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• A word on the most idiotic film awards

  February 8, 2011 @ 10:42 pm | by Donald Clarke

  No, I’m not talking about the Oscars. Is there any institution less mirthsome than The Golden Raspberry Awards? Don’t get me wrong. I bow to nobody in my enthusiasm for turning wretched films into metaphorical peñatas. But the Razzies are just so deadeningly obvious. Year after year, they ignore genuinely abysmal performances and movies in favour of obvious star-laden minor misfires and — a favourite target — only modestly incompetent turns by pop stars. If you want to win one of these things just make sure to get Madonna’s agent on the phone good and early. In short, they are far more in thrall to celebrity than the Oscars.

  

  L ro R: Man, man, good egg, John J B Wilson.

  Instituted back in 1980 by John J B Wilson, by all accounts a charming fellow, the worst picture has, in previous years, gone to such films as Mommie Dearest (a camp classic), Rambo: First Blood II (oh, come on!), Indecent Proposal (so original), Showgirls (see Mommie Dearest), Swept Away (ha ha! Madonna) and Catwoman (see Mommie Dearest).

  The lowest moment for the Awards came, by many people’s reckoning, in that first session, when they nominated Stanley Kubrick as worst director for The Shining. Actually, I think this was one of their better choices. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t agree with the selection. Indeed, that Stephen King adaptation is one of my favourite films. But, in this instance, they, at least, showed a degree of original thinking. (Only a degree, mind. Remember that The Shining actually opened to mixed reviews.)

  Having made my feelings on the awards clear, I would have to admit that my answer to the big question — should nominees turn up to accept the award? — sounds slightly contrary.  Of course you should. Awarding worst actress to Sandra Bullock last year for All About Steve was clearly a stunt. By that stage, it seemed clear that she was going to win the Oscar for The Blind Side. Nonetheless, for all the silliness of the Razzies, you do look like a good egg if you slope along and deliver a few quips. The most notable performance was that by Paul Verhoeven in 1995. The Dutch eccentric seemed genuinely delighted to triumph for Showgirls.

  At any rate, this year, in a deliberate attempt to stir up fury on the internet (a perfectly honorable aim in itself), the organisers have handed out a staggering nine nominations to The Twilight Saga: Eclipse. Angry teenage boys will be delighted. Other multi-nomimated films include Vampires Suck, The Last Airbender and Sex and the City 2. Hey, even I think that last inclusion is too darn obvious.

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• Where the heck is True Grit?

  February 6, 2011 @ 9:07 pm | by Donald Clarke

  

  Well, it’s on its way. Later this week, nearly two months after it emerged in the United States, the Coen brothers’ excellent western finds its way into British and Irish cinemas. Intelligent cinemagoers will rejoice. Having stumbled a little at the start of the last decade — remember Intolerable Cruelty and The Ladykillers — the Coens defied expectations by returning with three near-masterpieces (No Country For Old Men, A Serious Man and, now, True Grit) and one hugely enjoyable romp (Burn After Reading).

  The average film fan in these territories will, however, reasonably wonder why it has taken so long for True Grit to emerge. This sort of thing doesn’t happen much any more.

  Back in the 1970s and 1980s a whole series of insulting hierarchies governed release strategies for American films. The most tortuous pattern went like this. Firstly, the distinguished burghers of New York and Los Angeles would get to see the film. If it was a hit then the picture would gradually expand to other American cities. Then, a few weeks after that, prints might sneak into provincial corners of the US. A gap of many months would set in. Eventually, after the prints were gathered back from Tuna Fish, Iowa and Bottle Top, Wyoming, they would be polished up in preparation for the Rest-of-World release. (A sobering example: Star Wars was released in the US during May 1977, but didn’t arrive in the UK until late December.)

  So, now, finally, the citizen of Birmingham or Ballybrophy would get to see this exciting release? Hold on to your, horses. The film could still spends weeks playing solely in London’s Leicester Square before moving out to remoter parts of the UK and — Jesus, do I still want to see this bleeding thing? — poor old Ireland.

  The pattern above details the most cautious strategy, but it was far from uncommon for an Irish filmgoer to finally encounter a film close to a year after its US release. Several innovations changed this practice. Firstly, the success of Jaws’ US-wide release proved the virtues of making the initial launch a major national event. The arrival of video — and threats of piracy — furthered inclinations towards narrowing the gap between limited and wide release. Now, with downloading gaining epidemic status, the worldwide “day and date” release has become commonplace.

  It should be said that the old system had its virtues. More eccentric films had the chance to grow via word of mouth. Now, a widely released movie stands or falls on its opening weekend. Happily, smaller, independent movies, unleashed initially on smallish print runs, do still profit from this dynamic. It’s hardly fair to expect the distributors of My Camel is No Longer at the Yam Yam Tree to get a print into every country on the day of release. But there is little excuse for a major studio — Paramount, in this case — to delay the release of a much anticipated picture by two months.

  So, what’s going on? Well, firstly, we have the business of Oscar season. All those films that look like Oscar-bait are rushed into US cinemas before New Years Day in order to qualify for the awards. On occasion, the studio will sneak just one print into an LA cinema. The proper release must wait until the New Year. Hence, Black Swan, The King’s Speech and The Fighter all opened here in January and early February.

  True Grit was, however, knocked back another few weeks because the studio accepted an offer to have the film open the looming Berlin Film Festival. This is all a bit mad. Berlin now opens with a picture that, far from being a premiere, has been seen by hundreds of thousands of people in the US. Meanwhile, in order to allow the Germans a bit of red-carpet action, Paramount has denied an entire continent the right to see the film for an indecently lengthy period.

  Good grief. Imagine if, after all that, the film turned out to be a turkey. Happily, it is worth the wait.

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• Quiz Correction and top Pop Trivia Question

  February 4, 2011 @ 7:22 pm | by Donald Clarke

  

  As several of you have pointed out, there is an appalling howler in this week’s quiz. The seventh question runs as follows: What’s missing: Spanking the Monkey, Requiem for a Dream, The Damned United, Alien 3? As you may not have solved it, I won’t give you the answer, but Requiem for a Dream should, of course, be replaced by ∏ (or “Pi” if you have an inflexible keyboard). Gosh, this sounds like a correction to a mathematics exam rather than a movie trivia quiz. At any rate, the correction probably constitutes a clue in itself.

  As compensation, I offer you a pop trivia question. There is no generous cash prize — but a round of applause — for anyone who gets the correct answer. Annoyingly, despite being quite obscure, the solution does appear to be available via Google. So, I am trusting you not to use that service (or any similar search engine).

  What connects the following albums: World Shut Your Mouth by Julian Cope, Almost Blue by Elvis Costello, Houses of the Holy by Led Zeppelin, Born Sandy Devotional by The Triffids and Sheer Heart Attack by Queen?

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• We Want Sex

  February 2, 2011 @ 9:00 pm | by Donald Clarke

  That’s got your attention. Hasn’t it? Hang on. I hope that header doesn’t attract lunatic amounts of Spam. Anyway, the subject under discussion is the bizarre retitling of Anglophone pictures when overseas. It seems as if Made in Dagenham, the passable British comedy about car strikes in East London, is, indeed, being marketed under the title We Want Sex in Italy and Germany.

  

  You thought I was making it up.

  The phrase does, it is true, appear in Nigel Cole’s flick. The worst joke in the piece finds the strikers, female workers at Dagenham Ford, unveiling a banner with the words “We Want Sexual Equality”. Unfortunately, they only unravel it as far as the “x”. Barbara Castle, Labour’s formidable Employment secretary, peers out the window and, after executing a Three-Stooges double take, says: “Don’t we all, darling.” (Or words to that effect.) Ha ha ha! That’s so bloody funny.

  Anyway, the good burghers of Frankfurt and Milan are surely in for a shock. I don’t know about you. But, if I go to a film called “We Want Sex”, I don’t expect to encounter a study of events leading up to the formation of the Equal Pay Act. Particularly when the poster features little else but ladies in skimpy dresses.

  In all seriousness, you have to question the sanity of the European distributors. Aside from anything else, few genres have a more unlovely reputation than the British sex comedy. Perhaps Robin Askwith remains a sort of cult hero in Germany. Anything is possible. Perhaps the Teutonic version of Quentin Tarantino is, as we speak, organising a retrospective of Mary Millington pictures. Urgh! It’s a chilling thought. It seems, however, more likely that such a title will scare punters away.

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• Farewell then John Barry

  January 31, 2011 @ 10:08 pm | by Donald Clarke

  

  The urge to hum “The James Bond Theme” is almost irresistible. Dum dee dum dum, dum dum dum. Dum dee dum dum, dum dum dum. DAH DAH! DAH DOO DAH! But, of course, John Barry did not actually write that iconic piece of music.  The tune was credited to Monty Norman. Barry was officially the arranger. When queried on the matter, Barry would, however, make savage rumbling noises. Norman twice sued newspapers that claimed John was indeed the composer. Mr Norman won on both occasions. So, lest we further accelerate the death of print journalism, let’s be very clear on this matter. John Barry did not write The James Bond Theme. I trust no ambiguity remains.

  At any rate, Barry, who has died at the age of 77, was one of the most distinctive cinema composers of all time. His lush chords and slinky arrangements were unmistakable. The music for the early Bond films is unbeatable. But don’t forget the cool metallic theme to The Ipcress File and (see above, nostalgia fans) the opening tune to The Persuaders. If I had to name a favourite Barry piece it would, however, be one to a film I don’t much fancy. Dances With Wolves is, from a number of perspectives, a very questionable piece of work. The music’s bleeding great though. Daa daa doo daa. Daa doo daa daa doo daa. And so forth.

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• A last word on sequels.

  January 30, 2011 @ 10:01 pm | by Donald Clarke

  There’s nothing more tedious than newspaper articles whinging about the ubiquity of sequels. Yeah, yeah, yeah. We get it. Back in the old days, sequels were outlawed by the witchfinders and every film sprung fresh and new from Mrs Hollywood’s blameless loins. It’s like complaining about the weather or moaning about public transport. Nothing ever changes. “Lo! Yonder Shakespeare hath sold us a spoilt-fotheringay with this most latest of his plays,” they used to say. “Henry IV Part 2 indeed! Curse me for a harlet’s draining pot if he hath not run to false, weary coxcombs. You wouldn’t have seen that in Marlowe’s day.” And so on.

  

  I know how you feel, Cap’n.

  It is, however, hard to avoid the suspicion that sequel addiction really has got totally out of hand. A recent piece in Box-Office Mojo comes up with the staggering statistic that a full fifth of next year’s nationwide (US that is) releases are set to be sequels. The site goes on to point out that a record number of part fours — five, as it happens — will be unleashed on the lucky public. The latter category includes such unpromising ventures as Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides and Spy Kids 4: All the Time in the World. This does not even take into account the low-rent sequels emerging in limited release and on DVD.

  I have nothing much new to say on the issue. The success of Inception and Avatar would, you’d think, have persuaded Hollywood that original scripts can deliver serious returns. Recessions do, however, tend to make executives nervy and the apparent return to the poisoned well was, thus, greatly to be expected. Also, the business moves slowly and the Avatar effect may take a year to properly kick in. At any rate, it looks as if the cinematic summer might be flavoured by lashings of weary deja vu. It makes you feel like climbing in your dinghy and making for a remote island.

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• The Sequel Map

  January 27, 2011 @ 10:13 pm | by Donald Clarke

  

  Here’s something to while away the hours. The busy people at Box Office Quant have found time to draw up a map — more accurately a Cartesian graph — that examines the merits of a sequel relative to the original picture. The x coordinate is the rating of the first film on Rotten Tomatoes. The y coordinate is the rating of the follow-up. Thus any sequel lying above the line defined by x=y is better than its predecessor. It hardly needs to be said that the vast majority of films cluster in the lower reaches. Quite a few pictures do, however, land in the heavens.

  I can’t much argue with the fact that Star Trek: Wrath of Khan is judged the sequel that most successfully upstages the opening salvo in its franchise. Star Trek: The Motion Picture really was a great big bore: a feeble attempt to meld 2001 with Star Wars without passing through Star Trek on the way. It’s a little more surprising to meet Mr Bean’s Holiday and Pokemon 2000 above the line, but those films were, I suppose, building on very shaky foundations. I am delighted to encounter Final Destination 2 in the upper reaches. Now, that’s a film and a half. An uproarious combination of Heath Robinson and Mousetrap (the board game, I mean), FD2 is one of the very great horror comedies.

  What’s missing? Well, Bride of Frankenstein, of course. After all, the James Whale sequel (another horror comedy, interestingly) is the greatest film  of all time. I guess Rotten Tomatoes ratings aren’t available for those ancient classics.

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• Screenwriter gets the Oscars 100 percent correct.

  January 25, 2011 @ 6:19 pm | by Donald Clarke

  I would not be human if I did not crow a little. Yesterday, this “blog” offered predictions for Oscar nominations in the best picture, best director, best actor and best actress races. How did we do? 25 out of 25. That’s how. Last year’s 23 out of 25 wasn’t bad, but, at this rate, Screenwriter will soon be elevated to the status of mystic sage.

  

  Get it?

  Okay, by my own admission, many of the races seemed comfortably sewn up ages ago. But we did stick out necks out in a few places. Most pundits thought that Christopher Nolan would sneak in ahead of the Coens in the director category. Javier Bardem was a mild outsider in the best actor competition. At any rate, you will look far and wide before finding any internet pundit who has done quite so well. Crow, crow, crow.

  Okay, I must reluctantly admit that, in a previous post, I got things totally wrong as regards the best foreign language picture. Live Above All, my sure-fire pick for winner, didn’t even make the final five. Equally surprisingly, the excellent Dogtooth, which I thought too worrying for that electorate, did appear on the short list. For the first time in living memory, we tip our hats to the voters in that category.

  To be fair, if you look down the list, you will find that the Academy did make some admirable choices. Everyone knew that Toy Story 3 and How to Train Your Dragon would (deservedly) make it into the best animated feature shortlist, but few of us dared to hope that The Illusionist would take the third place. Yet there it is. Bravo!

  Banksy’s brilliant Exit Through the Gift Shop looked a bit off-beam — not to mention English — to secure a position in the best documentary showdown. They surprised us there as well. There’s hope for the creaky old Oscars yet.

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• Those final Oscar predictions

  January 24, 2011 @ 12:18 am | by Donald Clarke

  The Oscars nominations are due on Tuesday afternoon and the bickering over what’s in and what’s out is intense.

  Actually, it isn’t. Unlike last year, Oscar speculation has been sparse in this place during the current season. There are two reasons for this. Firstly, the pondering seemed to drive everyone crazy last time round. Secondly, in the best picture race, the final 10 appears to have been sewn up for about three months. Back at the start of November, I listed my predictions for the main race and — one hilarious satirical inclusion aside — all those favourites remain firmly in place.

  

  Erm? I don’t think so, ladies.

  Here is my reading of the tealeaves. The films are listed in order of likely inclusion. I would guess that the top five will all get best director nominations and can, thus, be regarded as the real best picture nominees.

  1. THE SOCIAL NETWORK

  Last night Fincher’s film finally failed to win one of the big gongs. The King’s Speech triumphed at the Producers Guild jamboree, but the Facebook film has won everywhere else.

  2. THE KING’S SPEECH

  It’s such an obvious Oscar film: heritage, disability, true stories. But maybe it’s too obvious an Oscar film. The decrepit academy probably feels that, by voting for the 48-year-old David Fincher, they are getting down with the young people.

  3. TRUE GRIT

  But it wasn’t even nominated for a Golden Globe. Ignore that. The Globes and the Oscars rarely agree on best picture. Once a rank outsider, the Coens’ cracking western has gained credibility by registering impressive box-office returns.

  4. THE FIGHTER

  An old-school, rags-to-riches story, David O Russell’s boxing picture ticks virtually all of the Oscar’s familiar boxes. It’s also a lot of fun.

  5. BLACK SWAN

  The ballet picture has already accumulated a devoted following — indeed, it might, bizarrely, end up being Fox’s biggest 2010 release in the US — but it could be a little too scary for the frail Oscar voters.

  6. INCEPTION

  See? We do like mainstream films. See? See? See? Imagine the outrage if Nolan’s fine film doesn’t figure. It will, though. A best director nod is certainly still possible.

  7. TOY STORY 3

  Pixar seems to have a permanent place booked in the expanded 10-strong best picture shortlist. Mind you, it will be interesting to see if the unpromising Cars 2 repeats the feat in 12 months time.

  8. THE KIDS ARE ALL RIGHT

  Hollywood will want to support a film with a female director and endorse a story that treats same-sex parents with sensitivity. It helps that it’s a really good piece.

  9. WINTER’S BONE

  Even before the number of nominations was increased, a place had been set aside for “the li’l indie film that could”. (Remember Little Miss Sunshine, Juno and Precious.) The rough-hewn quasi-thriller deserves the praise thrown at it. And if Blue Valentine, the other hot indie, makes it in, it will probably do so at the expense of…

  10. 127 Hours

  Something went badly wrong with the marketing of Danny Boyle’s exciting adventure in the US. It was sold as an art film and, when viewers found it was something else, they just got confused.

  What else could break through? Well, to my mind, there are only two serious contenders: Ben Affleck’s entertaining — but ultimately rather silly — The Town and Derek Cianfrance’s troubling Blue Valentine. Mike Leigh’s fine Another Year has not secured any serious traction. Once taken very seriously indeed, Mark Romanek’s Never Let Me Go is deader than a very dead thing.

  On balance, increasing the nominations from five to 10 was a good idea, but, this year at least, it doesn’t seem to have achieved what the Academy set out to do. They wanted to increase speculation. Well, we may all be proven wrong, but there is, in 2011, less argy bargy about the potential nominees than in most years under the old system.

  The other notion was that the list would allow in a token foreign-language pictures and a few big, fat mainstream films. There is almost no chance — if Biutiful makes it then sue me — of a non-Anglophone movie making the shortlist. True, Toy Story 3 and Inception were both big hits, but Pixar is already an Oscar favourite and the Nolan film is a defiantly, proudly odd sort of blockbuster. There is, unsurprisingly, no suggestion that a superhero flick, a jolly romcom or a Harry Potter picture might creep up on the rails. Blame the low quality of last year’s popcorn releases.

  There are, however, sure be some turn-ups in the acting categories. Aren’t there? Well, maybe. But, as awards season gets longer and busier, it becomes harder to spring a surprise. That said, there is one interesting undecided issue. If you’ve seen True Grit, you will agree that young Hailee Steinfeld deserves a nomination for best actress. But here’s the thing. Paramount Pictures has, despite the fact she is in virtually every scene, decided to promote her as best supporting actress. Now, a few years ago, the Weinsteins tried this on with Kate Winslet and The Reader. The voters, who can put actors in the category of their choice, told the brothers to sod off and propelled Kate into the best actress category (which she eventually won). Who knows how obedient they’ll be this year?

  Anyway, to add to the fun, here are my guesses at best actor and actress. What do you reckon? We’ll know at lunchtime tomorrow.

  BEST ACTOR

  1. COLIN FIRTH (THE KING’S SPEECH)

  Currently unbackable at 1/12 with Ladbrokes.

  2. JAMES FRANCO (127 HOURS)

  Showy. High-concept.

  3. JEFF BRIDGES (TRUE GRIT)

  A (very) outside chance of becoming the third man to win back-to-back best actor Oscars.

  4. JESSE EISENBERG (THE SOCIAL NETWORK)

  Very good, but very low key.

  5. JAVIER BARDEM (BIUTIFUL)

  It’s foreign (and got mixed reviews), but they like him.

  BEST ACTRESS

  1. NATALIE PORTMAN (BLACK SWAN)

  Close to unbackable at 1/6 with Ladbrokes. Mind you, a sentimental surge might favour…

  2. ANNETTE BENING (THE KIDS ARE ALL RIGHT)

  Always the bridesmaid.

  3. JENNIFER LAWRENCE (WINTER’S BONE)

  There’s always one indie invader.

  4. MICHELLE WILLIAMS (BLUE VALENTINE)

  Sometimes there’s two.

  5. NICOLE KIDMAN (RABBIT HOLE)

  She hasn’t gone away, you know.

  Before I leave you, there’s space for one amusing aside. I have, at several points, referred to the odds at Ladbrokes. When last I checked, the list of best directors — headed by David Fincher, Tom Hooper and Christopher Nolan — included a mention for Terrence Malick. Well, it’s worth a tiny punt. After all, considering that director’s long delayed The Tree of Life will not be seen until May, the odds are sure to be astronomical. This will be one of those bets — like Martians landing in Navan or Russell Brand becoming Pope — that will, surely, offer odds of 50,000/1 or so. Heck, it’s worth staking a euro. What’s this? 33/1? I think somebody needs to have a word with the bloke who handles entertainment gambling at that bookmakers. No wonder so many of the other odds are so screwy.

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• A nap for the stupidest Oscar

  January 21, 2011 @ 10:14 pm | by Donald Clarke

  

  On many previous occasions, I have given out about the Academy Award for best foreign language picture. I am not alone. The selection procedures for this gong are insane and, even when the correct films make it into the final five, the voters invariably pick the wrong winner. Take last year for example. The Secret in Their Eyes is a decent enough slice of glossy pulp, but it is hardly in the same league as The White Ribbon or A Prophet. Yet the Argentinean film beat both the latter pictures to the big prize. This minor scandal paled, however, when set beside the outrages of 2008. In that year, you remember, neither Cristian Mungiu’s 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days nor Vincent Paronnaud and Marjane Satrapi’s Persopolis made it onto the shortlist. The ultimate winner was the decent, but unremarkable, The Counterfeiters.

  At least, 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days and Persepolis were the official selections of their respective nations. In the same year, many Oscar-watchers wondered why La Vie En Rose, a solid, unchallenging Oscar-friendly release, for which Marion Cotillard won best actress, wasn’t in the final five come gong day. Well, as each nation is only allowed to put one film forward, the French had to choose between the ground-breaking animation and the enjoyable biopic. The Oscar voters simply weren’t allowed to plump for La Vie En Rose. This is an absurd situation. It’s one thing to ask a nation such as Albania (or Ireland, for that matter) to limit its choices. It’s quite another to ask cinematically fecund non-Anglophonic countries such as France or Japan to follow the same rule. Why are we getting nations to select films anyway? Aren’t the Academy voters capable of seeking out the year’s more exotic releases on their own? They are supposed to be professionals.

  Since its inception, the award has favoured the sentimental and heart-warming over the challenging and pessimistic. The ideal winner is a drama about a muddy-faced child who, despite beautiful poverty, overcomes difficulties — the death of his lovely mother in act two, for example — to gain a kind of sunny transcendence. You know. The sorts of things Miramax used to flog. Life is Beautiful. Kolya. Cinema Paradiso. And so on.

  All of which brings us to the long-list for this year. Here we go:

  Hors la Loi (Algeria)

  Incendies (Canada)

  In a Better World (Denmark)

  Dogtooth (Greece)

  Confessions (Japan

  Biutiful (Mexico)

  Life, Above All (South Africa)

  Tambien la Lluvia (Spain)

  Simple Simon (Sweden)

  Regular readers of this “blog” will know that I was one of those who heard — and savoured — the dog-whistle that was Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives. But the winner of the Palme d’Or always felt a little recherché for the staid Oscar voters. So I can’t pretend to any great outrage. No. The real shocker here is the exclusion of Of Gods and Men. A critical hit throughout the world, runner-up at Cannes, Xavier Beauvois’s film, which is still playing to packed houses in Dublin’s Light House Cinema, seemed like a shoo-in even with this crowd. Was it too obscure? Is it too quiet? You may as well ask the wind why it blows.

  The other conspicuous non-nominee is Luca Guadagnino’s I Am Love. Here, alas, we again run up against the preposterous selection procedure. The Italian committee didn’t put the film forward. I haven’t seen La Prima Cosa Bella, the ultimate selection from that country, and it may well be marvelous, but the Oscar voters should have had the opportunity to vote for Guadagnino’s picture.

  There is one cause for celebration. The magnificently disturbing Dogtooth, a tale of alienation from Greece, has somehow made it into the semi-final. If it wins I’ll eat my own head.

  So, what is going to triumph? Well, back in May, many of my pals urged me not to miss Live Above All at Cannes. Selected for the Un Certain Regard section at the French jamboree, the film is the tale of a South African child who, hindered by a mother suffering from Aids and troubled by a friend who works as a child prostitute, somehow manages to retain dignity and keep the family together. Though the picture features a genuinely jaw-dropping juvenile performance from Khomotso Manyaka (as good as you’ll ever see, in fact), I found it a bit neat, a bit sentimental, a bit too cosily heart-warming. Hang on. Brave child? Pretty poverty? Triumph over the odds? The moment the credits rolled I scribbled the words “best foreign-language picture” in my notes. I’m not sure if any bookies are offering odds on this race yet. But you may, perhaps, persuade a gullible friend into taking your bet. It’s money in the bank, my friends.

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