If a tree falls in the forest, and no one is around, does it make a sound? But more importantly, if the Golden Globes are handed out, and only the Access Hollywood star-mergency response team is around, how many minutes before you change the channel?
I made it the whole way through–one hour–but that's only because NBC's Golden Globes Winners' Presentation was so spectacularly awful, it surpassed boring, shot through incredulity, and landed right in the middle of compelling.
It was like watching a huge, golden hot air balloon deflate live, with commentary by In Touch. In short, it was the perfect ceremony for a organization like the Hollywood Foriegn Press Association: cheap, star-worshippy, and bedazzled with wrong. The winners, as you know, are here. But, really, the winners didn't matter. What did matter, then? Nothing. Honestly, nothing, because the show was so stripped down it was essentially a mirror held up to meaninglessness.
How many times will Nancy O'Dell and Billy Bush say "boutique movie" or "boutique show"? Did Billy Bush just say compare Javier Bardem's character in No Country For Old Men to Darth Vader? (Exact words: "that was a no-brainer. He's one of the best villains ever, right up there with Darth Vader.") Why did O'Dell mention that Bardem is dating Penelope Cruz? Is Billy Bush a living, breathing person, or a varnished marionette with a brain chip emblazoned only with the word "duh"? Couldn't they get Pat O'Brien to do this? Could this get any worse? These are the questions that kept me watching.
Basically, it was a wonderful, wonderful failure. The highlight of the whole thing, besides NBC's palpable bitterness and that demonic glint in Billy Bush's glass eyes, was a somewhat painful Kathy Griffin segment during the bloated Dateline special of nominee interviews and sportscaster rap sessions.
So, no montages, no speeches, no in memoriums, and Kathy Griffin was the highlight. Simply put: best/worst awards show yet. I can't wait for the Oscars.