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Thursday, Nov 26, 2009
At Hef's roast, Comedy Central bleeps every other word; Ellen DeGeneres does her best on the pointless Emmys; and "24" rocks hard.
Nov 7, 2001 |
Sunday, Nov. 4
Dear Diary:
After postponing them twice, changing the venue from the 6,000-seat Shriners Auditorium to the 2,000-seat Schubert Theater, declaring the overhead airspace a "no-fly" zone, barricading the streets, peppering nearby roofs with sharpshooters, deploying choppers, toning down the dress code, searching limos, passing guests through metal detectors and kicking off the show with not one but two rounds of disclaimers full of more unnecessary rationalizations than Calista Flockhart after a celery binge (one delivered by the announcer, who clarified that the show's "presence here does more than honor an industry, it honors the freedoms that set us apart as a nation and a people"; the other, via satellite from Toronto, by none other than Walter Cronkite, who explained that "this public celebration of the best in television" had been "altered considerably from its usual gala to accommodate that difficult melding of our deep grief for our losses, our concern for our safety and, as the president suggested and our nation agreed, life must go on in our American tradition"), the Academy of Television Arts and Sciences finally aired the Emmys tonight.
"Television, the great common denominator, has lifted our vision and reminded us that entertainment can help us heal," Cronkite added, somewhat gratuitously. After two months of benefit shows and tributes, we've become quite comfortable with seeing celebrities gather in front of cameras to express our feelings. It's fine. It's just that the justifications seem to call more attention to the attention than anything else.
Luckily, reminding us that entertainment can help us heal tonight was host Ellen DeGeneres, who eased some of the discomfort right away by welcoming "security guards, Secret Service personnel and all the wonderful TV stars we love so much who are watching from home" to "the 53rd, 54th and 55th Emmy Awards." Her loopy and hesitant brand of humor and good-natured guilelessness lent the perfect combination of levity and honesty to a show that could have devolved into something as cringy and maudlin as one of the recent star-studded benefits. But Ellen managed to make even industry in-jokes seem inclusive, patriotic and universal, as in, "I think it's important for us to be here, because they can't take away our striving for excellence, our creativity, our joy -- only network executives can do that."
Hollywood has finally figured out how to incorporate the tragedy into an evening's entertainment: Do whatever it is you do, just make sure you boil down the message to something along the lines of "Isn't it great to live in a country where we can do this" or "This is what our country is all about" or "This is why they hate us -- aren't we cute?"
"I felt it was important for me to be here tonight," Ellen said, "because what would bug the Taliban more than seeing a gay woman in a suit surrounded by Jews?" -- a quip that first appeared in danger of wearing thin back when it was used to validate the VH1 Fashion Awards telecast in October. Lately, it seems that no ritual commemoration of inconsequence is so cheesy, shallow or insincere that it can't be served as an example of "our American tradition." Not that this was the case tonight during the very tasteful Emmy awards telecast -- but the New York Friar's Club is roasting Hugh Hefner later. Stay tuned -- it's filthy and patriotic!
Reminding us of what can happen when there isn't an international crisis to dampen the mood, however, Bradley Whitford, who won the best supporting actor award for his portayal of Josh Lyman on "The West Wing," came across like a beauty-pageant contestant entering the final five. There's nothing like watching an award-winning actor nearly burst with the sort of ostentatious family love that makes viewers at home wonder if maybe we're missing something, emotionally.
"I want to thank my children for their miraculous selves and for saving my wife and I from terminal self-involvement!" cried Whitford, an outburst that Ellen mercifully followed up with a deadpan, "Aw, come on!"
"The West Wing" picked up eight awards tonight -- more than any other show-- including best drama. A jittery-looking Aaron Sorkin notably lost the best writing in a drama series Emmy to "Sopranos" writers Robin Green and Mitchell Burgess, who thanked him for not winning and all around gave the most unpleasant speech of the night.
"I hope I'm not the only Soprano to win tonight," Green giggled, "because it's going to be hell going back on that plane. It's scary enough to fly already." "The Sopranos" went on to receive three awards, including best actor and actress in a drama series for James Gandolfini and Edie Falco.
DeGeneres maintained her light touch throughout, introducing Steve Martin as Leslie Nielsen, putting on a swan dress like the one Björk wore to the Academy Awards, venturing out into the publicists' "holding area" and the Siberian press tent to mingle with the media proles. It wouldn't be an awards show without at least one swipe at the suits. I liked actress Jean Smart's tribute to David Angell, the "Frasier" executive producer who was killed aboard one of the hijacked planes on Sept. 11, and that she took the opportunity to upbraid network executives' for their ageism, saying, "The next time a writer with a few gray hairs comes into your office ... remember David Angell."
HBO's "Sex and the City" beat out four popular network shows for best comedy series, a first for a cable show. "Everybody Loves Raymond's" Patricia Heaton won best actress in a comedy series, and was the only winner to thank the armed forces, even after the tribute to USO entertainers. When Judy Davis won for best actress in a television movie -- but like many of tonight's winners, was not there to accept -- Steve Martin rushed the stage and grabbed the statuette from Martin Sheen's hand, crying, "I'm sorry, I didn't win in my category and I see all these Emmys going begging ...!"
These were the sorts of moments that made up for others, such as Television Academy chairman Bryce Zabel's declaration that "to have given up would have been defeat" (maybe it's time to table that metaphor) and reminder that "in such challenging times, these cultural touchstones become more important." Like "Everybody Loves Raymond"!
"Let history remember," Zybel proclaimed grandly, "that the 53rd Emmy Awards stood up to fear and hate and celebrated the American spirit" -- and, of course, as always, collected that $3 million from CBS.
Monday, Nov. 5
What exactly do they mean by mature audiences?
After tributes, benefits and now the Emmy Awards have made it clear that overly long, on-camera stroke-fests starring folks the Taliban love to hate are what freedom is all about, the New York Friar's Club roasts Hugh Hefner -- and gets Jimmy Kimmel of "The Man Show" to host.
Alan King introduces Hef as "the man who made jacking off a national pastime, a man who thinks the early-bird special is eating [BLEEP] before 6 o'clock," pretty much setting the tone for the evening -- a tone that will be high-pitched, piercing, intermittent and familiar to anyone who has ever spent time with a dying cellphone battery. This show has more beeps in it than a "Road Runner" cartoon.
