Lest we need yet another reminder that Frances McDormand is a real one, TMZ is reporting that she’s the one responsible for allowing Terry Bryant, the man who stole her 2018 Best Actress Oscar for Three Billboards right out from under her nose, to get off with the crime scot-free. A judge dismissed the case against Terry because Frances refused to cooperate with the police. And if you’ve seen the footage of Terry that he posted after the crime celebrating his “victory”, you’ll see why Frances was probably inclined to just go ahead and let Terry, a black gentleman of a certain age, continue to live his best Sidney Poitier They Call Me Mr. Tibbs fantasy in peace. She probably considers this small act of mercy a way of satisfying a clause in her inclusion rider.
Last night, the Academy did what everyone knew they were going to do and gave Frances McDormand the award for Best Actress for her performance in Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri. And Frances McDormand delivered what we all expected of her: the outfit equivalent of cranking back a La-Z-Boy in the den, and a frantic acceptance speech free of fucks.
Like she has this entire awards season, Frances McDormand won another Best Actress doorstop last night at the Independent Spirit Awards for playing a fuck-free vengeful mom in the word problematic’s favorite movie of the year Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri. Frances became one of my favorite fashion icons in 2011 when she dressed like an assistant manager at the Gap to the Tonys, and she continued to be the fashion legend that she is at the Independent Spirit Awards by wearing what I’m going to wear while watching the Oscars tonight: pajamas, slippers and “I’ve been in bed for two days and haven’t even looked at a brush” hair . Although, since I’m much more formal than Frances, I’m going to accessorize my pajamas with a stunning Fritos crumbs necklace, a nacho cheese stain brooch and red wine stained lips.
The Independent Spirit Awards are a zillion times shorter than the Oscars (which will end by Tuesday morning if we’re lucky), so my guess is that Frances is going to show up tonight in a pillow strapped to the back of her head and a stunning bed comforter gown (like this). Frances’ pjs and slippers ensemble (which let’s be real, look fancy and probably cost more than my entire wardrobe combined) wasn’t the only good thing she brought to the Spirit Awards. Frances also brought a perfect speech where she gave a shout out to Hot Dog on a Stick, cursed a lot and paid homage to the beautiful poetry of the fuck word.
Frances is probably going to win another Oscar tonight, so I hope she keeps the fingers of the censors busy by give another ode to the poetic fuck word. Or maybe she’ll hand her award over to Saoirse Ronan or Margot Robbie, and not only because of what she said at the SAGs about how the youngins should get some awards too. But also because she’ll be too comfortable in her comforter gown and pillow headdress to get up.
He looks like if Damien from The Omen got a job at Jiffy Lube. That’s current Hollywood slobber object Timothee Chalamat holding his statue for Best Male Lead for his part as a teenage twink in love with a much older dude in Call Me By Your Name. The Independent Spirit Awards were held yesterday. Variety reports that Jordan Peele’s “white people really ARE evil!” horror/comedy/satire Get Out won for Best Feature and Best Director, and honestly, why is Timothee dressed like a gas station attendant? Surely choosing an outfit for these things isn’t that much of a stressor that you say “eff it” and go with coveralls?
Frances McDormand is an enigma wrapped in a riddle wrapped in comfortable clothing and scented with Ivory soap. She also gets lots of awards (she’s a G away from that EGOT), but may be getting tired of winning awards over the youngins’.
Just when I was about to declare Christie Brinkley my personal goddess of the Tony Awards for showing up looking and posing like a Drop Dead Gorgeous extra, Frances McDormand took to the stage to accept her award for Best Actress in a Play while wearing an ensemble that is slightly dressier than the ripped sweat shorts I’m wearing right now.
If you needed fucks to get into the Tonys last night, I’m not sure Frances would’ve gotten in, because she obviously didn’t have any to give. Frances also saved reporters from asking her the stupid question “Who are you wearing?“, because the red tag on her jean jacket already gave up that information. The look of the night. This is what your high school poli sci teacher would look like if you ran into her at the car wash on the weekend. Hair that couldn’t even pick out a hairbrush from a line-up of hairbrushes.
And if wearing your mom’s favorite beach outfit to a fancy awards show wasn’t enough for me to fall in love with Frances all over again, she busted out her best mug shot poses backstage. If there isn’t such thing as a “Best Dressed of the Tonys” list, then there needs to be so Frances can sit on top of that shit where she belongs.
Here’s a few more pictures from last night’s Book of Mormon Appreciation Ceremony. In order: my new style icon, DanRad, Professor Whoopi McGonagall, Judith Light, Christie Brinkley, PATSY STONE!!!, Alec Baldwin with guest, Tyne Daly with her piece, Al Pacino with guest and Ellen Barkin.