The Golden Globes: Best tressed
I hope Entertainment Tonight’s venerable fashionisto, Stephen Cojocaro (Cojo) took note of the hairstyles last evening, in addition to the yards of fabric and bling at the Golden Globes.
I have never seen anything quite like it.
The men all looked like they’d been to the Ottawa Science and Technology Museum and got stuck in the static machine. Most of the aging testo-stars — at least the ones who still have some hair — were coiffed and teased to the max, presumably to hide the bald spots: Al Pacino, the mad scientist, with locks in full frond, Tom Hanks overdosed on relaxant and Colin Firth. (Mark Darcy, what has become of you?)
In the actress category, there was Annette Bening.
“Did she look at herself in the mirror after the hairdresser got through with her?” I asked Scott between wine gulps. “I hope she didn’t tip.”
Maybe she and her dottering oldie, Warren Beatty knocked knees in the bathroom before the festivities. Or maybe she just didn’t have time for a comb out.
The other thing I noticed was the state of codginess of the audience. It was pretty evident that some of those beauties should have thought twice before marrying men ten or twenty or thirty years their senior. I mean, Catherine Zita-Jones, Grace Hightower, Bening, and let’s not forget that four-year-old that Pacino had on his arm. Hope they all invested heavily in Depends.
I thought the show was fun, though Ricky Gervais’ jokes fell flat for the most part. There’s nothing worse than being a standup comic in front of a drunken Vegas audience, and that’s pretty much what the Rickster got last night. Sure, he was mean. What did they expect? That’s what Ricky Gervais does.
De Niro was pretty funny, especially when he called out the foreign press for being paid off with Cher tickets to nominate the awful Burlesque.
And it was a good night for the gays.
Christian Bale gave the best drunk performance. I think the director was a little tipsy, too, because he kept cutting to the seat-fillers while the stars were doing lines in the bathroom.
But my favorite moment was Claire Danes accepting an award for her HBO movie, Temple Grandin, about an autistic genius who invented a better method to send cows to the slaughter. She sweetly thanked Temple who was there in her shit-kickers, cowgirl clothes and a purse full of jello and yoghurt. God bless her. Wonder if Charlie Sheen hit on her.
All round, a good time, as always. Who cares if it was cheesy? That’s what the Golden Globes does best.