Even if you only remotely follow Hollywood’s awards season, you know that the Razzies are the anti-Oscars. Now in its 32nd year, the Razzies dis-honor the year’s worst films and performances with a tacky little homemade-seeming trophy topped with a golden raspberry.
But the differences, as I found out last night when I covered movie’s smallest night, do not end there. Oh no, all awards ceremonies are not created equal, I assure you. I’m not sure what should have been my first clue — the new April Fool’s Day observance date, the parking in a public lot followed by an elevator ride that smelled of human waste, the lack of a red carpet, or the line of guests dressed in jeans, T-shirts and flip-flops.
Or maybe it should have been the venue. Magicopolis is no Kodak or The Shrine. It’s a Santa Monica magic shop with a theater that often hosts juvenile birthday parties and shows that include pulling coins from ears. READ FULL STORY