This was the year the Emmy Awards were going to reward viewers. With ratings in a downward spiral, producers planned to "time-shift" -- meaning much of Sunday night's ceremony would be taped in advance, allowing editors to abbreviate speeches by winners in less-than-star-studded categories. In other words, you'd see the best-director winner, but you might not get to hear her thank her accountant.

It was a smart strategy, but one that didn't factor in one of Hollywood's most powerful forces: bruised egos. Endless grumbling from the town's creative players forced show-runners to revert back to form, which means another night jam-packed with 28 presentations, most of which are about as thrilling as a documentary on the sex lives of worms.

I'll be the first to admit that writers and directors deserve the lion's share of credit -- or blame -- for what ends up on TV. They should get their moment in the sun, most appropriately during an L.A. hotel rooftop party with an open bar and little wienies. The masterminds behind the scenes may cook up the murderous twists on "Dexter" and the solid one-liners on "30 Rock," but in real life they have the charisma of a test pattern.

We tune in to awards shows to see the celebs -- what they're wearing, who they're dating, what they'll blubber when their names are called. If Matthew Weiner had the looks and charm of his "Mad Men" star Jon Hamm, we might feel differently. He doesn't.

Just consider our annual predictions. We've never found enough space or passion to analyze the "lesser" races -- and we're not about to start now.

If these movers and shakers really cared about their medium, they'd humbly admit they're second bananas on the award circuit and gladly shorten their public bows. I mean, it's not like they've been shipped off to purgatory (aka the Emmys' Creative Arts Ceremony). Instead, they've all but guaranteed another tedious evening.

Of course, I reserve the right to change my mind once the academy introduces a category for Best TV Critic. I already have a tuxedo -- and a 10-minute acceptance speech -- ready to go.

njustin@startribune.com • 612-673-7431