The “This Is Fine” meme stems from the Gunshow webcomic by KC Green. It features a happy dog with platter-sized pupils and a jaunty hat enjoying a cup of coffee in a dining room immersed in flames. The dog smiles and observes, “This is fine.”
Do I need to explain to you that nothing is actually fine for that happy pup and his smoke-filled home?
For anybody looking to see a 200-minute, star-studded illustration of the “This Is Fine” meme as presented by CBS, the self-appointed broadcasting embodiment of the “This Is Fine” meme, look no further than Sunday night’s telecast of the 83rd Golden Globe Awards.
I mean this, in case you can’t tell, as a criticism. In a world on fire, the telecast was 95 percent cheery pablum, as the producers, directors and stars of films about the necessity of rebellion (One Battle After Another), the searing pain of trauma (Hamnet), the lingering trauma of fascism (The Secret Agent), the lingering trauma of racism (Sinners) and the hollow narcissism of the American Dream (Marty Supreme) got up and cheerily thanked various corporate overlords and sang the praises of the healing power of cinema. Nobody mentioned “Trump,” “ICE,” “Renee Good,” “Venezuela” or “Gaza.” Nobody referenced that it was exactly a year ago that the city of Los Angeles was on fire. But at least we got dozens of shots of David Zaslav and Ted Sarandos and David Ellison, all beaming.
In a year of scathing movies (and some enraged television shows, though the Globes mostly ignored stuff like Andor and Mussolini: Son of the Century), the message projected was that of a perfectly gorgeous Hollywood hive mind, one that even placated Carol Sturka by giving a bauble to the manifestly deserving Rhea Seehorn. (There were a lot of very deserving winners on Sunday night. This isn’t a review of the choices made by whomever it is who votes on the Golden Globes.)
I can only assume that this was exactly what CBS and the Golden Globes wanted the show to be. Almost nobody, with the very possible exception of Ricky Gervais, is likely to come away from the telecast feeling offended, like they were confronted by anything the least bit political or even loosely ideological.
Is anybody going to think it was a good telecast? Probably not. Because it wasn’t.
But let’s quickly backtrack, because as much as I’m a grouch and the Globes are very often a bad awards show, this year got something pretty right: Nikki Glaser thoroughly fulfilled the potential she showed in her inaugural hosting stint last year, when she came across as somewhat uncomfortable with the format and even more uncomfortable with how to balance her hard R-rated comic sensibility with a broadcast-friendly telecast, even one known for its drunken revelry. I gave Glaser credit primarily for being far superior to Jo Koy, the disastrous host of the previous year’s disastrous Golden Globes telecast.
This year, though, I’ll go several steps further: Glaser was a very good Golden Globes host.
Mostly, of course, that meant she did a very good monologue. Yes, there were the sort of hacky bits that events like this demand. Did you know that Leonardo DiCaprio tends to date women who are much younger than he is? I bet you did, because Golden Globes hosts have been making fun of DiCaprio and his young girlfriends for at least 15 years, probably longer. Credit to Glaser, though, for acknowledging that part of why “Leonardo DiCaprio’s girlfriends have an expiration date” is such a hoary monologue favorite is because he has strategically presented himself as one of our most opaque stars. What else are you going to chide him for? Environmentalism? It’s easier to make a “Leo Dates Young Women” joke and then move on…to gags about Kevin Hart being short. Look, even in the freshest award show monologues, there’s room to play the hits.
Glaser, who took the stage in the first of a long slate of costume changes, gave the impression that she was opening the door for a show prepared to address the existential distress most artists feel toward the world. Her very first words were: “Yes, the Golden Globes, without a doubt the most important thing that’s happening in the world right now.”
She proceeded to make jokes about redactions to the Epstein files, the recent hatcheting of CBS News’ reputation and the tumultuous acquisition process related to Warner Bros. And, because this was Nikki Glaser, she found time to talk about masturbating to two Michael B. Jordans, Sean Penn morphing into a “sexy leather handbag” and George Clooney’s Nespresso commercials. Oh and the thing about how The Rock had a better chance of winning because The Paper wasn’t nominated, which totally stymied the room, was a great dad joke.
Whoever wrote the monologue with Nikki Glaser deserves a ton of credit even if there was no indication the same people had written anything else in the show. The only other time anybody got uncomfortable was when Wanda Sykes came out to present the stand-up special award, roasted each of the nominees (“Bill Maher, you give us so much. But I would love a little less.”) and declared that if the absent Ricky Gervais won for his latest airing of reheated grievances, she would accept on his behalf and thank God and the trans community. Gervais won. She did.
Note that the best way to guarantee a Golden Globe win is to be a former host in an embarrassing new category. In addition to Gervais, now a two-time stand-up winner, Amy Poehler won for best podcast and even she seemed a little embarrassed. The best take on the podcast category was Glaser’s Nicole Kidman/AMC-inspired tribute to all things podcast, concluding with the threat/warning/lament, “Podcasts. They’re just what we have now.”
As for the rest of Glaser’s performance? Well, she didn’t have much to do. There was a ping-pong-inspired “K-Pong Demon Hunters” musical number that Fran Drescher interrupted. It was bad, but intentionally so. She had some introductions. She came out at the end wearing a Spinal Tap hat, the only acknowledgement of Rob Reiner in the show.
After the monologue, we got far less of Glaser than of the announcers, who filled the awkward silence of stars taking multiple minutes to navigate a tiny ballroom to the stage with rumors, speculation and banalities. I kept waiting for somebody other than me to stand up and ask why, if they couldn’t stop mentioning the second season of Adolescence, it was competing and winning in the limited series category.
The telecast dragged 20 minutes beyond its three-hour boundaries, and that was after trimming the lifetime achievement awards — STOP DOING THAT, PRODUCERS! — and, for no discernible reason, the original score category. The only winners who got played off were the team behind foreign-language victor The Secret Agent. Given how much of the announcers’ patter was about how passionate Brazilian fans are, I hope the telecast’s producers hear from that entire fine nation about cutting off that category and that category alone.
Otherwise, there were some fine winners and fine speeches. Noah Wyle was sincere and likable. Rhea Seehorn was flustered and delightful. Rose Byrne explained that her partner Bobby Cannavale wasn’t there because he was purchasing a bearded lizard in New Jersey. Perpetual award winner Jean Smart said she was a “greedy bitch.” Jack Thorne advocated for eliminating hate, while Stellan Skarsgard told viewers to see movies in the cinema. Teyana Taylor had enough energy to power a city block.
Mostly, though…in conclusion…everything is fine.
Or hadn’t you heard?
Golden Globes producer Dick Clark Productions is owned by Penske Media Eldridge, a joint venture between Penske Media Corporation and Eldridge that also owns The Hollywood Reporter.
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