Golden Globes: The Morning After(thoughts)

As I stated in my review, there seemed to be pent-up energy that spilled over within the Beverly Hilton audience during Sunday’s Golden Globes telecast, apparent even to a viewer at home (or in my case, a viewer in a tuxedo watching a TV monitor backstage. Who said the life of a journalist isn’t glamorous?).

That initial perception seemed even more true after the event, waiting to get into HBO’s after-party and pushing through walls of humanity, who all seemed more intent on blowing off a little steam than usual. As a consequence, everyone was patient for the most part throughout the night, despite tedious, poorly organized lines to board a shuttle bus back to the preordained parking garage (many people hopped into cabs) or the need to navigate past the entourage that invariably surrounds the guys from “Entourage” just to say hello.

HBO’s dominance within the night’s TV awards was also reinforced by the opulence of its poolside bash, which explains why so much talent associated with other networks crowded into the event. The channel’s spare-no-expense parties convey a not-so-subtle message that the pay channel remains alive and well and continues to play by its own set of rules, which is precisely the “It’s not TV” image it wishes to convey within the creative community.

Two more unrelated postscripts:

— Granted, the Globes are primarily a film showcase as an Oscar tune-up, but the way supporting actors from TV movies/miniseries and series regulars are thrown into competition together is idiotic and really should be either discarded or changed. A count of the last 10 years found that movie talent has claimed 13 of the 20 supporting prizes for actors and actresses, which means dropping in for a few weeks on a movie trumps grinding out a performance on a series week after week by roughly two to one. It’s an apples and oranges comparison at best, and not even remotely fair.

— In terms of memorable moments that didn’t make it to air, my personal favorite was stumbling through the lobby and twice hearing women yell loudly, “Is that Mickey Rourke’s dog?”

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