Last night, I did what 99.9 percent of America did not do: I watched the 2024 Golden Globes.
Partly because I’m a masochist, and partly because I wanted to see the Hollywood elites emerge from their Ozempic dens (I like what you’ve done, Oprah.)
But the night was a bore, right from the “what are you wearing” chatter, when various TV “personalities” fawned over the celebrities they purport to cover.
A typical interview went like this:
“Journalist”: Congratulations on your new child. How is motherhood?
Shiny actress: Just the best ever.
(That was almost verbatim an interview between Entertainment Tonight correspondent Rachel Smith and Sarah Snook, who plays the bitchy sister in HBO’s Succession.)
Then there was the actual awards show.
The host, little-known comedian Jo Koy, reminded me of a t-shirt cannon man trying to pump up a Little League game (he often followed up jokes by questioning the amount of applause he received: “Really?”). There were the bored and facially refreshed actors reading off teleprompters. Special mention to Jared Leto, who came dressed as a cat burglar in black leather gloves.
This is an awards show, so in theory it’s supposed to tell you what the audience thinks of the films. But all I learned is what Hollywood thinks of itself: And it’s amazing, darling!
Robert Downey Jr. called Oppenheimer “a goddamn masterpiece” in his acceptance speech for his role in the film. Steven Yeun, who won Best Actor in a Limited Series for Beef, made the ultimate humblebrag, claiming he was “just the recipient of a long line of compassion and love and protection and goodwill.”
Someone needed to do a Will Smith and slap Hollywood with the truth—you look tired, sweetie. And dare I say, irrelevant.
I have newfound respect for the celebrities that, instead of attending, sent in outdated headshots (shout-out to Ricky Gervais and Steve Martin).
Many of America’s most watched shows weren’t even nominated, like Yellowstone, which averaged three times the number of viewers than the series finale of critical darling Succession. The Globes even created a new category to throw a bone to the hoi polloi, called the “Cinematic and Box Office Achievement” category, which went to Barbie.
In her acceptance speech, Margot Robbie said, “We would like to dedicate this to every single person on the planet who dressed up and went to the greatest place on Earth—the movie theater.”
The problem is that only 39 percent of Americans have been to “the greatest place on Earth” in the past year.
If the Golden Globes were a movie, it wouldn’t even win an award.
Better luck next year.
(Oh yeah, Oppenheimer won Best Drama. You can find the other winners here.)
Oliva Reingold is a staff writer at The Free Press. Follow her on X @Olivia_Reingold.
The Golden Globes, the Oscars, etc. are all really the “Me” awards. Right after, “and the winner is ….”, someone stands up and says, “thank you for recognizing Me. I am really great and you noticed and I am very appreciative that you finally realized that Me here, is really talented and the world should care.” Then, a few quick thank yous: “I would like to thank a couple of big people that I really need to make Me important the next time and would also like to acknowledge some little people — you are all so amazing — but no time to mention their names here.”
Since this repeats over and over and over and over and over again, year after year, why does anyone need to watch it other than the people who want to see themselves receiving an award?
And if the theatre is the greatest place on Earth, we have even bigger problems than I thought.
Wait a second. I thought "The Free Press" was a serious publication covering serious matters. What's it doing writing about a piece of celebrity-infested, brain-dead puffery like the Golden Balls? Did you guys seriously think: "Whoa: we'd better report on this in case all the other press outlets forget to"?
"Big schmooze"? More like Big Snooze. All of these awful award ceremonies are the same, year after plodding year - a horrorshow of insipid speeches; awkward false laughter; preening fashion parades of garishly bad taste; and a topping of virtue signalling to your own side. (Michelle Williams once used her GG acceptance speech to thank her ability to terminate her own child for her career.)
Seriously, guys. This is a real low for the FP. Stick to the grown-up stuff. Please.