Nicolas Cage does not need your Oscars

He already has a Best Actor trophy from Leaving Las Vegas. So why would Nic Cage bother with your puny little awards show when the Academy couldn’t even be bothered to recognize what a subtle, affecting performance he gave in Drive Angry?

Cage and his family holed up in Las Vegas, fittingly, over Oscar weekend. On Feb. 25, Cage took his wife, Alice, and their son, the destined-to-be-repeatedly-beat-up Kal-El, to see Viva Elvis at Aria. He said the show was great, and that he’d like to bring his older son, Weston, the next time they were in town. And, presumably, if Weston isn’t too sick of hearing about that time his father briefly married Elvis’ daughter, whose penchant for weird marriages outshines even Mary Jo Buttofuoco’s.

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Muhammad Ali is undoubtedly the greatest boxer in history, possibly the greatest American athlete ever, and a thoughtful man of dignity and easy grace, even in his more difficult, later years. So is foisting Diddy on his birthday gala any way to treat him? Even money Diddy slipped airplane bottles of Cîroc in the back of Ali’s wheelchair when no one was looking.

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