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Godfather / Chloe

"Godfather" Nerd Trivia!

-Al Pacino was enraged that he was Oscar-nominated in the "Best Supporting Actor" category for "Godfather I." He was enraged because he actually had more screen time than Brando (who *won* Best Lead Actor, for playing Vito). The producers didn't want Brando; they wanted Ernest Borgnine or George C. Scott. Pacino's performance in "Godfather II" is considered among the greatest of all time; he *was* nominated for Best Lead Actor then; he lost, and lost to a shmoe. This bit ranks high among Greatest Oscar Travesties. Here are all the other actors from "Godfather" films who earned Oscar nominations: DeNiro (who actually won), Talia Shire, James Caan, Robert Duvall, Lee Strasberg, Andy Garcia, and Michael Gazzo.

-Pacino's eventual Oscar win (for "Scent of a Woman") is considered a "mea culpa" award, not really an award for specific excellence in "Scent of a Woman." (The same goes for Jeremy Irons, in "Reversal of Fortune.") Coppola emphatically wanted Michael to look like "the Sicilian son," whereas Sonny would look more like "the American son." Coppola discovered Pacino via Broadway, or off-Broadway, and Pacino took a cool-headed approach to his producers' lack of faith. "Mr. Coppola," he said, "if they don't want me, they don't want me. That's A-OK." But Mr. Coppola prevailed.

-Diane Keaton was cast because of her reputation for "eccentricity." (Strange, if you ask me, because, at least in "Godfather I," Kay is anything but eccentric.) There was meant to be a large role for Clemenza in the second "Godfather," but the actor was making unreasonable demands, and so a new character was invented. (And thus Michael Gazzo found himself in possession of an Oscar nomination.) "An offer he couldn't refuse" ranks--on an actual list--as number two among "Greatest Hollywood Quotations." (I imagine number one comes from "Casablanca.") 

-Caan and Brando were meant to come back for one scene in the sequel; Caan asked for too much money, and Brando just didn't bother to show up. (Male egos!) The scene was quickly rewritten--on the spot--so that Vito was left out. Brando--like George C. Scott--turned down his Oscar, or *sort of* turned it down. (Someone claimed it for him, with a buzz-generating speech.) The guy who defeated Al Pacino in the year of "Godfather II" wasn't--like--Jack Nicholson, or someone of that stature. It really was a travesty; look it up. Many critics felt the second "Godfather" didn't live up to the first; the flashbacks seemed to create a sense of choppiness, to butcher the attempt at generating momentum. Then these critics decided they were wrong. Lin-Manuel Miranda says: "Perhaps today is the day you will discover your passion!" Clearly--and unfortunately--mine is for random Oscar trivia!

***

A trend among gay writers: To celebrate an item while--simultaneously--mocking it. To find a pocket of popular culture and mine, mine, mine that area in ways no other writer would dream of. Do you remember the bizarre segment in the (generally bizarre) film "La La Land," where Emma Stone writes a one-woman play and everyone hates it, but one wealthy backer decides it's enough to launch Emma Stone's entire starry Hollywood career? There's a gay writer somewhere who grew up in foster homes. His parents had met in an insane asylum. Everyone was telling him he needed to write about his childhood but, he said, "That's too sad! Why would I want to write about that?" So instead he imagined himself into Emma Stone's character, and he wrote that (non-existent) one-woman show. And he appears in drag every night--as Emma Stone--and performs that show. And it's universally loved; Ms. Stone's mother has attended. (Another gay writer learned that Barbra Streisand has her own private shopping mall in her Malibu basement, and so he imagined how it would feel to be the sole employee of that mall. Thus: "Buyer and Cellar." A triumph.)

"How would I like people to remember me?" asked the Emma Stone writer. "In possession of thirty pounds more muscle, and with the dance moves of Michael Jackson." Meanwhile, elsewhere, a gay acquaintance of mine wrote a long, breathless account of Meryl Streep's early years--*just* her early years--called "Her Again." And then there's Andy Cohen's gossipy book, "Superficial," which wears its superficial heart on its sleeve.

My favorite "celebrate it/mock it" gay pop culture phenomenon is the YouTube series "Choe," by Drew Droege. I don't know who this Droege person is. Basically, he is in love with Chloe Sevigny. He believes--as we all do--that Ms. Sevigny is a space alien, who speaks a language unfamiliar to everyone else on the planet. (Ms. Sevigny lives in my neighborhood; I saw her twice; both times, she was magnificent and scowling.) Droege uses his character--"Chloe"--to practice the time-honored tradition of defamiliarization, wherein you make the world new again by describing it from the p.o.v. of an ant, a horse, a Martian, anyone slightly odd or marginal. An ant does not see a sugar crystal; he sees a fortress. A Martian does not see a breakfast table; he sees a command station. Defamiliarization leads to enchantment.

How might Chloe Sevigny feel about toast? She might add a crazy umlaut. She might tell you an aside about the day she discovered toast, at a Memorial for Ideas, sponsored by Acura and Gogurt Squirts. She might suggest that--while you wait you for your toast--you find Charlotte Rampling and launch a discussion of Fassbender and irony. She might warn you of the dangers of spilling cardamom butter on your ironic coin skort. Because Droege has such a fabulous idea, he wrings drama just from the idea of eating and preparing toast. That's all that happens in the clip: The bread is procured, the bread is heated, the bread is consumed. But--in the space of that simple procedure--we get digressions about Gaby Hoffmann, half-boots, and "Tinsley Mortimer and her plus-one."

These two minutes are enough inspiration to power me through a workday. Watch. Dance. Watch. Dance!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NoVbnv01Qek

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