Jan 16, 2012

My Last 2 Cents on the Golden Globes

There are tables. There is booze. There is schmoozing.  So why does the Hollywood Foreign Press Association, which apparently is comprised in its entirety by four Transylvanian munchkins, insist on making the Golden Globes as pompous and boring as the Oscars, but with tables, booze, and schmoozing?
The only thing that shouldn't change is that there are no song and dance numbers.
Ricky Gervais, who was completely defanged last night, is not enough to be "edgy". I mean, Rupert H. Murdoch was there and there was complete silence from Gervais on the subject. Instead, he went for a Kardashian. What a loser.
You have to come up with a more streamlined ceremony, less inept and irrelevant presenters (Adam Levine, who the fuck cares?), more Gervais, and much, much more camera panning through the tables to see who is picking their nose, getting soused or is as bored as the audience at home (I saw several). Forget the treacly, overly solemn special awards. You are not anointing them for popehood, you are giving an actor a trophy. And for the life of you, hire better writers for the presenters, or better yet, let them improv! They should be able to do this in their sleep (not).
And if you are going to be raunchy, then don't do it on NBC. The bleeps were the length of a Cecil B. de Mille movie. Do it without bleeping, or do it elsewhere.

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