For all you guys out there who complain that award shows — with their pretty dresses, teary-eyed acceptance speeches, and penchant for period piece films — are the primetime equivalent of a “chick flick,” the 67th Annual Golden Globes ceremony seemed determined to prove you wrong. In fact, this year, it actually may have been the women viewers who felt a bit neglected and unloved by the festivities . . .
This boys’ club atmosphere began on the red carpet, where it just so happened to be heavily raining. This undoubtedly put a literal damper on the female actresses’ dreams of having their painstakingly coiffed hairstyles gushed over by Joan Rivers and her minions. The lucky ones stood under umbrellas that obscured most of their features during the interview portion of the evening. As for the others . . . well, needless to say, the “wet look” will surely be making a comeback this year.
And yet, wet or dry, the women were not the ones who the fashion pundits were focused on during this particular awards ceremony. Rather, all eyes were on the stylings of the men, or rather, the lack thereof. After all, who could forget Paul McCartney’s sparkly vest, which made him look like an amalgamation of a waiter at TGI Fridays, a boy scout, and a “Rhinestone Cowboy?”
Perhaps you may also have noticed the unusual abundance of facial hair at these awards? This year’s “Razor Haters” included: the typically impeccably groomed George Clooney and Jon Hamm, Hamm’s Mad Men costar Vincent Kartheiser (Pete Campbell would not have been pleased), Jeff Bridges (who will forever in my mind be The Dude from The Big Lebowski, and, today, looked the part), William Hurt, and Golden Globe host Ricky Gervais, who, in true frat boy fashion, spent most of his time on stage swigging from a tall mug of beer.
Even the award winners themselves were a decidedly masculine bunch. First, there was the aforementioned Dude, Jeff Bridges, beating out the Clark Gable-esque Clooney and Mr. Darcy himself (Colin Firth) for Best Actor in a Drama Film. Next came, Robert Downey Jr., who was awarded Best Comedy Film Actor for his turn as the hard-drinking, slightly slovenly, always ass-kicking Sherlock Holmes, in the male buddy comedy of the same name. The Best Supporting Film Actor award went (quite appropriately, in my opinion) to Christopher Waltz for his turn as Colonel Hans Landa in Quentin Tarantino’s World War II-themed Inglourious Basterds.
Kevin Bacon earned nods for his performance in the also war-themed Taking Chances. The serial killer drama Dexter swept the television drama actor categories. To top things off, the geeked-out 3D sci-fi fantasy Avatar beat out the somewhat romantic coming of middle-age tale, Up in the Air in both the Best Director and Best Drama categories.
But perhaps most shocking of all was the award for Best Comedy Film, which went to, of all films, The Hangover, a buddy film about a bunch of guys who get so wasted at their friend’s bachelor party they end up spending the whole night drinking, screwing, getting beat up, and hanging out with Mike Tyson, although not necessarily in that order. (For those of you who haven’t seen it, I sincerely apologize for spoiling the ending for you.)
Heck, the Cecile B. Demile Lifetime Achievement Award went to Martin Scorcese tonight! And, seriously, could there be a more masculine director out there than Marty? (Tarantino is a contender for this category as well. But I think he probably takes a close second.) I mean, this is the guy who directed Raging Bull, Goodfellas, Gangs of New York, Casino, and The Departed for crying out loud!
In addition to being a night that celebrated men, masculinity, and over-abundant facial hair, this was also a night of appreciation for new talent: with the outstanding freshman ensemble cast of Glee winning Best Television Comedy, and Julianna Margulies, of the new series The Good Wife, picking up the award for Best Actress in a Television Drama. And yet, while this year’s Golden Globes definitely appreciated new talent, it showed a certain impatience for talent of the non-celebrity variety. While the producers of the awards allowed some of their A-list actors to drone on endlessly during their acceptance speeches, those same producers often rudely silenced screenplay and song writers with orchestral music, just seconds after these equally-deserving individuals found their way to the stage.
Although not without it faults, one thing could be said about the 67th Annual Golden Globes ceremony, it was certainly not predictable. And when it comes to an institution that often gets bogged down with pomp and circumstance, it is unpredictability that keeps viewers coming back year after year . . .
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