SILENCE IS GOLDEN The Golden Globes ceremony went off last night without a hitch and almost no production of which to speak, stripped down due to the writer's strike to just two presenters calling out the nominees and the names of the winners. It was simple, actually quite pleasant and profoundly exciting in the same way as seeing a man with crutches suddenly walk unaided.
The winners are listed after the jump.
We're sure you've heard: Thanks to the WGA strike, the Golden Globes were canceled, and it is completely plausible that the Oscars might also be canned. Huzzah! Use the hours that would have been spent gown-spotting in front of the television to play with your kids. Or, spend some time making kids (which we hear is all the rage).
Of course, not everyone shares our delight with the abandonment of the masturbatory ceremonies. Prone as they are to worship false Gods, Hollywood heavies are bemoaning the quashing of the golden statues.
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SELF-COITUS INTERRUPTUS "…NBC will not be broadcasting a big Golden Globes show as planned for January 13th. Nor will a much ballyhooed unbroadcasted event be held, either. Instead, a stripped down announcements telecast will be aired by NBC News."
Since she's been chosen to take on the duties of Miss Golden Globe at this year's awards, E! has a strong hunch that Rumer Willis is hungry for the fame that has surrounded her her entire life.
Previous red carpet runs may have been simply a matter of tagging along after her more famous friends. And maybe she just took those bit parts to further family togetherness. But putting on an evening gown and mingling with the glitterati onstage before a camera? That's incontrovertible proof that Rumer Willis wants to be famous.
We thought she wanted to be famous after seeing that she's been in six movies, but an awards show bit part is a good indication, too, we guess.
Dear Vanessa Williams,
Sure, honey, you're part of the ensemble cast that makes Ugly Betty a huge show for ABC. But it was about five seconds ago that you were one of the stars of South Beach, a show that will go down in short-lived history as being a cheap Miami knock-off of Sex and the City. So while we're all very impressed with the size of your new paycheck, don't let it go to your head. Or your hair. Unless you treat us to a makeout session with Eric Mabius, we're going to take every opportunity to remind you that you should be embarrassed in that weave.
Best,
Cord
So, what a surprisingly lame and tame Golden Globes, huh? Seeing as the whole premise of awards shows is just people who make movies telling their friends how fucking awesome they are, for those of us not working in films, it's tough to watch all these people kiss each other's asses and thank their agents without hoping for Anna Nicole to stumble to a mic with a Percocet-induced weepy rant. But everyone was being gracious and classy. What gives? I was even able to stomach Jamie Foxx and his bullshit strut for more than five minutes.
Not only were there not any Abdul-esque meltdowns, but what should have been the night's funniest acceptance speech from Borat turned into a really awful and graphic description of Sacha Baron Cohen having balls and ass on his face ("rancid bubble?" Yuck).
Anyway, as an homage to the Globes, I've created my own award: the Miseries. These are my awards for the Globe attendees who, in the face of global (Global?) adulation, are still able to remain noticeably uncomfortable, selfish and/or bitter.
The nominees are:
• Jeremy Piven's mother, who should seriously consider taking Cusack's side in the Piven/Cusack rift
• Bill Paxton, who plateaued as Chet in art-house flick Weird Science
• Clint Eastwood, who "can't stand this glitzy horse shit"
• David Spade, who is desperately in need of a new, fatter, funnier sidekick
• Chloë Sevigny, who doesn't function well outside of the Lower East Side or Connecticut
• Angelina Jolie, who doesn't function well outside of barren, war-torn nations
Ultimately, I think David Spade wins. Dude hasn't been really commercially successful in years, Heather Locklear just broke his wittle heart and his best friend/acting partner, Chris Farley, still can't be replaced. Now, they're making him wear a tuxedo? I'm with you, David. Be glum, chum.
While Mary-Kate and Ashley may not have won any Golden Globes, been nominated for any Golden Globes, or have hope to ever clutch a Golden Globes, they still made the red carpet circuit during last night's ordeal in L.A. And naturally, they weren't the only ones: The whole clipboard list of young Hollywood showed their faces, including It-girl hopeful Michelle Trachtenberg, Donald Trump's daughter Ivanka, Katharine McPhee's chest, and, oh look, Mary-Kate again.
Oh, and I heard those Desperate Housewives girls were there too. But they're oooooold.
And there you have it, folks. The scariest part of last night's Golden Globes — besides the lackluster giftbags. It's Melinda Clarke, who you'd normally recognize as the evil mom on The O.C. Clearly, the show's cancelation hasn't made her the least bit cynical.
Editor
