The Golden Globes Was Missing One Thing: A Backbone

There is a long history of performers using their platforms at awards ceremonies to uplift social issues, to cause a bit of political commotion, or to try to disrupt the idea that the only point of awards shows is glitz, glamour, and escapism. Instead, these artists have used their subjective accolades for their art (especially when the art itself is political) for social activism at the very moment the world is rapt. But the 81st Golden Globes — the year’s first big televised awards show — mostly stayed away from veering into anything political or remotely controversial (aside from host Jo Koy’s sexist and unfunny jokes). 

Some would say that there isn’t a place for politics at a fancy awards dinner, especially not at the Globes when its brand is very “watch unexpected celeb pairings get drunk in commercial breaks,” but others would argue that the wealthy, privileged, and popular, with copious access and visibility at their fingertips during a live broadcast, are exactly the people who should speak up and say something – anything – about the multiple genocides going on around the world (Palestine, Sudan, Congo, Ethiopia, I could go on), the impending U.S. election, the rolling back of its reproductive rights, the ongoing deadly pandemic, or even the consistent glaring inequities that exist within their own industry that they just spent half a year fighting to change … just to name a few. Whether you stand firmly on the “stars should just shut up and say thank you” camp or the “millions are watching; the bare minimum is to speak up!” cohort, it’s clear that the Golden Globes, and the creatives in attendance, didn’t want to go there. Was the show – and its audience – better or worse for it? 

At the very least, it was less memorable. The moments when actors have  spoken out about global issues have been historic. Everyone remembers Marlon Brando’s (now tainted) protest in 1973 when he sent the late activist Sacheen Littlefeather to accept his Oscar for The Godfather in protest of Hollywood's portrayal of Native Americans and to shed light on the massacring of Indigenous peoples. “He very regretfully cannot accept this very generous award. And the reasons for this being are the treatment of American Indians today by the film industry … and on television in movie re-runs, and also with recent happenings at Wounded Knee,” Littlefeather said during her speech, which was met with both boos and applause. More recently, both Patricia Arquette and Meryl Streep used their big wins (at the Golden Globes in 2020 and 2016 respectively) to chastise Donald Trump. In 2015, when Viola Davis was the first Black woman and woman of colour to win best actress in a drama series at the Emmys, she quoted Harriet Tubman and pushed for equity for Black women in Hollywood. That same year, Common and John Legend (who won best song for Selma’s “Glory”) spoke in support of democracy campaigners in Hong Kong and declared that, “there are more Black men under correctional control today than there were under slavery in 1850,” according to a piece in the Guardian that declared that “political and outspoken winners became an awards-show must” in 2015. Cut to almost a decade later, Page Six reported that Golden Globes organisers were “praying celebs don’t get political at [the] show.” They got their wish. 

“While stars will not be censored, we’re told, a well-placed industry source said: ‘Everyone is hoping that the Globes will bring glamour and fun and Hollywood back to the world. It’s truly needed,’” Page Six reported. This quote stood out to me because the Globes mostly was glamorous and fun — two things I look forward to come awards season — but as far as whether it was “truly needed” to bring “back to the world” is, um, questionable. Yes, there needs to be room for joy and levity amid the heaviness. We should still be allowed to enjoy some frivolous fashion and celebrity gossip. But I don’t think one negates the other. Every year, we here at Refinery29 Unbothered have an internal conversation about whether or not to participate in these legacy awards. We know these institutions continue to undervalue Black art, and the system set up in Hollywood that places so much importance on these trophies is rigged for certain people (read: white) to succeed over others. We’ve divested from giving awarding bodies more respect than they deserve. But we are also in the business of entertainment and giving Black artists their much-deserved flowers. Every year, we find a way to bring you fashion moments and candid celeb content as well as hold the industry to account for its systemic inequities. In years’ past, many awards shows have also been able to do both. So why, after one of the most politically fraught years, when artists were signing petitions in support of a ceasefire in Gaza (some of whom were in attendance but didn’t win like Mark Ruffalo, Selena Gomez, and Quinta Brunson), and when people were more socially engaged than ever, did most of the attendees of the Golden Globes choose not to speak up? And is it even fair to ask them to? 

Full disclosure, I attended the Golden Globes red carpet for the first time to cover it for Unbothered. The carpet is notoriously chaotic, and we knew we would probably only get a quick moment with talent — if that. I knew there wouldn’t be time to wax poetic on the state of the world or the industry, but I was prepared to ask celebs about Taraji P. Henson and the cast of The Color Purple’s recent comments on the unique challenges Black women have to face and the pay inequity they are constantly subjected to. The Color Purple director Blitz Bazawule gave a thoughtful answer about supporting Henson and his attempts to show up for the women in his cast. Elsewhere on the red carpet, comedian Ramy Youssef was asked about Jeremy Allen White’s Calvin Klein ads. He made a joke of it, naturally, but also used the moment to say something else. “We're all thinking two things: ceasefire now and Jeremy, please don't do another Calvin Klein ad,” he quipped to Deadline. 

Youssef was praised on X (forever Twitter to me!) for being the only celeb (that I’ve seen) to call for a ceasefire on the red carpet, but I also saw a post derogatorily comparing his comment to Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez wearing an “eat the rich” dress at the 2022 Met Gala. Basically, the critique is that if you really wanted to stand on business for Palestine, you wouldn’t be rubbing shoulders with Zionists and billionaires at all. But in Youssef’s defence, he’s been doing his own work in support of the people impacted by the Israeli government’s ongoing attacks (he and his peers in the industry who have spoken up in support of Palestine have been fired, doxxed, harassed, and blackballed.) Knowing that speaking up on this issue could cost you your livelihood, it’s understandable why people would avoid the topic. So even though what Youssef did was the bare minimum, it was also brave. He used a question about a viral moment (a silly one at that) to shed light on an issue that is already fading from public consciousness. More than 20,000 Palestinians have been killed and 2 million displaced with children dying in horrific ways every day. Gazan journalists are begging us not to look away. And the most any celeb could muster to honour them last night was a quick quip next to a shirtless photo of Jeremy Allen White. 

Youssef’s quote wasn’t the only statement made on the red carpet. Certain attendees, like Succession’s J. Smith Cameron, and American Fiction’s John Ortiz, donned yellow ribbons, “to show support for the roughly 130 hostages who are still being held in captivity by Hamas,” according to The Hollywood Reporter. The ribbons were provided by Bring Them Home, which THR describes as an “Israeli hostage advocacy organisation.” The organisation’s website includes pleas for the release of hostages, who should absolutely be home instead of in captivity, but does not mention the Palestinian detainees and political prisoners still held by Israel, nor does it call for a ceasefire that would hopefully result in the return of all the aforementioned civilians who are being wrongfully held. There probably won’t be any repercussions for Smith Cameron’s (I should note that she has in the past tweeted tentative support of Palestine) and Ortiz’s apparent show of solidarity with Israel. Similarly, Sarah Silverman was in attendance, Amy Schumer was nominated, and Julianna Marguiles still hasn’t faced any professional consequences for her offensive, pro-Israel tirade. It’s a telling indictment on Hollywood that the most overt and visible message regarding the ongoing genocide was one that can be read as being on the side of the perpetrators, not the victims. 

Despite the show’s concerns of protests (the Beverly Hills Police Department and the FBI were on standby), onstage, there was no clear disruption (or mention of Israel or Palestine) and barely any powerful social activism or even vaguely political moments. The speeches that had the most impact were the ones that dared to say anything other than the requisite “gush or gather.” The aforementioned piece from the Guardian from 2015, which deemed political speeches as an “awards-show must,” broke down the two typical types of speeches: “you either collapse into lachrymose gratitude the moment a trophy is put in your hands, or, to borrow Kate Winslet’s phrase, you “gather”, and keep it together long enough to run down a shopping list of thank yous: the academy, your director, your agent, your parents, your dog, your dog-walker, and so on.” Most of the speeches last night fell into both categories. Emma Stone gushed. Ali Wong gathered. But it was the subtle moments of social recognition that made for the best moments. 

Ayo Edebiri won her first Golden Globe for best performance by an actress in a television series, musical or comedy for her work in The Bear. After giving a very Ayo Edebiri speech that was funny, weird, and endearing, she ended by thanking the assistants of her agents and managers. “To the people who answer my emails, you’re the real ones,” Edebiri said to a nodding Taylor Swift and a room erupting in laughter. “Thank you for answering my crazy, crazy emails.” It was a sweet, silly moment that was not overtly political at all. I don’t think Edebiri was intentionally trying to make a statement about Hollywood’s treatment of below-the-line workers or how assistants were some of the most affected by the writer and actor strikes of 2023. I don’t think she realised how important the acknowledgement of those most undervalued in Hollywood would be coming from a Black woman in the midst of an ongoing conversation about pay equity and what Black women in the industry deserve. I truly think Edebiri just wanted to shout out the people who answer her crazy emails. But by putting value on the work, and the workers, who are often forgotten on nights like these, Edebiri made more of a statement in her flustered and hilariously chaotic speech than most of her peers. 

Another Black woman winner (the fact that there were two is rare for the Golden Globes – good riddance to the HFPA), Da’Vine Joy Randolph, chose to “gather” and rattled off a list of thank yous but ended on a sentimental note. To her character in The Holdovers, for which she won best supporting actress, Randolph said, “Mary, you have changed my life. You have made me feel seen in so many ways that I have never imagined. I hope I helped you all find your inner Mary, because there is a little bit of her in all of us.”

Randolph’s tender recognition of the fact that she doesn’t usually feel seen by her roles, or others in Hollywood, and that Mary changed that, was poignant, even if I wished it was more explicit. But ultimately, The Holdovers is a sweet dramedy about a white kid and his professor (Paul Giamatti also won) at a New England prep school. You could argue that if the work an actor wins for doesn’t have a political message, then what business do they have injecting that perspective into their speeches? And that’s fair. But what about the wins for Oppenheimer, a film “about one of the darkest developments in our history,” as Oppenheimer's producer Emma Thomas put it. It’s about the callousness of war, and the ways that the ambition and greed of white men destroy the world. Sound familiar? I don’t think we need to put too much responsibility on these artists to educate or inspire people sitting at home just hoping to get a glimpse of Timothee Chalamet and Kylie Jenner, but there’s something to be said about what the Hollywood elite does – and doesn’t do – when they’re given the spotlight. 

Other highlights where celebs vaguely acknowledged the state of the world, and the problems in their own industry, came from Barbie’s Issa Rae and Simu Liu’s bit about  getting “white people roles.” Will Ferrell feigned outrage that “the Golden Globes have not changed” and became one of the only people to acknowledge that the Hollywood Foreign Press Association was dismantled due to allegations of corruption and racism. It’s fascinating to me that in the first year since the Golden Globes was revamped, the broadcast was one of the most tame, lacklustre, and apolitical shows I’ve ever seen. A joke about Barbie’s “boobies” made it in and yet the words “Free Palestine” weren’t even alluded to.

One of the night’s final, and most memorable, moments came from Lilly Gladstone, who won Best Actress in a Motion Picture (Drama) for her role as Mollie Burkhart in Killers of the Flower Moon and became the first Indigenous actor to win the category. "This is a historic win, but it doesn't belong to just me," Gladstone said, after starting the speech speaking Blackfeet. "I don't have words. I just spoke a bit of Blackfeet language, a beautiful community, nation that raised me. They encouraged me to keep going, keep doing this. I'm here with my mom, who even though she's not Blackfeet worked tirelessly to get our language into our classroom, so I had a Blackfeet language teacher growing up." She ended the speech with, "This is for every rez kid, every little urban kid, every little Native kid out there who has a dream, who is seeing themselves represented and our stories told by ourselves in our own words, with tremendous allies and tremendous trust with and from each other.” 

I wouldn’t call Gladstone’s speech political. It was about humanity and a very intimate moment that beautifully acknowledged and honoured her identity. But in a show that barely existed outside of the confines of Hollywood’s bubble of excess and escapism, Gladstone’s statements felt radical. If you take a generous read of the show, you can look at the first-time winners and just praise their diversity. It was incredible to see Edebiri, Randolph, Ali Wong, Steven Yeun, and Gladstone win. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that many people of colour take home Golden Globes in one night. But will the diversity of these winners actually make any changes in Hollywood? Just ask Golden Globe winner Taraji P. Henson. Watching some of my faves accept awards while also watching the industry ignore the world around it felt especially insensitive this year, but it also felt very on brand. Hollywood loves to pat itself on the back for meaningless gestures instead of enacting actual lasting change. It loves to trot out its representatives from the world’s most vulnerable groups without doing anything to assist in the safety of those groups. And we are all complicit in its performativity. 

In 2020, Golden Globes host Ricky Gervais warned celebrities not to talk about politics in their acceptance speeches. “You’re in no position to lecture the public about anything,” he said. “You know nothing about the real world. Most of you spent less time in school than Greta Thunberg. If you win, come up, accept your little award, thank your agent and your god, and fuck off.” I understand the inclination to want celebrities to shut up, look pretty, and say their little apolitical speeches. If we’re being honest, most of them aren’t very smart. But they also have a lot of influence and power. And for the next few months, the winners of these awards will have a microphone, a spotlight, and millions of people hanging onto their every word. What are they going to choose to say? Will they take their moment to try to say something — anything — that could make a sliver of change or give a glimmer of hope as the world burns? Or will they continue to be human equivalents of that meme of the dog chilling in a burning room saying, “this is fine?” Will all the fancy dresses, red carpet anecdotes, viral moments, and Old Hollywood allure convince us that anything is actually fine?