He'd headed west 'cause he felt that a change would do him good. See some old friends
good for the soul.
Right now I'm singing Bob Seger's Hollywood Nights. I'm not pulling a Risky Business and running around the house half-naked (I save that for Night Moves), and I'm not announcing my relocation to L.A. (yet). What I'm doing is getting ready to watch the Golden Globes on NBC, because no matter how many deadlines, assignments or appointments I may have, there is always time to watch a celebrity make an ass of himself.
I love the awards season and its all-you-can-see buffet of red carpet interviews conducted by the Rivers-duo, with their unmistakable, patented you look fabulous persona. Yes, awards season is all about Ralph Lauren, Versace, Armani and Yves Saint Laurent. Oh, and cleavage. There is also a lot of cleavage.
But awards season means much more to me than red carpets, thank you speeches and eye candy. It's a chance to look back at the year of entertainment and give an annual shout-out to art and creativity - two things that often get overlooked in our world that is (apparently) powered by terror, Starbucks and Fox News.
The Golden Globes, voted on by the Hollywood Foreign Press, are more entertaining than the Academy Awards because they are handed out to the outstanding performances in both television and film and are done so in more specific categories. I particularly respect the fact that the HFP separates comedy and musical from drama when handing out bling for best actor and actress.
Now, before you Oscar-loyalists start ripping apart my column, hear me out. I respect Oscar. I love Oscar. But Oscar gives little respect to comedic performances. I guess I still hold a grudge toward the 2004 Murray snub.
Back in '04, Bill Murray was nominated for Best Actor for his leading role in Sophia Coppola's Lost in Translation. Sean Penn ended up with the statue for his performance in Mystic River. I remember the moment quite well. While Penn was receiving a mass amount of congrats-hugs and handshakes, my eyes were fixed upon the losing reactions of Bill Murray and Johnny Depp. As Depp gracefully clapped his hands and smiled, knowing that his best performances were yet to come, Murray, knowing that was his finest moment, did quite the opposite. He sat in his velvet-covered seat with a look of extreme disappointment. He knew that was his chance.
When Penn's name was announced, a slight sting had set in, ending the anticipation of what could have been the perfect end to a career-topping performance.
Murray is a fine comedic actor. His characters Bob Wiley in What About Bob? and Phil The Talent Connors in Groundhog Day will always make me smile. But at that particular moment, Murray's skills were overpowered by dismay. He couldn't act as if he was enjoying the rejection, and for that, I respected him greatly.
Penn's time had come. Penn had built an impressive resume starting with eating some pizza and talkin' about Cuba in Fast Times at Ridgemont High to an avenging father in Mystic River. But it was unfortunate that only one of these fine actors could win the award. If the Academy could take some notes on the Golden Globe Awards, then maybe musicals and comedies could get some much deserved respect and quit being dismissed as some irrelevant category that gets overlooked by the self-absorption of Hollywood drama.
I guess I value laughter, and lately, it's hard to come by. President Bush's speeches used to make me laugh, now they make me want to stick my head in the microwave. But as far as both of these issues are concerned, I have the slight feeling that I'm not alone. How many times have you called up your best friends on a Friday night and said, Grab a bottle of the Captain and a bag of pretzels 'The English Patient' is on HBO tonight!? Very few, if any. But I'd be willing to bet that hundreds of you film buffs out there have seen Swingers more than once. Point being: Comedy is therapeutic, and highly important.
I love many genres of film. Hell, I once took a date to see Angela's Ashes. This isn't about a distaste for drama or my infatuation with Murray. What this is about is Oscar's obtuse frame of mind as to why people watch and make films and where laughter falls into that formulaic mess.
So thank you, Golden Globes, for your respect to comedy.
And while I'm at it, thank you Master P (my agent). Tyra Banks, I couldn't have done this without you. But most importantly, thank you Bob Seger, for those Hollywood nights in those Hollywood hills. She was looking so right. In her diamonds and frills.
- Trace Hacquard is a graduate student in the E.W. Scripps School of Journalism. Send him an e-mail at lh303403@ohiou.edu.
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