The property is currently listed for a cool $8.5 million.
"Once Upon a Time in Hollywood" and "Joker" are among the favourites.
We almost can't watch.
If nothing else, Before the Flood allows viewers a glimpse at Leo DiCaprio's apparently tortured thought process. The results aren't pretty, but they tell you a lot. In nearly two hours of preaching all manner of rehashed conspiracies, his documentary ultimately provides few facts.
This is not complicated, Leo, so keep up. Do you and your entourage really need an over-sized, gas-guzzling and polluting SUV to get you to your over-sized, jet-fuel-guzzling and polluting chopper to get you to your over-sized, jet-fuel-guzzling and polluting private jet? Not really. You know how I know that?
Last night, Chris Rock and the Academy didn't give a damn what people thought. I think this was the most real award show I've ever laid my eyes on. I liked it. And I'd like to see Chris Rock be given the reins to every awards show in existence.
It took 25 years, five nominations, and eating a raw bison liver.
We're so confident in our picks, we ate Scotch bonnet peppers to back it up.
Maybe this is the year for Leo.
And it's all thanks to Instagram.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to diverse TV!"
"Let's all calm down about... how hard it was to shoot 'The Revenant.'"
It's not easy being Leonardo DiCaprio. While preaching that fossil fuel use is triggering a global climate catastrophe, Leo hops around the world on fuel-guzzling private jets. "If we do not act together, we will surely perish," he tells the United Nations. I'll say it again: Leo has a hard time aligning his message with his actions.
The nomination list has probably made its way into your life, whether it be via a series of live-tweets from a room filled with members of the press or articles filled with obnoxious opinions (read: this one). So, I figured that I would take this opportunity to share my thoughts slash predictions for the upcoming Academy Awards.
"I want to share this award with all the First Nations people represented in this film and all the indigenous communities around the world."
Snow was in short supply.
but he looks just like him!
Gracey Dove, who is originally from the Canim Lake Indian Band, announced the news on Instagram.
By now, it's an almost entirely predictable routine: a celebrity takes a tour of the Alberta oilsands for a day or two and quickly harnesses apocalyptic rhetoric in press conferences to detail the experience. Chagrined industry spokespeople lash out. News coverage dissipates after a few days. Rinse and repeat.