It took years and years of rehab at a nice L.A. location that has really good coffee and an on-the-premises massage therapist named Chloe. I had to learn to walk again and form sentences and how to trust and smile because man was I messed up. I mean can you blame me? Kevin Frickin' Costner who mowed down a field of corn to build a baseball field pulled down the trophy of trophies for Dances With Wolves. And there sat Marty, I'm sure flipping off every academy voter from behind his lush red chair trying to grin and bear it. And can you blame him? How can you not mention Goodfellas and masterpiece in the same sentence. And who the hell wants to get into a discussion longer than 3 seconds about Dances With Wolves.
So here we are some 16 years later and I am somewhat back to normal, but that wound has still never healed. It has re-opened a couple of times. Like when James Cameron won for Best Director. But I am much better now, thank you.
So you would think that since there seems to be no doubt that Scorsese will walk away with Best Director come Sunday, the wound would heal once and for all. Not true. Why? Because it's a gimme. It's a make-up for past wrongs. Scorsese doesn't deserve it for The Departed like he deserved it for Goodfellas. Not even close. The stars were aligned for Goodfellas and the Academy missed it. They fucked up. The Oscar will look pristine and shiny when Scorsese holds it, but it will be damaged goods. And that still hurts.