The Globes have long been my favorite part of awards season for many of the same reasons they are looked down upon: the Hollywood Foreign Press Association and its inevitably surprising choices for nominees and winners; the hodgepodge of celebrities from television and film; the booze. Oh, the booze.
Of course, I am hardly the first to call attention to the Golden Globes' delightful informality, that schmoozy, gossipy high school reunion feel evoked by being dressed to the nines, seated according to social hierarchy and surrounded by friends, enemies, and alcohol. This year, the Globes made no attempt to deny the party atmosphere and instead decided to embrace it. The choice of Ricky Gervais as host, the copious scripted off-color jokes, Matt Damon's roast-style introduction of Robert DeNiro ... everything seemed to shout "see, we get it! We're the "fun" awards show! Don't you love this? Partaaaay!"
And then somehow it seemed to continue "My parents totally won't be home until ten o'clock, so we can get wild and crazy until then! ... Oh, but could you make sure and put a coaster on that table before you set down your beer?" And just like that the party atmosphere was gone.
