Two Day Magazine

By: Mia Bencivenga

Well, my dear friends, award season is finally upon us.  

With it comes the glamor, the pageantry, the decadence, and in some cases, the mind numbing, nausea-inducing irritation that comes with viewing the endless barrage of red carpet coverage; and let’s not forget the numerous awkward conversations between Ryan Seacrest and Scarlet Johansson’s breasts.  

Ryan, we know she has massive knockers.  After all, they are in large part responsible for the majority of acting jobs she has acquired throughout the years.  She knows it.  We know it.  Everyone knows it.  You don’t need to draw attention to it by talking directly into her chest.  Contain yourself.  I mean, for Christ’s sake, you are just about the most licentious metrosexual man on television, with exception to the boys of the Jersey Shore. 

Regardless, award shows offer a bevy of hosts.  Theoretically, most of these hosts are supposed to be entertaining.  Strangely enough, this is not always the case. But what do our award show hosts really tell us about ourselves?  Let’s go through a few real life examples of the different types of hosts one may encounter when watching an awards show.
First of all, we must start with Ricky Gervais. Ricky, in case you have never seen any of his stand up, is a shameless, potty mouthed, sarcastic, vaguely pompous, occasionally squealing British man.  He has hosted the Golden Globes for the past three years.  

His schtick?  Insult as many celebrities, in as many low blow ways as is possible in the short periods of time in which he is supposed to amuse the audience.  He’s rude, he’s politically incorrect,
he can be extremely offensive, and he’s mean to the celebrities.   And the Hollywood Foreign Press have asked him to host three years in a row.  

This is a far cry from the charming, wise-cracking, but nonetheless harmless hosts of yesteryear.  

So what’s changed?

Well, as Ricky himself has pointed out: no one wants to see a bunch of rich people have a night in which they give each other awards for doing a real good job at pretending to be someone else in multi-million dollar movies when the country is in the middle of a recession.  

Thus, the mentality of the Hollywood Foreign Press is that, well, we common folk viewers don’t want to see these people celebrated!  We don’t want some kiss-ass host to perpetuate the cycle of decadent narcissism!  We want the host to badger the celebrities, to insult them, to make them feel bad, which in turn, they assume, will make us feel good, and thus, will make us tune in.  This has actually proved to be such a good strategy, that the Hollywood Foreign Press, has, despite Ricky’s controversial comments and offensive material, invited him back three years in a row.  

Ricky’s counterpart would be, in my humble opinion, Hugh Jackman.  Hugh happened to host the Oscars a few years ago.  Hugh was entertaining, pleasant, charming, and just all around lovely.  He didn’t insult, he didn’t try to be a comedian, instead, he did what he does best; he put on a damn good show.  

These types of hosts have a breezy quality about them.  They fit in with the celebrities, with the glitz and glamor; but they’re ultimately trying to make the show amusing for the viewers at home.  They aren’t trying to make anyone squirm, or cause any controversy, they’re just there to make sure you’re having a good time.  

Hugh hosted at the year in which, if memory serves me correctly, the recession began.  He was like a cup of hot chocolate to sooth America’s frayed nerves.  He delicately pointed out the recession in amiable way, singing about it in the midst of an intricate dance number.  But soon, we didn’t want to be comforted; instead, we wanted to take out our anger on someone... anyone…

And from that, came Ricky Gervais, acting as America’s new preferred concoction of vodka and Redbull.

Of course, there are many flavors in between hot chocolate and vodka, just like there are many different types of hosts that fall somewhere in the middle of a Ricky and a Hugh.  This year, the Oscars is going to be hosted by one of my most favorite people ever. Billy Crystal.  He’s  likely to be a happy medium between, poking fun with his wizened, well-crafted humor, but won’t be nearly as controversial or as much as an instigator, to be sure…

But there is an instance of not one, but two hosts who were, together, the strangest Academy Award hosts that I have ever seen.  

Do you remember the Academy Awards from last year?  In which Anne Hathaway and James Franco hosted?  In what can only be described as a ride to crazy town, mixed in with extremely bored and a little inebriated-ville?

Brief recap:  Anne was doing her damnedest.  The girl sang, laughed, smiled, gestured, and changed costumes with a fervor that can only be described as extreme dedication mixed in with a mild hysteria.  

Meanwhile, Mr. Franco appeared to be just like, hangin’ out man. Nothing going on really, just you know, hosting the Oscars.  It’s mad boring though, I mean, I have to wear a suit, and talk in like, a hosting voice.  I’ve got other stuff to do.  I’m working on this novel…it’s going to be EPIC.  It’s about this guy, who like, well…I haven’t figured it out the “plot” per say, but you know.  Yeah.  Whatever though, I guess I’ll just go through the motions.  It’s not like anyone watches this thing anyway…Whoa, dude Scarlet Johansson has got some massive tickle biddies!  Jesus Christ!  I mean, have you seen them?  Here, I’ll take a picture with them on my iphone…Hey man, if I win the Oscar tonight, you think she’d let me touch them, as like, a celebratory gesture or something?

So why, why on God’s green and luscious earth did the Academy submit us to this type of bizarre torture?  Well, as it was alluded to in James and Anne’s opening bit, they wanted to “appeal to a younger demographic.”  

I’m not going to bore you to death with an analysis, because, as we all witnessed it, it is safe to say that their little ploy failed miserably.  This usually happens when you’re trying to appeal to a younger demographic by using young people, because well, they’re young.  They don’t have the experience needed to host something like the Oscars.  And let’s be honest. I don’t think the Oscar’s is, or will ever be, a pre-teens award show.  In fact, any show in which a woman can win an award for playing a Nazi seductress who enjoys bedding teenage boys is most likely not a show that young girls are going to want to watch as they give each other pedicures.  

Once again, our obsession with youth has given us a lighter, more superficial, less well done version of what we know and love.  And by the way, that’s not good.

So what do our Award Show hosts tell us about ourselves?  A great deal.  From our collective moods to our mindsets, it appears our hosts do much more than tell bad jokes.  They give us insight as to what we want, because after all, we’re the ones tuning in.

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Tell Mia which host you identify most with on Twitter @miasminirants.