It now seems obvious, in hindsight at least, that Hollywood’s early streaming boom was never going to last. But I’m not sure anyone anticipated the level of instability and turmoil that would blanket the industry only 10 years into this radical shift in the landscape. For viewers, that’s meant ever-increasing subscription prices and offerings that feel strangely bereft of new ideas. So was it any surprise the 76th Emmy Awards chose to look backwards, hoping nostalgia would do the work of getting audiences excited about TV again?
It’s as if the shows honored Sunday weren’t enough — or at least that was the gnawing subtext. But as “Baby Reindeer” creator and star Richard Gadd said pointedly during his acceptance speech: “No slump was ever broken without a willingness to take risks.” Will Hollywood powerbrokers — for whom “risk” has become a dirty word — take heed? Judging from the Academy of Television Arts & Sciences’ reliance on reunions and constant references to old IP to carry the night, it doesn’t look promising.
First-time hosts Eugene and Dan Levy brought a classy if somewhat bland professionalism to the job. It suited the underwhelming moment, I suppose, and at least it was a welcome change from the bland professionalism of Jimmy Kimmel (who showed up anyway with a sweet tribute to the “politely hilarious” Bob Newhart, who died in July at 94).
As father and son, the Levys had an easy chemistry, but it was just as well their opening monologue (duologue?) was kept to a minimum. They were fine, no complaints, lovely people.
“Baby Reindeer” and “Shōgun” were the big winners on the drama side, as was “The Bear” — hang on, sorry (squints) that last one is a comedy, I’m being told. Or is it?
Here are five other observations from the night:
1. Is “The Bear” a comedy? No. I mean, FX says yes. And the Academy has willingly gone along with this category fraud for two seasons running. Almost everyone else disagrees. And “Hacks” ended up walking away with the big award so … (insert shruggie emoji)
As Eugene Levy said at the top of the broadcast: “I know some of you may be expecting us to make a joke about whether ‘The Bear’ is really a comedy, but in the true spirit of ‘The Bear,’ we will not be making any jokes.” Heh. I’m curious how the show would have fared if it were correctly submitted as a drama.
You can love what Jeremy Allen White is doing, but he is not giving a comedic performance. That was awkwardly underscored by the three men presenting his award — Damon Wayans, George Lopez and Jesse Tyler-Ferguson — being, ya know, bonafide comedy TV actors. But really, I have no quibble with the quality of the performances. Fellow winners Ebon Moss-Bachrach and Liza Colón-Zayas have been creating layered portraits of working class people embracing unexpected challenges in middle age.
I can belabor the point, though. Sure, why not – let’s belabor away. Humor threaded through a drama doesn’t automatically make it a comedy. There was never any confusion about this when it came to “Succession” or “The Sopranos.” Even according to the Emmys’ own rules, a comedy is defined as a program “where the majority of the running time of at least six episodes are primarily comedic.” Hello, what are we doing here? Comedy is a specific skill that should be recognized, and when that distinction is erased, we are missing out on true comedy wins.
Anyway, congratulations to “The Bear.”
But also, congratulations to “Hacks” — an actual comedy that aims to crack jokes for “the majority of the running time”.” It also thwarted a “Bear” sweep with additional awards for Jean Smart (with a funny speech!) as well as one for writing.
Over on X, a person claiming to be the “Hacks” awards campaign manager posted a clip from the season’s climactic confrontation to celebrate its win for writing. Using a dramatic scene to illustrate why the show deserved to win best writing for a comedy might be, intentionally or not, the funniest moment of this whole debate.
2. Political statements peeked through here and there, but not enough to give producers palpitations. “Reservation Dogs” star D’Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai probably made the strongest statement, attending with a red handprint across his mouth, a symbol representing missing and murdered Indigenous women. In her acceptance speech, Colón-Zayas encouraged “all the Latinos who love to love me, keep believing and vote. Vote for your rights.” No comment from me on the lackluster “West Wing” reunion, a show that probably tainted way too many people’s ideas about how politics work anyway.
Presenter Candice Bergen talked about her time on “Murphy Brown,” when Vice President Dan Quayle voiced opinions that no one asked for regarding a fictional character’s decision to raise a baby as a single mother. “Oh, how far we’ve come,” Bergen said dryly. “Today a Republican candidate for vice president would never attack a woman for having kids, so as they say, my work here is done.”
No one mentioned anything about a ceasefire in Gaza. Or our environmental collapse. Or the ongoing COVID-19 endemic. It was, as they say, business as usual.
3. Having the Emmys in September used to make sense when the majority of shows aired on network television from the fall through the spring. That meant the awards for last season (the most recent season) were given out ahead of the new TV season. Very tidy. But streaming ditched the regularity offered by that schedule, so the September of it all feels random and chaotic. Which is why last night “The Bear” was recognized for its second season, which premiered more than a year ago, rather than its third, which premiered just three months ago. Our news cycle moves faster than ever, but here’s the TV Academy bucking that trend with a night celebrating episodes that dropped 15 months ago. Sure. Whatever. Sounds like a lousy way to run an awards show, but nobody’s asking me.
Even voters are likely getting confused. Colón-Zayas is a terrific actor, but Season 2 wasn’t a standout for her. Her flashback episode in Season 3 was, however, and I’m betting that influenced Sunday’s outcome. It’s all so convoluted!
Meanwhile, the best show of the last 12 months — that would be Season 2 of “Interview with the Vampire” — didn’t make the eligibility cutoff for this year’s awards. Somehow, voters will be expected to remember it a year from now.
4. Where have all the theme songs gone? Theme songs from old favorites were heard throughout the night, including the theme from “Hill Street Blues” — one of the best melodies to come out of Hollywood! — and hearing it was just a reminder that so many current shows have abandoned this traditional element that used to help define a show, which Ron Howard and Henry Winkler referenced obliquely in their appearance tied to “Happy Days.”
I don’t think we (meaning media executives) think enough about why theme songs existed in the first place. The idea that they’re extraneous doesn’t take into account the psychological function they serve. The music can do important subconscious work of putting you in the mood to watch a specific show. (One of the most effective in this regard: The main titles for “The Muppet Show.”) The music also extends the show’s emotional pull on you long after you watched, so that the song but also the show itself becomes part of the pop cultural fabric.
Creative people spent decades figuring out how to get audiences engaged. Doesn’t mean that’s the only way. But when you toss away so many tried-and-true elements, then add in so many other complications that make building an audience more challenging … well, that’s no fun. And TV should be fun.
5. Odds and ends:
I found the Netflix adaptation of Patricia Highsmith’s “Ripley” to be a bit chilly, but it is gorgeously shot and show creator Steven Zaillian’s win for directing is especially well-deserved.
Not sure what the bit at the Johnnie Walker Blue “backstage bar” was about — spon-con? — but I was momentarily spellbound by its weirdness.
The theme of the night was character archetypes, which included cops, and I can’t argue with the fact that fictional cops have been an enduring part of the TV landscape for close to three-quarters of a century. But to use the theme song from “Cops” — a widely derided reality series — to introduce the segment? Poor taste. Especially when Emmy news was showing up on social media alongside news that New York police had shot four people, including another police officer and two bystanders, over an alleged $2.90 subway fare evasion. I understand the appeal of cop shows and I don’t expect the Emmys to have anything cogent to say about the role these shows have played in shaping perceptions that seem at odds with reality. Just noting the irony? Dichotomy? The something.
People who make television, both in front of and behind the camera, work extraordinarily hard to make these shows and there’s nothing wrong with celebrating their efforts. But as a pop cultural event, these days awards shows come across as out-of-touch myth-making machines that have lost their glamor.
Nina Metz is a Tribune critic.
