Hollywood Reckoning at the Golden Globes®

Sarah Paulson, Amanda Peet

Photo by Trae Patton/NBC - © 2018 Trae Patton/NBC - Image courtesy gettyimages.com

Maybe it started with Harvey Weinstein. When word of his crimes finally broke, and he was kicked out of every awards season place that he had held so dear.

Maybe it had begun even earlier, when Patricia Arquette had so bravely taken to the Oscar stage to declare that women needed equal pay for equal work.

All I knew, as I settled in for my regular awards-season spot (comfy couch, pizza at hand, three screens tuned to the various red carpet goings-on so I didn’t miss anything), was that something had REALLY changed in this town.

Or maybe it was just that Hollywood was sick to the teeth of Donald Trump and constantly being lied to. Maybe it was all of these elements, swirling around in our Hollywood ether, affecting us.

The direction late a few nights before the show was to “wear black” in support of the #MeToo movement, and those who had been harassed by those in power. And I had expected a couple of folks wearing black, here or there.

What I completely DID NOT expect was that EVERYONE, and I mean everyone, would be wearing black. Some with a new organization’s pins (#Time’sUp) on their lapels, some not. Everyone. Wearing. Black. Women. Men.

From the first Manolo-laden foot on the red carpet to the last, the black just kept coming. And there was more. Most of the women had also decided to bring as their +1 an “activist” from some cause they believed in. Most of these choices were also women.

So we had the movie or TV star in black, with a woman activist at their side, also in black. And instead of the insipid “What are you wearing?” nonsense that normally blights every red carpet (Thank you, Joan Rivers), we had gracious host Ryan Seacrest allowing the star to speak for a few minutes, then the activist next to them to speak about their cause for a few minutes.

We had Debra Messing, long selected as one of the top-dressed on many red carpets, a style icon by people whose business it is to do this stuff, speaking to Giuliana Rancic on E!’s red carpet. E!, mind you, had just let one of its best anchors (Catt Sadler) walk out the door when she learned her lesser-skilled male cohost was being paid much more than she was. Messing didn’t miss a beat. “Why isn’t Catt Sadler here? I miss her. She deserves to be paid as much as her male cohost.”

To Giuliana’s credit, she let Messing talk (although it was edited out of the E! feed later).

But these stars were NOT messing around. They were here to call out injustice at every turn. This wasn’t an “ice-bucket challenge” they were participating in here. This was very real.

At the awards themselves, women kept swarming the stage, winning awards. Big Little Lies, produced by the female team of Reese Witherspoon and Nicole Kidman who created their company to present more female-centric stories, took boatloads of awards.

Natalie Portman, presenting the award for Best Director with Ron Howard, introduced the five names by saying, “Here are the all-male directors.” Howard gave a nervous laugh.

And then, after a night of so much forward female movement, we had Oprah Winfrey’s soul-stirring speech. Many afterward jumped on it as a potential run for president. (Perhaps it was.) But what I heard was a call to action, that had already been foreshadowed by everything gone before. Oprah spoke of how change happens, and how it is essential for each of us to own our part in that.

Essentially, we are done with the abuse and the inequal pay and the disrespect. We are DONE.

I, like many of other women, no doubt, sobbed through Oprah’s moving speech. Celebrities, on their feet, at several times within it. (NOT a normal occurrence.)

I can’t exactly pinpoint when it started, but one thing was crystal clear as the last black-clad star left the Golden Globes on this evening in January: Hollywood had changed. And it’s not going back. #TimesUp

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The Golden Globes and the Glory of Ryan Seacrest

It's hard out there for a red-carpet interviewer.

Frankly, most people suck at this job. The newbies, still green behind the ears (I'm looking at you, Ben Lyons) tend to wax synchophantic and get all swoony over the celebs. (Although with the way that E!'s Giuliana Ransic was creaming her jeans over Brad and Angie waving at her, you'd be hard-pressed to remember she's been around awhile.)

Most tend to fall into the vapid vat of "ooh, celebrities, aren't they pretty?" with an occasional twinge of "how does this help my career?" thrown in (Ross Matthews). Which is where the whole "What are you wearing?" debacle originated. When in doubt, ask about their dress.

We can thank (or hate forever) Joan Rivers for that. Rivers, easily the worst red-carpet interviewer in history, who in addition to being vengeful and spiteful and mean, had the annoying habit of forgetting who these damn people were, what they'd been in, what relevance they had to anything, and being long schooled in the comedy of "talk about what you know" started asking about the dresses.

Now, that's all anyone gloms on to. Props in this awards season so far go to Melissa Leo. "What are you wearing?" "My tux," she said non-plussed. I loved her for that.

No, it's a very difficult balance a red-carpet interviewer must walk. If you don't care, you're Joan Rivers. If you care too much, you're Star Jones, and asking everyone to come on The View or ogle her wedding plans.

Truthfully, the red carpet has not been a safe place to walk since Steve Kmetko and Jules Asner held court. Now, THEY knew how to ask the right questions. They knew how to keep the celebritydom in check. Since they've been gone, we've had a vast wasteland of interviewers, most caught up in dress mania, few giving anything of substance at all.

Sam Rubin must be commended as a good interim host. He asks good questions, but even he tends to the fake and air-kissy.

What a surprise, a revelation, even, it was this weekend to see the "my God, this man is everywhere!" host, Ryan Seacrest doing a bang-up job on the red carpet for the Globes. After awhile, I had the unusual sensation of thinking, I really want to hear what Ryan asks this one. Never a comment out of place, never a synchophantic note. All was in order.

He not only appropriately juggled each celebrity (apologizing to Natalie Portman for making a pregnant woman walk up some stairs), he made the most of every moment: bringing Jimmy Fallon and Jason Segal up to sing a song. He knew people's credits (whether because he actually knew, or because he had a great producer whispering in his ear, I don't care—he was on it). It felt real.

I realized when watching him that Ryan Seacrest on the red carpet is the new breed of celebrity interviewer. He made them feel comfortable, being asked inane questions. He even got interesting answers out of them. Because of that, he made us feel comfortable watching, instead of wanting to throw something at the TV. I was grateful to him for that.

Whatever the tenuous balance is: between curiosity about things that are none of our business, and learning more about upcoming projects, and asking how someone is feeling at that moment, Seacrest was really the best in a very long time. In fact, during awards shows, I am normally a maniac with the remote, madly switching back and forth between E! and TVGuide and NBC and whoever else is covering it, because none of them are doing it very well.

Seacrest changed all that. The social-media-friendly celeb interviewer really is on to something here with the tenor and caliber of his interviewing, and I'm truly looking forward to his SAG and Oscar coverage.

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On Humility, or an Open Letter to Mo'Nique

Dear Mo'Nique:

I heard about your recent refusal to appear at all these award shows coming up, even though you are nominated.

http://goldderby.latimes.com/

You stomp and scream and cry, demanding that you didn't get paid enough for the film, and if you have to traipse to all these things, you wanna get paid for it. And you know, it's an understandable request.

But let me just school you for a minute in the way things work in Hollywood, since you don't really seem to get it. And, in the spirit of your character in Precious (and no, I'm not adding the damn pretentious title after it), let me be straight-up and honest about it. Brutally honest.

Here's what it is. You may think, as an actress, that the goal is the work, to get a deeply moving role, blah blah. That may be true. However, the reality is also that in the overall scheme of things, NOTHING and I mean NOTHING, that you do: no talk show, no other role, no stage work, no nothing will help your career and image in the industry as much as winning an Academy Award.

This should be obvious, apparently it isn't to you.

Every time after that, in every ad, every magazine article, every everything, it's going to say: Oscar-winning actress Mo'Nique in big, bold letters. Just let that sink into your brain for awhile.

Because here's the thing. Here's the reason I'm writing this letter to you. THAT IS within your grasp. Right now, with this role in Precious, you nearly have the gold plate inscribed. I promise you.

BUT to get from here to there, there are a lot of steps along the way. And tantrumy diva behaviour might hold up, even for this role. Might. Right now, from where I stand, it looks like you're on a crash course to self-destruction.

So maybe you don't really get the Hollywood scene. Trust me with this too, this is the closest you are ever gonna get to this gold. People have a once-in-a-lifetime shot at this usually, and this is yours. So listen well.

You may've previously played the actress game, which involves auditioning, and getting roles, and doing those roles. Etc. This awards-show circuit is a whole other side of the Hollywood machinery.

Here is how it is properly played, for those skilled and in the know. And you can choose to ignore this advice, but trust me, sister, this right now is your shot. I'm saving you years of learning.

With a powerhouse role like this, the award accolades start coming in early. You get nominated at everything from the New York Critics Circle to the Golden Globes, if you're lucky. The BAFTAs. The LA Critics. And the more of these you choose to go to, and smile and nod, and accept your award, the more a part of the industry you will appear. Those IN the industry will say to themselves, she's not a crazy diva actress. She's a respected actress and we want to give her an Oscar for that, because she is playing our game. And further down the line, they will HIRE you because they remember that you were the one winning all the awards.

All those uphill battles you've been fighting as an actress go away because you become a known quantity in their minds. Now, you may jump up and down, screaming about what a great actress you already are, and while that may be true, Terrence Howard had it exactly right. You may have won over your friends, family and fans. Those aren't the people who get you JOBS.

Right now, just the bad press you have already have about this matter may have derailed any respect you might've had in the industry (talk show be damned; this fiasco is the PR version of Britney shaving her head). It may just be too late. I don't think so. I think you still have time to salvage it, if you suck it up and start acting with some humility going forward.

Here's what you have to do, immediately, if not sooner. Get your publicist all over the Internet putting out this fire. Saying instead, Oh no, Mo'Nique would love to appear at your awards event. Go there, say not one word about money, smile, nod, pick up your award. Rinse, repeat. Over and over. Like it's one of those magic walkways they have at airports. The momentum in place will just push you through it.

And if you keep doing it, I promise you, there is an Oscar at the other end. Did you know that an actress's fee goes up significantly if she has won an Oscar? And the FIRST role you do after winning an Oscar you can pretty much cherry pick? That is there waiting for you.

Having lots of money may be your goal. It may be your only goal. You may not care about "the art." You may not care about the respect of your peers. But if you do, SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP right now, and do this. Without complaint. Without requests for additional payment. The payment comes in the roles you get later. And the doors that will be opened for you. When in the future, it's between you and another actress for a role, you'll ALWAYS have the "well, she won an Oscar" card to play.

You seem like a smart woman, Mo'Nique. Fix this PR travesty right now. Do the awards circuit. And if, for whatever reason, you choose not to, I sure hope that Academy voters remember Samantha Morton's name as an alternative. At least SHE gets it.