As I settled in to watch the 68th Golden Globes two Sundays ago—I was one of dozens who did so—I couldn’t help but notice an unusual occurrence. No, it wasn’t host Ricky Gervais’ scathing monologue, in which he told Johnny Depp that the trend of three-dimensions in movies applied to everything except the characters in The Tourist. Nor was it Robert De Niro’s awkward acceptance of a lifetime achievement award, which featured off-the-cuff immigration jokes and heavy silence from a crowd that is usually prone to courtesy laughs.
Instead, it was something that happens every year. As everyone at the ceremony gave the standard interviews and acceptance speeches (“It’s an honor just to be here, all the other nominees are so talented”), it appeared that television actors and producers actually meant it.
Maybe more incredibly, I found myself believing them.
In today’s gifted TV industry, just being nominated for these awards has to be a thrill— so many shows are simply too good, and choosing a winner in loaded categories has become less a matter of actual ability and more a choice based on personal preference.
Take the Globes’ Best Performance in a TV Drama category, which has gone to five different actors in the past five years. It’s impossible to say whether Jon Hamm plays Don Draper’s inner anguish better than Bryan Cranston plays Walter White, or if Michael C. Hall’s Dexter is a better creation than Hugh Laurie’s Gregory House. And, none of these actors actually won—the award went to Steve Buscemi for his work in Boardwalk Empire.
Any year in which Hamm, Cranston, Hall, and Laurie all lose out is remarkable. But imagine the problem voters face: it’s like going to Leo’s on a Thursday afternoon and having to choose between chicken fingers and … well, four other imaginary foods that are really good.
OK, so that’s not the best analogy. Yet it’s a great problem for TV, as premium networks like HBO and Showtime have challenged the traditional way of doing things. No longer are ratings paramount. Instead, it’s all about gaining a fervent audience, whether it happens to be small or large, and winning critical acclaim.
This means allowing writers and producers to create a show exactly as they see fit—no forcing in awkward-but-famous guest stars, no ridiculous plot lines for sweeps week. All this leads to better, deeper shows, with perhaps the greatest caveat being a bigger selection for viewers.
This new landscape has finally flipped the trend for actors also. No longer are they only interested in doing TV until they’re famous enough to make movies. Instead, many have gone the other way—Buscemi appeared in countless movies before crossing over to HBO. Alec Baldwin, the star of NBC’s 30 Rock, followed a similar path.
Television allows actors like Baldwin and Buscemi to develop their characters with more nuance over a series than they would be able to do so in a two -hour movie, showcasing their talent in ways they never have before.
The cinema has long been considered the primary venue for Hollywood’s most talented actors. With the advent of reality TV, especially, the disparity in respect between TV and movies has grown. Many consider TV the venue for the likes of Snooki and Kim Kardashian. To many, genuine talent should stay far away from the venue that glorfied “The Situation” and Paris Hilton.
The Golden Globes have proven that the stigma of TV as work for lesser actors no longer exists, and this, coupled with networks’ newfound interest in quality, can mean only one thing: many more years of complaining about the Golden Globes.
Very insightful. One can only wonder what Mr. Sutton is wearing right now.