The Golden Globes embraced a millennia-old tradition last night: Sunday as a day of rest.
Oh how tiring they were. Only minutes into the show honoring the yearâs best movies and TV series, I was ready to hit the hay.
Instead of counting sheep, we counted bored stars.
Their facial expressions, like mine, were stuck at âmeh.â For once, I felt âseen.â
The Globes werenât a total abomination, as far as these formulaic shindigs go. Remember the Jo Koy debacle? But chamomile tea and melatonin are less time-consuming of a commitment.
The lethargy wasnât the fault of host Nikki Glaser, who was funny, lacerating and likable. CBS should keep her on for as long as she wants.
The ace roasterâs opening monologue included some truly biting digs â including a Jeffrey Epstein bit that managed to stop the show.
âThere are so many A-listers here,â she said. âAnd by A-list I do mean âA list that has been heavily redacted.ââ
Then, like everybody always does, she chided âOne Battle After Anotherâ lead Leonardo DiCaprio for his ever-lengthening resume of young girlfriends.
But there was more to the crack than an easy jab.
âIâm sorry I made that joke,â she said, seeming to apologize. âIt was so cheap. But we donât know anything else about you, man!â
Hysterical. But thatâs 10 minutes of laughs over a more-than-three-hour broadcast. When the prizes themselves kicked off, the event flatlined like a heart monitor from âThe Pitt.â
You could palpably feel the toll the overlong award season has taken on the winners. They spoke like frozen zombies about to attack Westeros.
Who can blame them?
TV winners like Jean Smart (âHacksâ), Noah Wyle (âThe Pittâ) and Owen Cooper (âAdolescenceâ) get a major award practically every month. âThe Studioâ won again. âThe Pittâ won again.
At the ceremony once famed for outrageous drunken behavior â the anti-Oscars â everyone seemed jetlagged and over it, even as the producers weirdly played unrelated upbeat pop, disco and hip-hop songs.
Presenters walked out to âShake Your Groove Thing,â âAPTâ and Outkastâs âSo Fresh, So Clean.â
Correction: So slow, so long.
Another excitement killer was that a sense of inevitability set in almost immediately.
As soon as âOne Battle After Another,â Paul Thomas Andersonâs politically tinged action epic, won supporting actress (Teyana Taylor) and screenplay, it was obvious the film was going all the way.
Lo and behold, it did. âOne Battleâ also snagged best motion picture â musical or comedy and director. Its road to the Academy Awards will involve no battling â merely showing up.
The nightâs drama winner âHamnet,â shattering though it is, doesnât really have a shot. Â
A mere 90 minutes in, the hottest race of the night, best actor in a motion picture â musical or comedy, was already over.
First-time winner TimothĂ©e Chalamet (âMarty Supremeâ) rightly beat DiCaprio, Ethan Hawke (âBlue Moonâ), George Clooney (âJay Kellyâ) and Michael B. Jordan (âSinnersâ). Timmy surely Chal take the Oscar, too.
So will the transcendent Jessie Buckley, who won best actress â drama for playing a grieving mother in âHamnet.â Rose Byrne is fantastic in âIf I Had Legs Iâd Kick You,â but the indie is too weird for the academy.
By the way, when âHamnet,â in which a child dies, won best drama, these geniuses insanely blared the song âCelebration.â Â
Another curious production choice the telecast made â and we can always rely on the Globes to add some stupid thing that doesnât work â was having Varietyâs Marc Malkin and ETâs Kevin Frazier irritatingly chatter between categories and when stars were taking the stage. Mute!
Give that duo the ax pronto.
The never-ending trophy tour is far from over. Still to come are the Actor (SAG) Awards, the BAFTAs and finally the Oscars. One snooze after another.
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