Well fuck.
The only fraud bigger than the one Wall Street perpetrated against the American public prior to the 2008 housing crisis, is the one The Big Short -- which "smartly" depicts that shameful recent chapter of history -- is pulling over on Hollywood as we speak.
And yet there it stands, as our new Best Picture frontrunner by "virtue" of having won the Producers Guild of America's top prize late last night in Los Angeles. Anyone who claims to have seen this coming is being a revisionist historian. Under no circumstance did this film -- as abrasive, impenetrable and, at its worst, condescending a comedy as you'll likely see -- have the qualities of a consensus pick. It's victory here, and its now inevitable victory at the Oscars, will baffle me for years to come.
To be fair, the film is bold and loaded with creative risks, and normally, for such a daring project to sufficiently impress enough of the entertainment industry to land major awards should be cause for celebration. The fact that they've allowed themselves to be duped by creative risks that largely don't work, however, is enough to make this an awards season worth forgetting, as if there wasn't enough disappointment for that already. The Academy and I rarely agree 100% on the best picture of the year, but you'd have to go back to 1989 (Driving Miss Daisy) to find a winner that I thought was the worst option, and that was in the days of only five nominees.
The other two PGA movie prizes also went to upcoming Oscar winners Inside Out and Amy, worthy if unsurprising picks. But they hardly mask the unpleasant taste this new development of the season has left in my mouth. Does this mean Adam McKay can snipe the top prize from the DGA? Or, worse yet, the SAG Ensemble which has rightly been Spotlight's to lose from the beginning. Something tells me that this season can't end soon enough.