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AWARDS DATABASE
All of the winners, all of the nominees, all of the awards shows.
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Heavyweights:
Two of the biggest names at the mostly star-free awards were Steven Spielberg, left, and Clint Eastwood.
(Vince Bucci / Getty Images)
They don't need 'Luck':
The "Good Night, and Good Luck" team of star David Strathairn, left, director George Clooney and producer Grant Heslov relax at their table.
(Vince Bucci / Getty Images)
Kissable Meathead:
"All In the Family" creator Norman Lear plants one on the cheek of Rob Reiner.
(Vince Bucci / Getty Images)
The new underclass
The show opens with a tepid but brief comedy routine by Queen Latifah and quickly proceeds to handing out the trophies. Considering the event is not televised and it's a union get-together, the production has a very slick and staged feeling to it. Presenters read dutifully from a teleprompter. The stage, festooned with a backdrop of hanging purple pyramids, seems like one of those sets designed to look good on TV, but odd in person. And while the PGA board includes some of the biggest of wigs in the business, many of the speeches take on a surprising air of victimhood. The guild's crusade of late has been to limit the number of "fake producers" receiving credits on films. Mega-producer and guild President Kathleen Kennedy, describing efforts to "turn the producing credit into a job title and not a reward," sounds exceptionally forlorn. Speaker after speaker echoes her, inveighing against the explosion of charlatan producers. Nothing but the genes The producers seem to take on an air of vanquished minority in their desire to find producer-ness in everyone who comes near the stage. Queen Latifah introduces "Capote" star Philip Seymour Hoffman as a "producer," thanks to his being so credited for "Capote" (although he is not one of the official producers listed under that film's nomination.) Speaker after speaker reminds the crowd of the courageous and forgotten work that producers do to bring a film to life, as though they were in danger of being brushed under the rug. And through it all, no one gets up and says, "Last year I made so much money that my bank had to build a new wing just to store it." But then again… Despite the air of grievance, the show does give you a bit of appreciation for the overpaid schlubs who cobble these things together. While highlighting the usual social conscience vehicles of the year, the winners seem to show a passion for their work and pride in the craft of ramming through the industry's most treacherous swamps and quicksand pits. Toward the end of the night, I ask a young TV producer how she enjoyed the evening and she reports feeling inspired. "It made me want to make something that matters," she said. The awards season's Harold Stassen I have now attended three shows this awards season (the People's Choice, Golden Globes and PGAs) and famed party boy-action director Brett Ratner has been at all three, without remotely being nominated for anything. At least tonight he has an official function, presenting the David O. Selznick Achievement Award to Roger Corman. Still, I wonder, can the director of the upcoming "X-Men 3" and ex-beau of Serena Williams be this desperate to hang out with celebrities? Is he precampaigning for future nominations? Or is he just nursing an insatiable appetite for grilled glazed chicken breasts and steamed carrots? King Lear Presenting the Achievement in Television Award to Norman Lear, Rob Reiner kicks off what becomes the night's running joke. After telling of the courage Lear displayed championing his various projects, Reiner lays out the qualities needed to be a successful producer. Most of all, he says, you need what Norman has. To paraphrase: extremely oversized genitals. "I've seen them. They're huge!" he continues. "Look at his wife. She's a very happy woman." Later a "Lost" producer in his acceptance speech says that after hearing about Lear he went to the bathroom and stuffed his pants with toilet paper. Not content to let sleeping jokes die, presenter Ratner tells a comedic story about having seen Lear's genitals himself, and then describes the state of his grandfather's genitals and the equipment he needs for them. Backstage follies "Ellen" producer and stand-up comic Karen Kilgariff tells me what happens to a winner after their moment of glory. Whisked backstage after collecting the best variety show trophy, Kilgariff and her colleagues were photographed and then, she recounts in semi-horror at the absurdity of it, interviewed for "Extra." "I mean, we're producers," she says. "We know you're not going to use interviews with us." |
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