Zoe vs. the Oscars, 2016

The Oscars air on Sunday, so you know what that means. Time for my third annual roundup of the movies nominated for best picture. As usual I saw none of them. And yet somehow, as usual, each one has astonishing parallels to my life with Zoe.

Actually, I lied. I saw one, but missed the beginning. See if you can guess which.

Now, speaking of beginnings, let's.

Brooklyn. Okay, this one's easy. We live in Brooklyn. Bam: Parallel! Okay, so maybe the decade is wrong, but even so the story could easily be that of one set of her grandparents. Astonishing!

The Martian. Mars is closer than you think to Brooklyn when you have a five-year-old who decides one day to only speak in what she claims is Martian. Even though there are no real martians. Unless you count Matt Damon. How long do you have to live on Mars before you qualify for citizenship? Anyway, for this one I at least read the book. So, story of survival: check. Accidents that you can't believe don't kill or maim you: check. Math no one understands (common core): check. Main character subsists on potatoes (french fries, mainly): check. A long time between showers: check.

Bridge of Spies. Features a beloved star. Features tense negotiations that can explode into global, or at least bodily, violence at any moment. A prisoner exchange is not unknown to happen.

In a deal brokered by Jesus, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Lion-Batman,
the U.S. trades Boba Fett to the Russians for the safe
return of Elmo. (Based on true events.)

Spotlight. The subject matter of this one doesn't really lend itself to a humor blog about a five-year-old, so I'll just say that this film's depiction of journalism could also depict motherhood: that is, doing a job with little fanfare and less romanticism. Getting it done with little thanks except maybe the satisfaction of doing the right thing.

The Revenant. Like The Martian, this movie is about an individual's struggle for survival. I'm going to just put it out there that wrestling a bear and getting Zoe in her pajamas is the Exact Same Thing. Tell me I'm wrong. Each night, bedtime is a brutal losing battle against a force of nature. Sometimes I sooth myself with revenge fantasies of when she's a teenager. It's primal. And no one showers.

When Pooh attacks. Double meaning totally intended.

The Big Short. Zoe's short in stature but big in personality.  She's also given to hedonism, seldom plans ahead, and enjoys building top-heavy structures that can never support their weight and are destined to fall, screw innocent bystanders.

Elmo should've never taken out that sub-prime mortgage.

The Room. I'm too close to this one. I didn't read the book or see the movie. Just . . . wait a minute, let me see where she is. . . . Okay, she's in her room. So, people who've seen the movie, is it true she finally gets out of that room and away from that kid when he's five? So there's a possible end to my captivity? . . . . Shhh, I think she's coming. . . . As I was saying, computer screen, five is just the best age, amirite?

Mad Max: Fury Road. Since I know the suspense is killing you, this is the one I saw but missed the beginning. I was not lost. As for parallels, I'm thinking of one car trip in particular when Zoe was three, and she cried the whole way home until she made herself vomit. In addition, I've been to enough small children's birthday parties to know they're not too far off from George Miller's apocalyptic vision, where raggedly dressed sweaty-looking people chase, and commit violence on, one another, perform ill-advised stunts, and drinks things they probably shouldn't. And, oh yeah, absolutely no one showers.

This is pretty accurate.

Zoe: 127; Universe: 0

For more of Zoe's hijinks, follow me on Facebook and on Twitter at @zoevsuniverse. 

I need a win here, people. 

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