It took me two decades to work up the nerve to revisit Life is Beautiful, not because it’s such a difficult movie to watch—as far as Holocaust movies go, it might be the easiest—but because it took exactly that long for me to wash the taste of Roberto Benigni making an ass of himself at the Academy Awards out of my mouth. I apologize for using the words “ass” and “mouth” in such close proximity, but I’m hoping it will produce in you the precise revulsion I feel when I think of that particular evening.
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