The Globes were fun and well paced this year, though I have a suspicion that lip readers had more laughs than the rest of us.
I was amazed Meryl Streep could drop a string of F-bombs long enough to justify that extended bleeeeeeeeep in her acceptance speech. The network censors gave the silent treatment to so many presenters and winners that I lost count. Ricky Gervais's introduction for Antonio Banderas and Salma Hayek cut out so long that I checked my TV's speakers.
If they had turned down the sound on ugly jokes rather than naughty language I wouldn't have had to hear that Justin Bieber/paternity test/turkey baster gag. And I mean GAG. For putting that unpleasant image in my mind, I'd like to thwack Gervais repeatedly with Brad Pitt's cane.
As for the awards, no huge surprises.
Movieland nostalgia scored big, with "The Artist," a comic love letter to silents-era Hollywood and Martin Scorsese's early-cinema fantasy "Hugo" winning a lot of love.
carrying off three big prizes, "The Artist" was the night's biggest winner, which shows you how widely scattered the prizes were. This was a very promiscuous awards ceremony. The voters loved everyone -- a little bit. So anticipate a similarly diffuse Oscars ceremony.
In the meantime, I'm eagerly awaiting an album of Felicity Huffman/William H. Macy duets.
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