To my dismay, over the last few years, awards shows have become a chore.
That’s a bummer, as an awards show enthusiast and a kid who treated the Oscars like the Super Bowl. Someone who pursued a career where his encyclopedic knowledge of Best Supporting Actress nominees over the decades would actually be useful.
It’s not just me. It’s gotten to the point that when a Sunday night during awards season approaches, friends and family offer me grave messages of “good luck.” The tone in my mother’s voice when I spoke to her on the phone this weekend was as if she were waving a handkerchief as I walked down the dusty driveway to catch the army bus and head off to war.
But I love this stuff, at a time when, in rapidly increasing numbers, no one else seems to give a s--t about it. Which is why I’m so conflicted about this year’s Golden Globes telecast.
It was, I think, a good show.
Nikki Glaser killed it. She’s easily the best award-show emcee since the heyday of Billy Crystal.
I didn’t object to a single winner. The speeches were polite, not rambly, and suitably emotional. Presenters like Melissa McCarthy, Kathryn Hahn, Mila Kunis, Keegan-Michael Key, Judd Apatow, and the Heated Rivalry boys made me giggle. Julia Roberts got a standing ovation for having to get up and move her chair every time a winner needed to get to the stage being the megastar that she is.
So then, why, when recognizing that they produced what could legitimately be considered a top-tier awards telecast, did I find the show so…boring? Tedious, maybe? Actually, to use the word again: a chore.
I think I know the answer.
We asked the Golden Globes to become a serious organization. To reward quality. To earn its marquis spot on the dog-and-pony show circuit, even though its membership has nothing to do with the Academy Awards, and is therefore meaningless as a bellwether. And in accomplishing all that, it lost its identity. This is a show that, sure, was corrupt and all. But it was also…fun.
The show was known for being Hollywood’s booziest night. For rewarding the zeitgeist-seizing projects and the sexy actors that snootier organizations wouldn’t dare. I want the Golden Globes to stop trying to sit at the fancy table. It’s time for them to go back to being a drunken mess again. Otherwise, what’s the point?
Things started promising. I’d give a standing ovation for host Nikki Glaser, returning for a second time.
She gets what so many award show hosts don’t: You have to actually know about the people and projects you’re joking about, and you have to love the room you’re roasting in order for it to land. Hell, she got Sean Penn to laugh at himself. What is the Pulitzer category for achieving that?
The jokes about industry-y things were edgy enough to get the room laughing without them wanting to crawl out of their skin. Her punchlines about celebrities like Timothée Chalamet and Leonardo DiCaprio were told with a wink and, sometimes, even an apology, which brought everyone—from the people in the room to those watching at home—into her corner. And she rose to the occasion when it was time to flip the middle finger.
Glaser called out both the hypocritical wokeness of Hollywood and the very network the Globes was airing on with her best joke, greeting the room of A-listers: “By A-listers, I do mean people who have been on a list, that has been heavily redacted. The Golden Globe for Best Editing goes to the Justice Department. And the Golden Globe for Most Editing goes to CBS News.”
If that shocked the network, I can’t imagine what they thought when Paul T. Anderson, accepting Best Director for One Battle After Another, said the phrase, “This p---y don’t pop for you.” On Bari Weiss’ CBS?!?!
Glaser also delivered an end riff that earned a crescendo of applause, which was amazing because she was talking about celebs and filmmakers from the perspective of how we all interact with TV and movies. There seemed to be a theme of “we’re trying to modernize and be relevant and thinking about Hollywood the way you think about Hollywood” that seemed nice. Podcasts! Box office award! Until it went off the rails.
I didn’t take it as a good sign that, at least on my social feed, the aspects of the Globes telecast that got the most traction were its sponsorship by betting site Polymarket and the randomness of the music played.
The most talked about moments weren’t, like, who won and what funny, buzzy thing happened. It was the fact that “Yeah” by Usher bizarrely played while Sentimental Value star Stellan Skarsgård accepted his award for Best Supporting Actor, and the dystopian nature of the betting odds for the next category scrolling across the screen as the show went to commercial break.
One Battle After Another, Sinners, Hamnet, Adolescence, The Studio, and The Pitt dominated. There’s no complaining about any of that. The Critics Choice Awards felt the same way just last week. In fact, every critics group this season rewarded them, as well as Globe winners Rose Byrne, Wagner Moura, Jean Smart, and Timothée Chalamet. But the Globes didn’t used to be lockstep with everyone else. They used to be zany. Dare I say, even cool because of it!
The Globes gave Best Series trophies to shows the Emmys have far too much loser energy to ever reward, like Grey’s Anatomy, Party of Five, Nip/Tuck, The X-Files, Extras, Girls, and Twin Peaks. Lady Gaga has an acting Golden Globe for American Horror Story. The camp Christina Aguilera/Cher musical Burlesque has a Best Picture trophy. Hugh Jackman has a Golden Globe for Kate & Leopold. What even is that movie? And sometimes, the randomness isn’t wild, but accurate. Sharon Stone: Golden Globe winner for Casino.
Judd Apatow did a whole extended bit on how stupid the Globes winners used to be. The good times!
The Globes can’t be criticized for its taste anymore. We’re long past random Johnny Depp projects showered with nominations because the Hollywood Foreign Press was schmoozed by him. Now, the biggest complaint is that they’re so in line with other awards groups that its picks are downright boring. Jessie Buckley, Timothée Chalamet, and Paul T. Anderson all gave lovely audition speeches for their eventual time at the Oscar mic. It all just feels…rudimentary.
The show itself had an admirable polish, but was disappointing because of it. We crave drunken tomfoolery. Remember when Jack Nicholson would be at the front table, wearing sunglasses because he was so blasted? When multiple stars missed their wins because they were in the loo?
The Globes became famous for chaos. For stars feeling like they could let loose. I don’t know if it’s an indictment of the awards race in general or the Globes specifically, but everything was so buttoned-up, so smooth.
I’m fully aware of my status as an award-show Goldilocks, demanding meaningful change from an organization and then yawning when it happens. That’s why I’m so thankful for Nikki Glaser. If anyone can save this sinking ship, it’s her.
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