You know how, once upon a time, you were mad and wanted to write a letter? And someone who liked you said you should,
like, not mail it for 24 hours? Well, it seems nobody ever told that to Annie Proulx. In a piece for The
Guardian, Proulx -- the author of the short story "Brokeback Mountain" -- shares her recollections of Oscar
night in a piece that's scathing,
coarse and wrathful, not the usual 'honor to be nominated' platitudes.
Proulx's honesty is refreshing, and a little scary -- and at the same time, it's worth noting that the piece didn't run in a U.S. paper. Already stirring up discussion over at The Hot Button, Proulx's rant may -- just may -- be the worst case of sour grapes captured in ink (and she admits as such). I can't think of the last time a person associated with a film lashed out like this -- but, with academic and financial acclaim, I also can't think of what, if anything, Proulx has to lose. (And read The Rocchi Report for more on the Crash-vs-Brokeback fight ... and how it's bad news for everyone involved.)




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