The distribution of Golden Globes last night can only mean one thing: Movie awards season has officially begun.
Over the next month and a half, countless ingénues will start Master Cleanses while Tinseltown's elder statesmen (and women) will suddenly slink off to an unnamed resort for a few weeks, only to emerge looking incredibly "well-rested" and, shall we say, a little tighter around the eyes.
For the rest of us, it means there's only a little over a month to get up-to-speed for Academy Awards parties. (Kate Winslet was not telling bedtime stories in The Reader, and Milk is not a documentary about cows). Wouldn't it actually be great if this year we could talk about the performances and the films, instead what (and who) everyone is wearing?
Many of the winning films are playing at the three Ritz theater locations in Old City (Slumdog Millionaire, Revolutionary Road, The Reader, The Wrestler) which makes theater-hopping a breeze. So when Oscar rears his head at the end of February, you'll actually be able to pass judgment on the winners with conviction.
