In the immortal words of Sgt Hulka: Lighten up, Francis

Some people like award shows. Leave them alone.

Thanks to my eagle eyed, 80s-movie-loving readers, who let me know that I totally whiffed the reference above… Francis from Stripes is not Francis from Pee Wee’s Big Adventure, though they both definitely needed to lighten up. Correction made, and mea culpa!

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Last night, I let my pop culture fangirl flag fly high, complete with family Golden Globes watching (the kids turned off the video games and let me use the “big TV!”), a highly competitive winners prediction poll between three of us (I won by one point!), wildly loud cheering for every winner from Beef, The Bear, Succession, and The Holdovers in particular, some live threading (not as enjoyable as live tweeting circa 2015 but I tried), some mild red carpet interview snarking, and just a wee bit of fashion commentary.

When I woke up today, I scrolled my feeds to digest the morning-after Red Carpet recaps, to scroll the commentary on winners and should-have-been-winners, to dig into the chatter about all that PDA, and to be sure I wasn’t the only one cringing at the bomb of an opening monologue.

(I definitely was not).

What else did I find?

Not just the cleverer-than-I-could-be commentary that I expected; but a whole lot of people carping about how dare we have a celebration when there’s terrible things in the world going on.

The world's turning into shit while you're winning hollow awards! one person quipped.

Sigh.

You think art and entertainment and celebration have no place in the world during wartime? When things are difficult? When we’re struggling with pain and hatred, bigotry and global unrest?

I will counter that that’s when art and entertainment and celebration matter most.

From Crying Through Cabaret

The big winners last night may not have been important to you, but they all had themes that were important to me: The horrific impact of nuclear weapons — even when used to stop the existential threat of Nazism. The seedy underbelly of billionaire media dynasties. A blue-collar restaurant family working through disfunction through the joy of service. An unlikely trio of broken souls finding comfort in each other over a lonely Christmas break. A cautionary tale about burying emotions until it becomes full-borne rage. A woman learning to fall in love with herself in a world where men continue to fail her.

These are stories worth telling.

More big winners: An industry providing continued employment for hard-working writers, performers, and tens of thousands of below-the-line film crew members whose names you don’t know — unless you know them personally, in which case you probably also know what a horrible year 2023 was for them and that celebrating some of their successes really meant something last night.

I don’t want to overreach with my points here; I just deleted an entire list of great movies made during wartime.

(Spoiler: We are always at war, and if we’re not, someone definitely is. It sucks.)

Of course, I understand that at the heart of the criticism is a personal perspective that is understandable: I am feeling sad about the world right now, so this feels superficial and unimportant to me.

I’m sorry about this.

I’m sorry we live in a world that can so easily steal our happiness.

I spend my life trying to make it a better one, best I can.

So then, maybe you can understand my personal perspective, which is that when I feel sad about the world, losing myself in grief too long does nothing of value for me.

Losing myself in great stories, however — it’s a balm. I need it.

Even the greatest activists rest. They restore. They find moments of joy.

But you know, no one should have to prove their social justice bona fides to justify a few hours at a theater or a day at a ballpark or a night home with the family watching a couple dozen hefty gold statues find new homes with talented people.

Oh how I love The Bear!

The pomp of award shows, the glamour, the sparkles, the gossip, the plunging necklines, the fashion don’ts — it’s delicious. It’s indulgent as hell. It’s a ridiculously shiny candy apple, and maybe I know its placement in the center of the shop window is intended to pull me in and take all my money, but I’m okay with that.

I love it. I devour it.

It takes nothing away from you to let other people love it too.

Gratitude Notes:

To all the friends and followers who know I love Christopher Guest’s classic Synchronized Swimmers video on SNL and have forwarded me this link so I can bookmark and watch it any time I need to laugh. There isn’t a week that goes by that someone in my family doesn’t say, “You’re not mad! You’re just pointing at him! I know you, I know you…”

Read it Forward:

Sari Botton

’s

Oldster Magazine

which is definitely not just for “Oldsters.” Enjoy interviews with everyone from Michael Musto to Elizabeth Gilbert to people you haven’t necessarily heard of but will love. The one thing they have in common: Reminding us that whether you’re 30 or 50 or 79, your best years aren’t necessarily behind you.

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