Like many pop culture writers, I force-fed myself the Golden Globes telecast last night. And like most awards shows, it was largely interminable, punctuated with occasional moments of genuine joy and spontaneity. Do we even need to bring up the pointlessness of the Globes themselves? That they’ve long been accused of being a corrupt organization with an obscure membership and the only time they made news this past year outside of the awards ceremony was with a bizarre/offensive profile of Drew Barrymore that they ended up apologizing for?
For the most part, we assume that the Hollywood Foreign Press Association (HFPA) is corrupt and no one cares because they throw a good party. It’s like Scientology; every time it comes up, you feel a duty to bring up Shelly Miscavige not being seen in public since 2007, but there’s only so many times you can do that before becoming the “well, actually” guy. Better to assume everyone already knows the Golden Globes are dumb. Better to just pretend that this small group of foreign film junketeers just genuinely did think BOHEMIAN F*CKING RHAPSODY was the best movie of the year and go on with your day.
Andy Samberg and Sandra Oh hosted last night’s telecast, and they were… fine. Not that I blame them, they’re both likable and talented, but to be an awards show host is to risk career suicide. Everything about the awards process is thoroughly ridicule-worthy — think Jared Leto winning an Oscar for playing a trans woman and then dedicating his victory to the people of Ukraine — but to make fun of some of the tools in the audience is to risk one of those tools not hiring you. That’s a lot to ask of two people with already thriving careers. Sandra Oh won an acting award on her own telecast! Better to just make the inoffensive, maybe slightly lame jokes and live to act another day, I get that. No one really expects these shows to be entertaining anyway.
The speeches ranged from delightful and touching — Regina Hall, Glenn Close, Christian Bale — to Chuck Lorre, collecting best TV comedy for The Kominsky Method (I know there’s a lot of TV out there now but has anyone actually seen this show?), who managed to combine the fewest actual words spoken with the longest on-stage time. “I’d like to thank… um… wow… my wife…. gosh… okay… uh, my pal, Dave… wow… um… my kids… our make up guy… um … wow…”
Hey, aren’t you a sitcom writer? Maybe trying saying more than one word every seven seconds.