First of all, I still wish I refused to see I Am Love and Black Swan last year. Hurts to this day. Tilda Swinton's hormonal yearnings for shellfish and Barbara Hershey's horrifying love of cake ruined my winter. This year, I'm already dreading J. Edgar. Just too flashy, Oscar-magnetic, and apparently evasive. I actually loved Leo DiCaprio in The Aviator, but he's really doubling up on his face scrunches and monotone proclamations this time around. It's the Brood Diamond, y'all.
If Albert Nobbs starred anyone other than the mighty she-wolf Glenn Close, I'd want to pass. But now that she's an underdog in the Best Actress race, I'm particularly excited to see her pull off 19th-century male jauntiness. In retrospect, I refuse to see The Help. Let's give Viola Davis and Octavia Spencer some statue cred but leave that Easter-colored, happy-clappy morality tale in the dust.
What are your movie nuisances this fall/winter?