Honestly I don’t think it deserves “Best Picture”. The first half an hour, which was full of nudity, sex scenes, drugs, loud music, glamorous lifestyle etc really bored me. It was Pretty Woman all over again without the tuxedos and ball gowns. For the first time in years, I couldn’t help but took out my phone to check the time in a movie theatre. Only until the fights and arguments that came later on did I realise overdoing things and messing around might actually be the style of Oscar Best Director Sean Baker. It wasn’t the best use of my time watching some clumsy guys running around trying so hard to get the marriage of two idiots annulled. It might feel good for a second seeing the rich and powerful get fucked but it sure wasn’t impressive enough for me to call it the Best Picture of the year. Why the movie wins an Oscar is another story. What The Academy honour and celebrate is actually what they think the society in need of. When you think of the experts and influencer problematising how little sex the American youths are having, it makes more sense. Somehow, it is not a movie that honours sex workers but one that celebrates the act of having sex itself. One critics writes, it tells what it feels like to be alive in our time. I wonder what it means. Most of us sell ourselves for embarrassingly little money, dreaming to win the lottery one day. We want to believe in love and justice before we are let down by the world again and again. We morph from being too scared to love into giving it up all together. I don’t get it from the movie, but people who write about it. Critics exist for a reason.
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