Oscar's the Best Birthday Gift Ever
So I wasn't sure how big a fan I was when the Academy decided to move the awards show up about a month last year. I panicked and thought it would give me less time to prepare for the annual showdown with the Adjudicator. And true to form, last year I totally choked and did not pick Lord of the Rings in the Best Adapted Screenplay category (I picked City of God. Was I ON CRACK?) And I ended up tying my pompous ass of a brother (but I say that lovingly,) instead of thumping him like I should have. I blame not enough prep time. Yes, that's what I said.
But I realize this year that the new schedule brings with it a sweet little reward. The nominations come out on my birthday week. YAY! That gives me fodder to talk about the whole week! (Well, what are you complaining about - hit the "Next" button if you don't like the Oscars. No wait! I kid! Come back! I'll be clever, I promise!)
Here's how the annual bet works. For the first year the Adjudicator and I just picked our favourites in every category and let the chips fall as they may. Unforunately, this ended up with us picking essentially the same person and film in just about every category, except where I got all maudlin and picked sentimental favourites. Snoozefest. Plus, the Adjudicator did some research in the documentary and shorts categories and he trounced me there. So I lost. The next year, I called for some reforms and we removed the obscure short film categories. That was the year I decided to go on a blitzkreig and see as many of the nominated films as possible before making my picks. And I got punished and lost again.
The following year we completely revamped the system. And I'd like to think that I got a clean slate, but you know, whatever. The Adjudicator came up with an ingenious "serve and volley" system, whereby the contestants cannot choose the same nominee. So the loser of the previous year (me, *sigh*,) gets to choose first. They get to choose the category and their first pick. So then the other contestant is, presumably, forced to choose their second pick. The second contestant then gets to continue and choose the next category and their first pick. Serve, volley and repeat until all categories are accounted for.
What's ingenious about this system is its hidden complexities. Now, not only do you have to have a first pick for each category, but you also have to have a back-up in case your competitor beats you to the punch. AND, you now need to know which are the clear-cut races because you want to rush to pick them like the plum swing on the playground. But you also need to be aware of the dark horse races so that you can trap your opponent into picking them so that you can screw them in the end. (Damn you Adrian Brody! Damn you to hell! No, actually, I kind of think you've got that somethin' somethin'.)
The first year of the serve-and-volley system I instituted the "Math Rules" system, or the "Numbers Don't Lie" system and I totally nerded my brother out. I researched my picks thoroughly and finalized them based on a cute little statistical analysis I devised myself. (I'm so plucky.) My brother came to the table with a series of chicken-scratch notes on dog-eared paper. I snickered and knew I had him beat. It was also, sweetly, the only year we have ever been able to watch the awards together, since that was the year we were both living in Japan. That was the year that I bit my nails until almost the end of the night, when Denzel Washington took home the Best Actor trophy for playing a bad guy and I finally took down Brother Adjudicator in a round that played out with sweet, sweet eloquence. Ask anyone what category I dread the most, it's Best Actor. If I'm going to get killed, this is the one that kills me every time. So I won that year and I love the serve-and-volley system.
Okay, so the next year I lost again. Royally. Soundly. Thumped. Sure, I used the same numbers system against brother's chicken-scratch, but I blame that loss on Calgary. Stupid Calgary.
And then last year we tied, because I choked on the whole LOTR sweep. I didn't think the sweep was possible, so I over-thought the numbers. Never, never, never overthink the numbers. The numbers DO NOT LIE.
The nominations come out tomorrow and I'll be gushing over them profusely, but I won't be giving away any hints or sources, just in case the powers that be decides to Google me and catch me in my own game. He's going down this year. I have the fire in my belly.
But I realize this year that the new schedule brings with it a sweet little reward. The nominations come out on my birthday week. YAY! That gives me fodder to talk about the whole week! (Well, what are you complaining about - hit the "Next" button if you don't like the Oscars. No wait! I kid! Come back! I'll be clever, I promise!)
Here's how the annual bet works. For the first year the Adjudicator and I just picked our favourites in every category and let the chips fall as they may. Unforunately, this ended up with us picking essentially the same person and film in just about every category, except where I got all maudlin and picked sentimental favourites. Snoozefest. Plus, the Adjudicator did some research in the documentary and shorts categories and he trounced me there. So I lost. The next year, I called for some reforms and we removed the obscure short film categories. That was the year I decided to go on a blitzkreig and see as many of the nominated films as possible before making my picks. And I got punished and lost again.
The following year we completely revamped the system. And I'd like to think that I got a clean slate, but you know, whatever. The Adjudicator came up with an ingenious "serve and volley" system, whereby the contestants cannot choose the same nominee. So the loser of the previous year (me, *sigh*,) gets to choose first. They get to choose the category and their first pick. So then the other contestant is, presumably, forced to choose their second pick. The second contestant then gets to continue and choose the next category and their first pick. Serve, volley and repeat until all categories are accounted for.
What's ingenious about this system is its hidden complexities. Now, not only do you have to have a first pick for each category, but you also have to have a back-up in case your competitor beats you to the punch. AND, you now need to know which are the clear-cut races because you want to rush to pick them like the plum swing on the playground. But you also need to be aware of the dark horse races so that you can trap your opponent into picking them so that you can screw them in the end. (Damn you Adrian Brody! Damn you to hell! No, actually, I kind of think you've got that somethin' somethin'.)
The first year of the serve-and-volley system I instituted the "Math Rules" system, or the "Numbers Don't Lie" system and I totally nerded my brother out. I researched my picks thoroughly and finalized them based on a cute little statistical analysis I devised myself. (I'm so plucky.) My brother came to the table with a series of chicken-scratch notes on dog-eared paper. I snickered and knew I had him beat. It was also, sweetly, the only year we have ever been able to watch the awards together, since that was the year we were both living in Japan. That was the year that I bit my nails until almost the end of the night, when Denzel Washington took home the Best Actor trophy for playing a bad guy and I finally took down Brother Adjudicator in a round that played out with sweet, sweet eloquence. Ask anyone what category I dread the most, it's Best Actor. If I'm going to get killed, this is the one that kills me every time. So I won that year and I love the serve-and-volley system.
Okay, so the next year I lost again. Royally. Soundly. Thumped. Sure, I used the same numbers system against brother's chicken-scratch, but I blame that loss on Calgary. Stupid Calgary.
And then last year we tied, because I choked on the whole LOTR sweep. I didn't think the sweep was possible, so I over-thought the numbers. Never, never, never overthink the numbers. The numbers DO NOT LIE.
The nominations come out tomorrow and I'll be gushing over them profusely, but I won't be giving away any hints or sources, just in case the powers that be decides to Google me and catch me in my own game. He's going down this year. I have the fire in my belly.
posted by nerdifer at 5:06 p.m.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home