/ dream of Genie with a gilty pate.
] don't know why: something I ate ?
(Traditional songi
The best one can say about this year's Genie Awards is that they could have been worse. Francis Mankiewicz's Les bans dibarras would be a distin- guished winner in any country in any year. So, for that matter, would be Micheline Lanctofs L'homme a tout faire. We can be grateful that there was
no unseemly rush to reward the lugu- brious Tribute, or the muddle-headed Lucky Star (wherein it is implied that a Jew can achieve heroism by adopting the mythology of the American gun- slinger, much as the supposedly "Cana- dian" film plunges into American genres, images, tones and values for self-fuliillment). Similarly, the indefen- sible Terror Train won nothing though its four technical nominations left it with excessive shreds of respect- ability. Such justice is rare in any awards competition, so we'can be grate- ful for small mercies.
But this relief should not divert us fiiom the essential wrong-headedness of the whole Genie operation. Simply, it is silly to celebrate Canadian film in such a transparently American ritual It recalls that Fernwood Tonite gag where Frank Sinatra Jr. establishes his own fame by singing "My Way" in exact- ly his father's tone and cadence.
This self-disrespectful imitation per- vades the whole show. It is implicit in the organization's name. The Academy of Canadian Cinema. The prize itself is a gold statuette that looks like an eviscer- ated Oscar, standing cross-legged to avoid further violation. So, too, the ironic aptness of its name : the Genie recalls a foreign giant that springs out of a magic lantern to bolster some 97- pound weakling(Aladdin Canuck, boy cineaste.').
The build-up to tfiis year's show reeked of this disrespect for Canadian film. The poster was a vulgar, sexist affront that pretended to be a Muybridge primer for artistic success through the casting couch. The ad run in the cinemas showed more Canadian than last year's but still relied on the lure of Jack Lemmon, Bruce Dem, Ann-Margret, as if they were Canadian stalwarts. Of course, none of the named showed. Hardest to swallow was the ad's closing salute to the audience for being such great supporters of Canadian film. It was enough to make you retch. Or at least, to kvetch.
The Genie show lived down to its promise. Brian Linehan was smooth and engaging enough, and he even braved the danger of wandering from his spot into comic and lyrical routines, but the show as a whole felt like the Oscar-nomination that it was. So we had the tiresome routine of envelopes and
"And the winner is..." The opening
gracious candor ("This is the first thing I Phoney ever won and I appreciate it"), followed by a well-intentioned portrayal of the arrogance and imperiaUsm of Her People. The Canadian crew on Atlantic City, USA was "professional in every way." she allowed, as if this were a matter of surprise or note. Then the poor girl was stuck on camera to announce the two design winners. As both categories were won by the absent Anne Pritchard, Ms. Sarandon accepted the awards she presented. Then she made the best editing presentation. Her prolonged stand poinffed to the paucity of stars on the Genie roster. Moreover, Ms. Seirandon showed all the poise and control of an epileptic ferret At the opposite extreme, Burt Lancaster's patriarchal appearance had dignity and style, but his Leopard and 1900 associations made him embody the American industry's rigid
sibilify of grit was killed in glitz.
As if the imitativeness was not depressing enough, the whole affair evoked a sense of waste, of lost oppor^ tunity. It is ironic that the theatre life of Canadian films is seemingly dependent upon the Awards' showcase, when, in fact, the Americanization of the celebra- tion discourages confidence In that
same product ~^^
Will The Handyman [L'homme a
tout faire) play across English Canada even though it didn't win any of the biggies ? Win Tom Peacocke's best actor award resurrect The Hounds of Notre Dame (before its American title-change
to 'Puppies of the Prairie Priest) ? Does anyone out there care ?
While the stars and asterisks gathered onstage for their (Oscarstyle) cham- pagne party, the Canadian film-fan had to feel a little flat. For like Canada itself, why should its film industry be sustained if it Is only a pale copy, of the American ? What should have been a celebration that promoted the Canadian in film became a squeaky pretense at being American. As far as Canadian content was concerned, the only subject dis- cussed with ardor was the background (and fore) of Trudeau's date (Kim Cattrall the lusty lack-lustre vaculfy from Tribute). Otherwise there was no challenge to the show's assumption that Canada's maturity and vyorth lie in how American It acts. •
Maurice Yacowar teachesfilm at Brock University, St Catherines, Onfah'c^ where he is also Dean of Humanities. He reviewsfilm on CBC-FXTS "Stereo Morning', and his new booK Method in Madness: The Comic An ofMel Brooks, m'/fbepufafisfiedt/ite
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