Golden Moments

The thing about the Golden Globe awards is that they don't really mean anything ... and yet they can mean alot. Voted on by the Hollywood Foreign Press Association, the Globes are a silly honour that is the grown-up equivalent of the Teen Choice Awards - except even less so as the TCAs are voted on my millions of fans and the GGs are selected by a group of (approximately) 90 press writers.

The real joy of the Globes is found in three things:
1 - it marks the true start of awards season (the SAGs are in two weeks and the Oscars in a month)
2 - it features stars from both film and television so ALL your faves are in attendance
3 - it is held dinner party style meaning a the drag of "ceremony" is enlivened by tons of Moet and fun seating arrangements

This year did not disappoint with some of the best, wittiest, human acceptance speeches in years (I would suggest we have Jamie Foxx' behaviour from last year to thank for this). The event was also a feast of strapless cleavage in layered gowns and a definate absence of bowties. So after three hours of watching, I offer the following observations...

Natalie Portman looking exceptional in her new short hair that makes her eyes pop even more.

The WTF? dress award to Rachel Weisz who should have second-guessed the hair, the blush and the bizarre dress, chunky construction. Then I found out she was pregnant and felt a little bit bad.

Michelle Williams looking SO luminous beside her new man (and father to her newborn) Heath Ledger that I almost, finally, forgave her for her Dawsons Creek days.

Jessica Alba's tan. Wow!

Sandra Oh's cute joy over having her nomination read for "Grey's Anatomy" and then the flustered glee as she got lost on her way to stage after winning the award. Then she says "I feel like someone set me on fire!" (a concept that S. Epatha Merkeson would co-opt later with her hot flash comments!)

Drew Barrymore ... baby, buy a bra.

Hugh Laurie takes the top actor prize for "House" and my other fave medical show gets some props. And really, was there any other choice but him?

You gotta love William Peterson's voice.

Reese Witherspoon starts her run for Oscar and is dressed exactly like a golden globe herself in a metallic top above a cream skirt. She also offers up a speech about familial love that is so sweet she makes Shirley Maclaine cry.

Mary Louise Parker kicks some "Desperate Housewife" ass even though her boobs have returned to normal (ie. non-existant) after last year's post-baby buxom-ness.

An obviously preggers Gwyneth swans around in WAY too much fabric.

Harrison Ford turns co-presenter Virginia Madsen into a side table as he cavalierly hands her is his drink to hold and then continues to present the screenplay award as if she wasn't there.

Mandy Moore takes the prize for simplest elegance.

Joaquin's obvious discomfort at having to stand in front of a crowd of people and just be himself.

Being a little disappointed that Philip Seymour Hoffma's schticky Capote performance is going to run over Joaquin and a VERY deserving Heath Ledger come Oscar time if the GGs are any indication.

Oh, and that one last shot of Scarlett Johansson's cleavage just for good measure.