April 2020 .... I thought my hair was long then. |
A year ago, I reported that we were over whatever had afflicted us and ready to venture back out into the world.
We're still ready, but there's still not much to venture out to.
Pointless Observations
The virus, never much fun to talk about, has grown exponentially more grim so, I've decided to talk about the Oscars instead.
Specifically, I've been thinking about old coots and the Oscars.
In 1989, a then 78-year-old Vincent Price, still one year away from his last major role as a mad scientist in Edward Scissor Hands, looked stooped and aged on the red carpet as he arrived to join a bunch of other old farts in what won instant acclaim as the worst Oscars opening number in history.
In 2021, on the other hand, 79-year-old Harrison Ford, one year away from the release of his fifth Indiana Jones movie, bikes in Mexico, flies planes (though they crash from time to time) and thumbs his nose at the notion that age slows you down.
The current title holder for oldest coot still making major movies is Clint Eastwood, whose Cry Macho will be released in October, 2021, after his 91st birthday. Most 91-year-olds don't have film premiere galas to attend; some need help dressing and getting to the toilet.
If I have a point to all this, I guess it's that the new Hollywood doesn't seem to be quite as tough on its denizens as the old Hollywood.
The other point might be that an aging Boomer demographic still holds sway in the movie market. More hearts flutter at the sight of Harrison Ford's leathery, crumbled visage than Timothée Chalamet's dewy face and strangely-shaped head.
Like I said, these are observations of no consequence, but it beats paying attention to what's really going on.
For example, I took this photo on April 13, 2021
And this photo on April 20, 2021.
Thanks for reading!
Cancel those travel plans!
Karen