscovered in endless syndicated reruns. Roscoe was forever in “hot pursuit,” chasing the Duke boys with his basset hound, Flash, sitting in the car beside him. Roscoe never came close to catching the Dukes but he never stopped trying. There was nothing subtle about Best’s performance but it was perfect for The Dukes of Hazzard.
James Best was also a painter and a respected acting coach, as well as an early mentor to Quentin Tarantino. He passed away at the age of 88 from pneumonia.
Geoffrey Lewis (July 31st, 1935–April 7th, 2015) began his career in 1970 and, at the time of his passing, he had over 200 credited roles to his name. With a face that could either be friendly or threatening depending on how it was lit, Lewis played truck drivers and senators, criminals and lawyers, good old boys and corporate businessmen. Lewis was the epitome of a character actor, never quite a star but making even the smallest of roles memorable.
He was a favorite of Clint Eastwood’s and appeared in seven films with him. In Every Which Way But Loose and Any Which Way You Can, he played Orville and stole scenes from not only Clint Eastwood and Ruth Gordon but from Clyde the Orangutan as well. More recently, he brought tragic dignity to the role of Roy Sullivan in Rob Zombie’s The Devil’s Rejects.
Tomorrow night, the Oscars will be handed out! Now, I have to admit that, despite all of the time that I spent keeping up with all of the guild awards and the critics award and all the other precursors, I kinda lost interest in the Oscar race after the actual nominations were announced. I took one look at Jeff Wells claiming to be solely responsible for the success of Birdman and Sasha Stone going on and on about Selma and Ryan Adams doing whatever the Hell it is that he supposedly does over at Awards Daily and I just found myself saying, “Fuck it, who cares?”
Seriously, 2015 will be remembered as the year that Oscar punditry jumped the shark. Hopefully, within the next few years, new voices will emerge and we’ll be spared from having to deal with Jeff Wells, Sasha Stone, and all the rest.
The Oscar commentary this year has been so negative and so toxic and so predictably strident and so tediously bitter that I did get a little bit burned out. It just hasn’t been as much fun this year. When, earlier this week, I was reminded that the Oscars were this Sunday, I have to admit that I was taken a little bit by surprise. For some reason, I had gotten into my head that the Oscars were next week.
But anyway, they’re not next week. They’re tomorrow and that means that it is now time for me to try to predict who and what will win tomorrow night. A lot of people are saying that this is the closest Oscar race in years. But you know what? They say that every year.
Remember how there were going to be a lot of upsets last year?
And, in the end, exactly what everyone thought would win did win.
I imagine the same thing will happen this year.
Here are my predictions! I will be listing both what I think will win and what I think should win.
Need to kill some time? Look through all the posts since November and count up how many times this picture has appeared on the site!
Best Picture:
Will Win: Birdman
Should Win: Boyhood
Best Director:
Will Win: Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu for Birdman
Should Win: Richard Linklater for Boyhood
Best Actor
Will Win: Eddie Redmayne for The Theory of Everything
Should Win: Michael Keaton for Birdman
Best Actress
Will Win: Julianne Moore for Still Alice
Should Win: Reese Witherspoon for Wild
Best Supporting Actor
Will and Should Win: J.K. Simmons for Whiplash
Best Supporting Actress
Will and Should Win: Patricia Arquette for Boyhood
Best Original Screenplay
Will Win: Birdman
Should Win: Boyhood
Best Adapted Screenplay
Will and Should Win: Whiplash
Best Animated Feature:
Will Win: How to Train Your Dragon 2
Should Win: Big Hero 6
Best Foreign Language Film
Will Win: Leviathan
Should Win: Ida
Best Documentary Feature
Will Win: CitizenFour
Should Win: Finding Vivian Maier
Best Documentary Short Subject:
Will Win (random guess): Crisis Hotline: Veterans Press 1
Should Win: ???
Best Live Action Short Film:
Will Win (random guess): The Phone Call
Should Win: ???
Best Animated Short Film:
Will and Should Win: My Moulton
Best Original Score:
Will and Should Win: The Theory of Everything
Best Original Song:
Will Win: “Glory” from Selma
Should Win: “Hooray for Everything” from The Lego Movie
Best Sound Editing
Will and Should Win: American Sniper
Best Sound Mixing
Will Win: American Sniper
Should Win: Whiplash
Best Production Design
Will and Should Win: The Grand Budapest Hotel
Best Cinematography
Will Win: Unbroken
Should Win: Ida
Best Makeup and Hairstyling
Will Win: Foxcatcher
Should Win: Guardians of the Galaxy
Best Costume Design
Will Win: The Grand Budapest Hotel
Should Win: Inherent Vice
Best Film Editing
Will and Should Win: Boyhood
Best Visual Effects
Will Win: Interstellar
Should Win: Guardians of the Galaxy
Well, those are my predictions! Will I be right or will I be wrong? We’ll find out tomorrow!
If you have seen Max Max: Fury Road, you know exactly who I am talking about. He is the red jumpsuit-wearing, masked man who plays a mean guitar and wields a flamethrower at the same time. When the War Boys chase Furiousa and Max across the desert, he is a passenger on a massive truck. On the back of the truck, drummers pound away. On the front of truck, he dangles above a stack of speakers and amplifiers while playing a double-neck guitar that is also a flame thrower. Though he is known to many as simply being the crazy guitar guy, his character has a name. He is Coma, the Doof Warrior. In just one weekend, he has become a cult hero.
Beyond that, the Doof Warrior is living the fantasy of everyone who has ever played air guitar or spent hours debating whether James Hetfield or Kirk Hammett is the better guitarist. Anyone who has ever taken a guitar lesson has fantasized about watching an audience go mad while listening to his music. The War Boys may be going to war but the Doof Warrior is playing the greatest concert of his life. No wonder that, even when he is in the middle of a battle, the Doof Warrior never stops playing.
Through the Shattered Lens 