Nikki Finke recently broke the news (accompanied by one of her always classy and humble ‘TOLDJA!’ headlines, of course), that Adam Shankman and Bill Mechanic would be producing the next Oscars telecast. Nikki writes:
I consider it a good choice that bodes well for AMPAS new president Tom Sherak. Both Adam Shankman and Bill Mechanic are experienced movie people, and Shankman has the added benefit of current TV experience.
Is this bitch serious? Let’s do a run through of the movies Adam Shankman directed and their accompanying rank on RottenTomatoes, shall we?
– The Wedding Planner, 16%
– A Walk to Remember, 27%
– Bringing Down the House, 34% (34%? Really?)
– The Pacifier, 21%
– Cheaper By the Dozen 2, 7%
– Hairspray, 91%
– Bedtime Stories, 24%
The one success is Hairspray, which was based on an already-successful play, which was in turn based on a cult-classic John Waters movie. And having seen the horrific nightmare fuel that is John Travolta in drag, I still wouldn’t watch that flick unless I got kidnapped by the Saw guy and it was either that or gouge out a testicle and eat it. Oh, but he does have non-directorial credits, what were those again?
Adam Shankman is the multitalented film director, producer, dancer, actor and choreographer. He has been a judge on the Fox TV program So You Think You Can Dance since Season 3. He began his professional career in musical theatre, and was a dancer in music videos for Paula Abdul and Janet Jackson. Shankman also choreographed one of the Spice Girls’ tours.
Oh right. He broke down in tears on a reality show dance competition and choreographed a Spice Girls tour (probably not even one of the good ones). My mistake, he’s totally qualified. Point being, this guy is the personification of Kevin Smith’s statement “people in Hollywood have a way of failing upwards.” By all accounts he’s a nice guy, but let’s not kid ourselves. All I’m saying is, when me and my boys get home from a long day of installing drywall and touch football, we want to head out for wings and watch the Oscars, not some fruity circle jerk.