Golden Globes: Best and Worst Moments

The bar wasn’t exactly sky-high for host Nikki Glaser after Jo Koy opened last year’s show with a true clunker of a monologue. But Glaser — who secured the gig partly on the strength of her standout performance at Netflix’s Tom Brady roast — understood the assignment perfectly and delivered one of the better awards show monologues in a long time. The stand-up’s jokes were just spicy enough to keep the assembled celebs on edge, with bits about Timothée Chalamet’s mustache (“the most gorgeous eyelashes on your upper lip”), Harrison Ford confusing Zendaya and Ariana for weed strains, and “two-time Holocaust survivor Adrien Brody.” But Glaser never got particularly vicious, and balanced the roasts with just the right amount of self-deprecation. “Glen Powell, you were in everything,” she quipped at one point. “Twisters, Hit Man, my head when I’m having sex with my boyfriend. Thank you so much for the assist. I’ll see you tonight.” That’s how you do it, folks. —Jon Blistein

Presenting at an awards show can be a thankless job. You’re surrounded by jittery nominees who just want you to get to the point, maybe you’ve downed a tequila shot or two (as Kieran Culkin said he did with Mario Lopez on the carpet), and you’re reading a script you’ve barely practiced off a teleprompter. This year, those scripts didn’t do the capable stars delivering them any favors, rendering even award-winning performers stilted and adrift in awkward pauses. Whether it was Mindy Kaling pretending to be annoyed at Kate Hudson, Broadway star Ariana DeBose demurring about her singing skills versus Angelina Jolie’s, or Kathy Bates rambling to Anthony Ramos about hotel minibars, the duos at the mic for each award introduction struggled with lame material and a camera that was bizarrely close to their faces. A fizzy reunion between Substance co-stars Margaret Qualley and Demi Moore was a bright spot, as was Melissa McCarthy riffing on pretentious Hollywood advocacy while presenting Best Comedy Series with Awkwafina, and Seth Rogen and Catherine O’Hara’s obvious improv. Otherwise: There’s always next year. —CT Jones

A good awards show should be big — over-the-top, a little unpredictable, kinda stupid, but generally good solid fun that hopefully doesn’t stretch on longer than three hours. What they don’t need to be is fussy. But this year’s Golden Globes were exactly that thanks to a pair of production decisions that didn’t serve much purpose. First, there were the factoids about presenters or winners splashed across the screen in tiny font, which illuminated nothing particularly relevant to the proceedings. (Just get John Hodgman to read half-truths or out-and-out lies like he did at the Emmys years ago.) And then there were the strange arrows vaguely showing where each nominee was sitting as their name was called. Note to producers: The gala dinner setup is one of the best things the Globes has going for it — it’s looser, boozier, more conducive to gossip. Get those cameras right up in those slightly-sloshed celeb faces, and stop giving us wide shots of the auditorium so we can kinda-sorta see where Ralph Fiennes or Nicole Kidman are. We’re watching an awards show, not picking where to travel next on an open-world video game map. —JB

If the Golden Globes rebrand is headed toward wholesomeness, that isn’t the worst thing. Ayo Edebiri made waves in 2024 when she ended her acceptance speech by thanking the assistants who answered her emails. This year, Colin Farrell picked up the mantle. Accepting the award for Best Performance by a Male Actor in a Limited Series, Anthology Series, or Motion Picture Made for Television for The Penguin, he used his time to shout out the makeup department who turned him into the bald, heavyset DC Comics villain — and, at the end, the woman who brought him snacks while he was sweating in his prosthetics. “Oh, craft services, a great dame!” Farrell shouted to audience applause at the end of his speech. “Carolina, on those cold winter nights in New York when I was the only one overheating, she’d be there with a coconut water every half an hour. Carolina, god bless you.” The moment was legitimately touching and highlighted an often overlooked role in the film crew. God bless you too, Colin. —CTJ

The Brutalist is a remarkable film: a new American epic about art and commerce, trauma and survival, immigration and invention that’s anchored by sublime performances and stunning visuals. Steering this three-and-a-half-hour epic is the steady hand of director Brady Corbet, who was rightly honored with one of the night’s top prizes: Best Director. His speech was earnest and heartfelt — but unfortunately Corbet made the dubious decision to read it off his phone. A talented filmmaker cradling a trophy in one arm while holding his iPhone out in front of him to read off his Notes App is just incredibly goofy. Call us old fashioned, but, just print out! It looks more dignified. Plus, keeping things analog reduces the chance of, say, getting a phone call from a friend who’s super-excited to congratulate — or prank — you during one of the biggest moments of your career. —JB

Demi Moore has spent the last 40 years headlining everything from blockbusters to cult classics with little to no recognition from critics or her Hollywood peers. So it’s no wonder she brought the Golden Globes audience to their feet after tearfully accepting her first major award. “Thirty years ago, I had a producer tell me that I was a popcorn actress. And at that time, I made that mean that this wasn’t something that I was allowed to have. That I could do movies that were successful, that made a lot of money, but that I couldn’t be acknowledged,” Moore said. “And as I was at kind of a low point, I had this magical, bold, courageous, out-of-the-box, absolutely bonkers script come across my desk called The Substance. And the universe told me that you’re not done.” The Substance captivated critics and audiences alike for its gory, skin-crawling take on beauty standards and aging. So to have one of its leads recognized after so many years of being overlooked feels entirely full-circle. —CTJ