The Golden Globes embraced a millenia-old tradition last night: Sunday as a day of rest.
Oh how tiring they were. Only minutes into the show honoring the year’s best movies and TV series, I was ready to hit the hay.
Instead of counting sheep, we coun
The Golden Globes embraced a millennia-old tradition last night: Sunday as a day of rest.
Oh how tiring they were. Only minutes into the show honoring the year’s best movies and TV series, I was ready to hit the hay.
Instead of counting sheep, we counted bored stars.
Their facial expressions, like mine, were stuck at “meh.” For once, I felt “seen.”
The Globes weren’t a total abomination, as far as these formulaic shindigs go. Remember the Jo Koy debacle? But chamomile tea and melatonin are less time-consuming of a commitment.
The lethargy wasn’t the fault of host Nikki Glaser, who was funny, lacerating and likable. CBS should keep her on for as long as she wants.
The ace roaster’s opening monologue included some truly biting digs — including a Jeffrey Epstein bit that managed to stop the show.
“There are so many A-listers here,” she said. “And by A-list I do mean ‘A list that has been heavily redacted.’”
Then, like everybody always does, she chided “One Battle After Another” lead Leonardo DiCaprio for his ever-lengthening resume of young girlfriends.
