Could anything be more sickening than a Hollywood awards ceremony? An arena full of pampered, self-congratulating TV and film folk all slapping each other on the back and sniffing each other’s bottoms, telling themselves how wonderful they all are and handing out little trophies. Best Film. Best Actor. Best Director. Best Lighting. Best Trousers. Best Smell. Best Use Of A Windmill. How thunderingly dull.
So I say bravo to Ricky Gervais in his role as host of the Golden Globes for shaking this self-satisfied collective up a little bit. Which is exactly what he was hired to do, of course. Having Gervais as your host then acting affronted when he tells jokes that skirt around the borders of comfortability is a bit silly; like inviting Pope Benedict round then saying “Ooh, he’s a bit more Catholic than we were hoping…..”
Gervais’s turn seems to have split the audience, with many thinking he has “gone too far”. For me, it was a welcome return of a comedian who has slipped a little too much into the comfortable world of Hollywood for my liking, become a little bit too chummy with celebrity. This is back to the sort of humour at which he excels: making us uncomfortable, blurring the line between laughing and cringing. And who were his targets? Charlie Sheen, Robert Downey Jr, Bruce Willis, “gay Scientologist actors” (can’t think he who means), Mel Gibson and others. All fair game if you ask me – these people are, for the most part, ridiculous and thoroughly deserving of the wisecracks.
Well done Mr Gervais. I approve.