I have a pretty strong love-hate relationship with the Golden Globes. On the one hand they are complete crap: annually a shameful celebration of Hollywood money-making and a sad-excuse for honoring TV and film's markers of excellence. On the other, they give me someone to blame for all the recognition that these pathetic money-grubbing whores have received for the last twelve months. Quite honestly, I really sort of enjoy yelling at the television while the Hollywood Foreign Press Association doles out a dramatically undeserved award to the biggest blockbuster of the year (see 2010).
But this year it was all so predictable. I have nothing to talk about! Beyond the drama surrounding their poor nominations and the recent scandal, the actual award show turned out to be quite tame. The Social Network rightfully dominated the major categories, Colin Firth took home his age-old gold, and Glee triumphed with all it's heartwarming family-friendly speeches. Nothing shocking. Nothing to yell at. Nothing to even keep me interested. Where was Sean Penn when we needed him? (see last year's Oscars. And the one before that.) Why couldn't someone have stormed out? (see Dreamgirls) I didn't even get a genuine weeping speech. I hate the Golden Globes for yet another reason. And I am once again asking myself why I watch it in the first place. But I know I can't resist. Because Sean Penn is still out there, and Christian Bale might just punch someone if he doesn't win.
Here's to hoping for more alcohol at the SAG awards. Till then, someone had better begin to break Oscar nomination rules.
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