Hello all! Last night was “the biggest night in television” (no, not the Super Bowl), the 70th Annual Emmy Awards. It’s the night that Hollywood pats itself on the back for adapting books creating innovative and thought-provoking TV. So basically like the Dundies, but not at Chili’s and Steve Carell is only there sometimes. Lots of your favorite shows and people were nominated, even though I looked it up and unfortunately they couldn’t legally give all the awards to Law & Order: SVU. So here we are. Since I’m sure you all watched very attentively, I’ve broken this recap into sections instead of transcribing the entire blessed event. If you’d like a full transcript, I’m sure you can find it in Colin Jost’s sad, handwritten book entry from last night. Let’s do it.
The Hosts/The Opening
The show opens with Kate McKinnon and Kenan Thompson, and I’m immediately wondering if the hosting duties were passed off to them. Might be a better show! Instead of hosting, they naturally burst into a song called “We Solved It,” where they mock the fact that Hollywood is so proud of the limited strides they’ve made in diversity. They’re joined by people including Kristen Bell, Tituss Burgess, Sterling K. Brown, RuPaul, and Andy Samberg in the role of “sad straight white boy”.
I appreciate the song because it’s probably the most self-aware that Hollywood is going to get all night. Although, is the joke with Aidy Bryant pretending to harass Milo Ventimiglia a little awkward? Not saying I wouldn’t do it, but maybe not on TV? And considering the amount of actual sexual misconduct that goes on in Hollywood, perhaps it’s a little distasteful. Let’s ask Terry Crews!
The hosts finally come on stage and look visibly relieved that other people have killed 10 minutes for them. Only 2 hours and 50 minutes to go, guys! You’re doing amazing, sweeties! Hosts Michael Che and Colin Jost look very handsome in their tuxedos (those are tuxes, right? I know nothing about men’s suits so DON’T @ ME). I don’t know much about them in general since I’m usually already asleep out partying when SNL comes on. What I do know is that Scarlett Johansson has finally let Colin out of the friend zone, and that one time I saw my friend Jocelyn comment fire emojis on Michael Che’s Instagram, and she knows comedy.
The whole monologue is basically 70% Roseanne jokes and 30% calling out the diverse nominees. I have a feeling this diversity conversation is going to be the main theme of the show, at least until they start giving the awards to all the white people.
The best part of the monologue is clearly when the camera pans to Chrissy Teigen (Tie-gen), who visibly recoils. That will be good for about a week of memes.
The world is Chrissy, Chrissy is all of us.
I do appreciate that Michael and Colin finish up the monologue and jump right into announcing the awards. At this rate I can be asleep by 11pm, thank god.
So now let’s move on to who won the award show, literally and metaphorically.
The presenters/the audience. At first I was confused by the fact that the nominees were announced before the presenters even came out. I felt like I was taking crazy pills! But, as the show was wrapping up on time, I came to appreciate the fact that I didn’t have to listen to a C-list TV star stumble through Nikolaj Coster-Waldau’s name for 15 seconds. But yes, it did feel a little like I was having a stroke every time they did it.
Alex Borstein. BRAS ARE THE ENEMY! And she knows it. When Alex went up to accept her award for The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, she proudly marched on stage without that straitjacket for the chest we all call an undergarment. Now, I’m not saying I wanted to see her nipples, but if her nipples wanted to see us, we should have let them. Another round of applause for Mrs. Ungermeyer from The Lizzie McGuire Movie having a f*cking Emmy.
The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. Y’all, Amy Sherman-Palladino CLEANED UP last night. She won for Writing, Directing, and Outstanding Comedy Series, and she did it all while dressed as Britney Murphey’s character in Drop Dead Gorgeous. Hooray! I always want my Gilmore Girls crew to go on to great things! Plus, she said she’s going to put her Emmys in her panic room and now I know we need to be friends because I’m in the market for one of those. (Talk to me about conspiracy theories, fellas, I’m very stable.) She also called her husband the “Sid to my Nancy,” and her “consigliere” which makes me wonder if she was trying to send a subliminal message that her husband might kill her? Again, come to me for all your conspiracy theory needs.
Angela Bassett. Did you guys see Angela Bassett last night? She looked like a flawless angel who lives in an Instagram filter. She is SIXTY!! And damn it, she looks better than us all. She must have learned some tricks when she played a VooDoo priestess on American Horror Story, because there is clearly witchcraft at work here. Angela, if you’re reading this, drop your skin care regimen. But maybe take one look at Rachel Brosnahan’s name before announcing the winners? Just sayin’.
Leslie Jones. Leslie got to be a part of the best presenting duo with RuPaul, she was visibly shocked and delighted by the surprise proposal, and was SO vocal and supportive when Regina King won. I would watch an entire TV show that’s just Leslie Jones reacting to things. Tbh, that would probably be more entertaining than the Emmys. Isn’t that basically what SNL is nowadays?
Cute Couples. Um can we all take a minute to appreciate that Matthew Rhys’ accent ups his hotness factor by like, a lot? I’m obsessed. Plus, I love that he and Keri Russell are a couple and that she told him if he proposed she’ll “punch me clean in the mouth.”
Sandra Oh-My-God. Sandra may not have won her category (boo), but she brought her adorable parents to the ceremony with her. Her mom is a STAR, and when we saw her whispering to Sandra during Claire Foy’s speech I imagine she was saying “you’re still my person,” or maybe telling her she’s a big disappointment. Either way, her presence was appreciated.
Ted Danson. It is CRIMINAL that Ted is the only one who got nominated from The Good Place. I’m basically just using this space as my plea to all of you to watch that amazing, hilarious, and creative show and that we all collectively find a way to give D’Arcy Carden an award soon. Anyway, Ted’s still a winner in my book. Take me to the Bad Place, Ted! I’ll go there willingly with you.
The Maya Rudolph/ Fred Armisen bit. What WAS that? I feel like there were a lot of useless time wasters in this show, and this was definitely one of them. If you’re going to use Maya Rudolph, please do better, and DON’T dress her up as an American Girl Doll from the 1600s. Homegirl looked like Annabelle. Maya is a treasure and she should be treated as such.
Betty White. I mean, we all love Betty White, but once again I ask: what WAS that? I don’t think they gave her an award, unless I missed something? This was another time waster. When they were storyboarding the Emmys, did some drunk producer just say “This is where we’ll bring out Betty White and let her riff off script,” and everyone was too tired to argue? It’s the only thing that makes sense.
Will Ferrell. Another time waster! “Will, we have 10 more minutes on this telecast, and only two awards to give out. STALL!”
The announcers. Why didn’t they announce when winners were coming up on stage how many times the person had been nominated and how many times they had won? I like to know who is a first-timer and who is a greedy motherf*cker. Is that too much to ask?
The proposal! Leave it to the guy that directed The Oscars to know what will make a good show. Glenn Weiss got up there and shot his shot. Men, take notes. And whoever directed last night’s Emmys needs to be sending Glenn an edible arrangement or something today. And the kind with chocolate covered strawberries, not the cheap stuff.
Hannah Gadsby. In the 30 seconds or so that Hannah had to present, she hilariously summed up how women are feeling right now. Her take was pitch perfect. Michael & Colin WISH they were this funny. Netflix is about to see an absurd increase in Nanette viewings starting today.
Guys, is The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel really that good? I never watched it based on my mother’s poor review, but I’ve been noticing lately she only likes “good, clean fun,” so maybe I should be looking elsewhere for recommendations? Let me know what you all think if you watched!
All in all, the show was mercifully short and light on Justin Timberlake, which is really all I can ask for in an awards show. Thanks for reading!
Images: Giphy (5)
You know the
thing I just came up with old saying: show me a sexy man and I’ll show you a woman’s hurt feelings verified fuckboy. The men of This is Us were named Sexiest Cast Alive by People today, so in honor of that, I’d naturally like to tear each of these characters down dissect these award-winning studs, aka break down who’s a big bitch and who’s a bigger bitch. While maybe 3 people we all know my opinion on King of Fuckery Jack Pearson, there’s no denying that the other men on this show occasionally give him a run for his money . Here’s a ranking of the biggest fuckboys on This is Us.
Oh, Randall. It pains me to even put your name on this list, but rest assured it is as lowest ranking fuckboy of any recurring male TV character I’ve ever had the pleasure of viewing. The closest Randall has come to making me frown was the beginning of the season, when he briefly fixated on the idea of immediately adopting a baby boy despite his angel wife’s clear hesitation. Also, remember the boo-boo song?? I love Randall. You’re not a fuckboy, Randall—just maybe involve Beth a tiny bit more on the big life decision stuff (e.g. hunting down birth parents, new children, quitting your job, etc.).
Well, talk about making lemonade with life’s lemons. All this time, we’ve been searching for clues that it’s okay to hate Toby a little bit, and now I find out that his last name is basically DEMON. (Don’t @me about Matt Damon, that fucker is on the “knew about Harvey” list. If the Demon shoe fits…) Anyway, while Toby is initially the charming, larger-than-life self he needs to be to get Kate out of her shell, the act quickly becomes self-indulgent. Kate, while vocally encouraged to be herself, often doesn’t have room for her own choices and preferences in Toby Land. Also, bringing her mom to her first-ever show was a shitty thing of him to do, though the part about being Team Kate after was very cute, and should be used as a template for all conversations your partner ever has with anyone. Ultimately, I do believe a good heart/correct intentions are hiding behind that
fat suit ego, so as long as he’s good to Kate, he’s okay with me.
It truly pains me to list Kevin as fuckboy #2 on this list, a title I would’ve given to Mr. Demon even a few episodes back. However, his recent turn into painkiller addiction and callous treatment of new-lover/ex-wife Sophie have forced my hand. Obviously, no one ever cared much about his milquetoast love interest; almost everything about her seems too
boring blandly good to do anything but make Kevin look bad in comparison. Case in point: It would be too easy to just cringe-watch Kevin drunk-dial MDs from the comfort of his home—no, we get to do that with the backdrop of a Sophie-organized charity gala.
Sophie: You have ruined my life once before, and currently don’t treat me well. I would like to open with forgiveness.
Kevin: You are SMOTHERING me, Sophie!
Sidenote: I truly do feel for Kevin as he struggles with his addiction, but the fuckboy test draws clear lines. If you would not set a friend up on a date with this person for fear of how she would be treated, you’re probably dealing with a fuckboy. So you tell me: Is Kevin Pearson a fuckboy?
Finally: my #1 since day 1, Jack Pearson. Jack, like all true fuckboys, is very, very good when he’s good. Jack on a good day is filled with an endearingly manic need to make his family happy; on a bad day, he runs on equally breakneck speed toward their destruction, eyeing up secretaries and bringing a flask to work. Jack, even when well-intentioned, can be too wrapped up in the desire to solve his own latent daddy issues and have the PERFECT FAMILY RIGHT NOW, and this makes him vulnerable to overlooking the finer points of his family’s current needs (see: insistence on immediately having children, delivery room behavior, anything involving punching). What makes Jack Pearson such an infuriating fuckboy is how unbelievably happy he makes Rebecca, in between the bouts of screaming, drinking, and overriding her needs. But if you think about it, it’s exactly this kind of up-and-down that marks a fuckboy relationship? “Fireworks” are a thinly-veiled code for “rage issues,” and would the “spark” in this central Pearson relationship feel as strong if there weren’t always a tiny kernel of fear that he could fuck it up forever?
At the end of the day, I love each of these characters at least a little bit (but Randall most). But as any faithful viewer knows, any one of these men could be responsible for your next big cry (tonight on NBC at 9pm, can I have my money now?), and that makes every last one a fuckboy.