Writingbolt's Creation

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I stuck to my word. I refused to watch another awards show…and only caught bits of this most recent one. I didn’t exactly cave, but it snagged me as I passed through a room with that channel on the TV. I was more interested in the antics of the hostess, Nikki Glaser, than the awards themselves, which I knew would annoy me inexplicably. [From what I saw of her jokes, she was on fire. I didn’t feel the uncomfortable tension I’ve felt from other (male) hosts.]

Among the biggest buzz about this latest Golden Globes is Demi Moore getting her very first acting award? It seems impossible until you hear how someone refers to her as a “popcorn actress,” which I am roughly translating as someone who might fill a theater but won’t be respected as a high-class star. Often blockbusters like Star Wars and superhero films get seasonal attention but don’t get nominated for much other than musical score and/or sound. [And, popcorn sales go up during the (summer) weeks those movies run in theaters.] Or, rather, that was the way, but changes seem to be happening.

I had to know what earned her this award.

[I’ve seen a number of Demi’s films and wouldn’t call most of them “popcorn” films. Her early films of the 1980s had a certain share-popcorn-with-your-friends-while-you-relate-to-this vibe but were equally unsettling, emotion-evoking, in a way. None of her films seem easy on the stomach, not even Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle (which may be the only film I’d consider a “popcorn film”). Ghost is probably the most potent. I personally don’t crave popcorn when a woman like her is being sexy, fierce or emotionally wounded. I’ll take a drink, though; I get dehydrated when visuals make me shudder or tremble. Can I call her a soda actress?]

And, upon seeing a sampling, I feel this and a number of other awards given to women of a certain age bracket are pity awards, like pardons given to criminals who have been detained too long. [The Substance looks and sounds like a shock-intended statement piece, a sort of art film (which I never heard about until this awards show). So what does that tell you?]

I think some of the tears in Demi’s eyes were a sort of embarrassment, of humiliation, for having to wait so long. Sure, there was gratitude, too, like a starving artist selling a rare painting. But, she looked sort of sad…yet stunning in that golden, molded dress. [The earrings were lame, but the dress was glorious.]

And, that’s the real Globe for Demi, her dress…and a second–perhaps more vital–Globe for her speech about identifying your own self-worth instead of letting some company or organization or the press or your agent evaluate you. You don’t have to be an egotistical snob and demand more of people trying to assist you, but you can hold your head up and evaluate yourself rather than let others decide your fate. [If only that speech would have come after a more significant role; but, when you’ve waited this long just to give a speech, what can you expect?]

I will take that golden Demi moment with me as far as I can carry (or recall) it. It turns the page on that one past award show in which an award-starved Sally Field cried out, “You like me. You really like me.”  [I thought Susan Lucci was the one who said that until I looked it up.  Susan has been another award-starved actress.]

[Demi’s acceptance speech reminded me of my own life and how many times I’ve had to watch others get notice and awards while I got nothing except, maybe, a can of nuts or crappy candy. It also reminds me of when I was pursuing art school and had an admissions guy essentially dismiss my life’s work, my portfolio, before praising his own depressing painting on an office wall, before he took me and my parents on a tour of a very lewd and horrifying artworks made by students. I threw away my portfolio, in anger, and swore I’d change, somehow, to find a better well of talent within myself. That experience changed my outlook on a career in art, yet I am still an artist looking for my proper place in this world. So, though it wounded me (and made me wary of compliments), it didn’t end me.]

Maybe the lesson is that the real stars, the actors, actresses and production crew that deserve the honors don’t often get the trophies because the trophies come with shady behind-the-scenes deals for other projects. By not getting an award, perhaps Demi was spared this freight train of deceit and allowed to pick roles that suited her. I’d say she is a rare face that wasn’t exactly type-cast; wouldn’t you?

[If I was Demi, I’d go to the next award show in sweatpants and a T-shirt. Just be casual and cool, forget the fortune you are pressured to wear (and risk) and ignore the awards until she gets summoned or is asked to speak on someone’s behalf. It’s unfortunate some people have to be “dolled up” and dragged to so many of these events just to watch others get so much attention and trophies; it’s torture for those who don’t win and don’t just come to enjoy the company/atmosphere. It’s hard to enjoy the latter when there is so much focus on the former.]