That was the worst bit I’ve ever seen on an award show.
Rob Lowe and Snow White are sending a thank you bouquet of flowers to the Television Academy as I write this.
Sunday night’s Emmy Awards should have been one of the finest telecasts in recent years. Between its array of incredibly deserving winners, handful of surprises, and really fun cast reunions, it generally was. That is, if you were able to somehow edit out everything to do with that crass and insufferable money countdown that became the night’s recurring and, frankly, only bit.
Host Nate Bargatze is a great comedian and one of Saturday Night Live’s best hosts in recent seasons—and a person who no less than seven people sent me texts on Sunday night asking, “Who is this?” It’s a shame, then, that he’s now going to be attached to that atrocious, insufferable gimmick.
At the top of the show, Bargatze announced that the night was starting with a $100,000 promised donation to the Boys & Girls Club of America. Cute! Love it!
But for every second an award winner’s speech went over 45 seconds, $1,000 would be deducted from that total. And for every second under 45 seconds, $1,000 would be added. Gross! Ew! No!
The reason for this stunt, Bargatze said in interviews, is that there’s always a demand for speeches to be shorter in award shows, so this was a way to incentivize that. As the night wore on and more and more people realized just what a misfire this idea was—and, more than that, became exhausted by it as a crutch for the only bit of humor Bargatze brought to the night—the whole gambit announced itself as a flop.
Let it be known that the notion of donating money to the Boys & Girls Club of America is a noble thing, and there should be more ingenuity in figuring out how to capitalize on a night where the richest and most successful people in Hollywood are congratulating themselves to also carry a charitable component.
But maybe charity shouldn’t be turned into a game show that misinterprets the entire point of the event it is a part of, smugly shaming people at the expense of actual philanthropy. And that’s not even to say how plainly unfunny the whole thing ending up being.
I will never understand why people who so clearly don’t like award shows end up being in charge of award shows.
The idea that the key to a successful telecast that people are watching to find out who wins what awards is to…make the awards as short or nonexistent as possible (???) is deranged. It would be like hiring me to produce the Super Bowl and me saying, “What I want to see less of is the scoring of the points, and please don’t show any impressive plays. If you do, I will rob the American Cancer Society.”
You know what is the only memorable part of any award show, the moments that live on for decades or, in the modern world, go viral and make headlines? What people say in their speeches. It’s the whole point of the thing.
During Sunday night’s awards, there was a whole introduction to this Boys & Girls Club idea that raised the issue of brevity being paramount, not just for the purpose of keeping the money countdown from depleting but for good television. And then the show proceeded to have back to back segments where presenter Jennifer Coolidge rambled aimlessly and JB Smoove waxed on for so long that by the time he threw back to Bargatze, Bargatze looked as if he had no idea what was going on anymore.
At one point, Tina Fey apologized for how long her presenter bit was, at the expense of speeches being cut. There was even a joke about the In Memoriam segment going long, and how that might affect the Boys & Girls Club total.
The message sent to the nominees in the room and the fans watching at home was: This doesn’t matter. If you win, it doesn’t matter. If you present, it doesn’t matter. And if you say thank you to people, they don’t matter, either. Be like John Oliver, who has so many Emmys that he could actually play along with the bit, and barely say hello once you hit the stage and get off quicker before anyone even registers that you were there. For charity, of course.
If it doesn’t matter, then why would be bothering to watch this telecast?
And what was the byproduct of all of this? People winning Emmys feeling insecure about actually delivering thank yous to the people that they love and messages that mean something to them, and which viewers at home would respond to as well.
The director of Adolescence apologized before he thanked his dead relatives for how they inspired him, because he knew he was running over. Hannah Einbinder, who finally won Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Comedy for Hacks, felt compelled to say she’d pay the difference if her speech ran over, just so she could deliver her gratitude to the people she works with and make a political statement.
Owen Cooper, who is just 15, won Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Limited Series for his television debut in Adolescence and gave a speech peppered with adorable gems about his youth, being new to the industry, and being gobsmacked to be on the Emmys stage. Thank goodness they didn’t overwhelm him with the money countdown during his speech, because we would have missed all of that.
Maybe the bit made for one good joke at the top of the show, because of its surprise factor. But it became so clear so fast that it wasn’t an inspiring act, but one rooted in ugly shaming.
You worked hard and were supported by people who mean a lot to you in order to win this award? Shame on you for bothering to say thank you, when if you were silent you could clown around with this gimmick and make some money for charity. And are you a viewer who loves these shows and these actors and want to bask in their wins? Tough luck. If you want to hear their full acceptance speeches, you’re complicit in taking money away from these children.
Mostly, this whole thing was so aggravating because of how pointless it was. The best parts of Sunday’s telecast were, obviously, the winners and their speeches—and the bits that went long.
I don’t begrudge a lengthy Jennifer Coolidge or Tina Fey bit, because we are lucky enough to have a Jennifer Coolidge and a Tina Fey bit. The night had several cast reunions—The Gilmore Girls, Everybody Loves Raymond, and Law & Order: SVU—that were delightful because the stars actually got to talk and interact.
And the winners that ignored or apologized about the 45-second rule gifted us the best moments of the night. Cristin Milioti, a television MVP, was an exuberant solar flare of joy when she won Outstanding Lead Actress in a Limited Series. Who would have wanted Lorne Michaels or Stephen Colbert to edit down their acceptances after their consequential years? And the speeches given by Jeff Hiller, Noah Wyle, Katharine LaNasa, Tramell Tillman? A delight.
This was, if you’re able to zoom out from this egregious stunt that dominated the stories, a stellar Emmy Awards.
Before the show, I glanced at the nominees and realized that, in most categories, it would have been impossible to be angry if any of the nominees won. And the night had a bunch of fun surprises, chiefly Hiller winning Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Comedy for Somebody Somewhere. I was jumping up and down and cheering in my living room, and could hear the faint sound of every gay man in Manhattan doing the same.
Bargatze’s opening, inspired by his SNL George Washington sketches, was a spot-on skewering on the changing landscape of television. He even made a spectacular dig at CBS, while hosting a show on CBS.
And the fact that Stephen Colbert followed up the sketch by entering the stage to a standing ovation? And later had the crowd chanting “Stephen! Stephen!” That’s the kind of truth to power that we support. Not the dystopian fart of dangling a charity donation in front of nominees that hinged on their behavior, like some sort of smarmy Hunger Games Mary Poppins school marm.
In the end, the money countdown was obviously in the negative, because it’s deranged to ask people to keep the biggest moments in their career to a tight 45 seconds. There will, Bargatze ultimately announced, still be a $350,000 donation made to the Boys & Girls Club in spite of that.
My pitch for next year: extra money is given for every extra second that we let our favorite actors who we tuned in to see talk. Or, maybe, just have a basic understanding of what these shows are for and why we watch.
The post The Emmys Charity Stunt Was the Worst Awards Bit Ever appeared first on The Daily Beast.
