The dynamic comic BFF duo showed Hollywood how to host an awards ceremony. And then some!
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It was Ladies Night last night at the Golden Globes, and clearly the ladies drank for free. Spirits were high and the booze was flowing. Had the presenters and winners—male and female alike—been subjected to a Breathalyzer test, the stage would have been empty. From the very start, devilishly funny hosts, SNL alums Tina Fey and Amy Poehler took command of the stage and set the tone for the evening. The humor would be sharp, smart, and elegantly barbed.
Which is just what audiences still queasy from the shit show that was Seth McFarlane’s Oscar hosting gig last year, needed to restore their faith in the awards show as entertainment. After McFarlane’s lazy, self-satisfied mugging and exuberantly misogynistic “We Saw Your Boobs” opener, mocking female actresses who had bared their breasts in film—it was clear that Fey and Poehler seemed intent on leveling the playing field. It was time to make things right. Television audiences at home deserved a good time. And the audience gathered in the Beverly Hilton in Hollywood, where 83 percent of the writers, directors, and producers are men, would get what they deserved too.
So Fey whipped out her quiver of delightfully poisonous arrows, and aimed them right at Hollywood.
1. On the lack of strong roles for women: “There is Meryl Streep proving there are still great parts for women in Hollywood. For Meryl Streeps over 60,” quipped Fey.
2. On weight loss, Matthew McConaughey had to take this zinger. His role in Dallas Buyers Club required that he “lost 45 pounds. Or what actresses call ‘being in a movie.’” Of course, if you’re a man who drops weight, you’re gonna gain yourself a Golden Globe—as cowboy McConaughey indeed proved.
3. On the dispensability of young, beautiful women. Fey joked that George Clooney was perfect for Gravity because he “would rather float away in space and die than spend one more minute with a woman his own age.” And later, she summoned Wolf of Wall Street star Leonardo DiCaprio to the stage with, “And now, like a supermodel’s vagina, let’s all give a warm welcome to Leonardo DiCaprio.
Poehler had some arrows of her own to shoot. But Wolf of Wall Street co-star Jonah Hill seemed very surprised to find himself the target of some not-so-friendly fire. “If I want to watch Jonah Hill masturbate at a pool party, I’ll go to one of Jonah Hill’s pool parties,” she joked. I had to wonder, Is this comedy-girl-gang retaliation for the nasty sexist cracks Hill made at the James Franco roast about Sarah Silverman being too old and unattractive to ever marry or bear children? Don’t mess with these gals. They will one up you every time. Yes, you, Jonah.
At one point it seemed Poehler went off script when she said, “After 12 Years a Slave, I’ll never look at slavery the same way,” an insider slam against Washington Post columnist Richard Cohen, who said that until he saw the film, he thought slavery was “a benign institution in which mostly benevolent whites owned innocent and grateful blacks.”
When Poehler advised the audience, “Ladies, kick off your shoes. Gentlemen, try them on and see how horrible they are,” it really did set the tone for the night. So, boys, how does it feel when the shoe is on the other foot?
It was wonderful to see Jacqueline Bisset be rewarded after decades of nominations. Less pleasing the fact that the actress appeared to be as if in a dream—a nightmare—where she shows up drunk, rambling, and disoriented to accept a Golden Globe. Which led me to wonder if perhaps she might like to ask Clint Eastwood to the Sadie Hawkins dance next year. I am not sure exactly what sort of statement Diane Keaton was making when, after accepting the Cecil B. De Mille award for Woody Allen, her old pal, paramour, and director, she broke into the treacly Girl Scout song, “Make new friends but keep the old…” I am absolutely clear on the feminist message Emma Thompson was sending when, fabulously sauced, she strode up to center stage with her Laboutin heels in one hand and a martini in the other, and tossed the instruments of torture off stage to great applause. Thompson, like Fey and Poehler wanted to be perfectly clear: We’re mad as hell and we’re not going to take it anymore. I’m thrilled that Fey and Poehler will be hosting again in 2015. Wouldn’t it be lovely if next year the stars, like the at-home audience, were wearing slippers? Or maybe not Fey and Poehler: It wouldn’t make kicking ass nearly as much fun.
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