Critic’s Notebook: 76th Primetime Emmy Awards Oscillate Between Freshness and Fatigue

As a long-time television enthusiast and critic, I must say that this year’s Emmys left me rather underwhelmed. It felt like a disjointed mess, akin to flipping through channels during a rainstorm and catching snippets of shows you don’t quite recognize.

The term “run it back” might have been coined within sports, although I’m not entirely sure. What I can say for certain is that I most often encounter this phrase when discussing the culmination of a victorious season. In such situations, players, coaches, or team owners may express their wish to maintain all crucial members in an attempt to replicate the past success. Occasionally, this strategy results in the creation of a dynasty. However, other times the attempt to run it back fails, suggesting that the initial triumph might not have been as enduring as it initially seemed.

In January, the delayed 75th Primetime Emmy Awards, affected by a strike, turned out to be one of the most remarkable award shows in recent times. With Anthony Anderson as the host, it was filled with unforgettable instances that showcased a deep affection and honor for the medium of television.

The shift in the television broadcast was a refreshing change, given its usual struggle with self-perceived artistic inadequacy on TV. It’s not shocking at all – assuming the low ratings were an exception – that the Television Academy opted to repeat this positive change.

The 76th Primetime Emmy Awards broadcast on Sunday night was once again helmed by producers Jesse Collins, Dionne Harmon, and Jeannae Rouzan-Clay, directed by Alex Rudzinski, and maintained the same warm and introspective tone towards television. Fortunately, it avoided being a catastrophe.

Compared to typical Emmy broadcasts, this year’s show was generally better than average. However, it fell short of expectations due to a sense of tiredness and repetition, given the similar format so soon after the last Emmys. The nostalgia wasn’t as powerful, the emotional scenes lacked energy, and far too many winners in the early part of the show seemed to repeat themselves or lacked enthusiasm about their wins.

In truth, the event was brimming with unexpected twists, but none more so than the shocking victory of Max’s Hacks in the category for outstanding comedy series, which stood as a long shot against FX/Hulu’s The Bear, having already taken the prize in January. This showdown pitted Hacks against its second season, widely praised even more than the first. The feeling of impending victory intensified when Ebon Moss-Bacharach and Jeremy Allen White bagged their consecutive Emmys and Liza Colón-Zayas emerged victorious in the supporting actress category, despite her character being sidelined in the second season.

Winning by Colón-Zayas seemed to validate the divisive third season, where Tina shone brilliantly in several episodes. Moreover, Colón-Zayas’ reaction, a blend of surprise and gratitude, was endearing and distinctive compared to the routine speeches delivered earlier by White and Moss-Bachrach.

However, Jean Smart triumphed over Ayo Edebiri in the lead actress category, and the creators of Hacks earned a noteworthy writing accolade, surpassing the script for “Fishes,” which granted Christopher Storer a directing Emmy for The Bear. Despite my prediction that The Bear would win the overall series prize, I abstain from Emmy pools. Was the Hacks victory a criticism of The Bear’s third season? Or perhaps a comment on its placement in the comedy category, a recurring topic of discussion and humorously addressed by Eugene and Dan Levy during their opening monologue? While it may contain elements of both, I prefer a more straightforward interpretation: The third season of Hacks was exceptional (and Hollywood often rewards shows that reflect itself).

The Shōgun drama series seemed destined for victory once FX decided to develop additional seasons instead of keeping it as a miniseries. However, it faced some surprising defeats during the night’s most shocking moments, such as Billy Crudup overpowering Tadanobu Asano in the supporting actor category and Will Smith taking home the prize for dramatic writing (Slow Horses). This left a brief sense of uncertainty halfway through the show. But this feeling quickly vanished as Hiroyuki Sanada and Anna Sawai claimed their emotional victories, ensuring the record-breaking coronation was now complete.

Surprises enliven award shows since they keep viewers engaged and because shocked recipients often deliver memorable speeches. The excitement on Lamorne Morris’s face as he outshone heavyweights like Robert Downey Jr. for supporting actor in a movie/miniseries/whatever for Fargo, and the stunned expression of Baby Reindeer writer/creator/star Richard Gadd with each of his three wins, were particularly captivating. Gadd’s quip of the night, when he recognized that Hollywood might be in a creative lull but cautioned, “No slump can ever be overcome without a readiness to take risks,” was both witty and insightful. However, I also admired the heartfelt gratitude shown by both Jean Smart and Jodie Foster, who, with their impressive resumes, should never be taken aback by winning awards.

And the night’s most likably out-of-sync speech actually came from its least surprised winner, John Oliver, who wins every year and was in a category with only one other show. Yet he managed to call his son Hudson “Husband” and then had to fight through the play-off music for a half-bemused/half-saddened tribute to his dog: “This is for all dogs. All dogs. You’re very good girls. You’re very good boys. You all deserve a treat. PLAY ME OFF NOW.”

Speeches remain a nerve-wracking segment for producers during the performance, not something they deliberately select as part of their production decisions.

For this show, the production choices were mostly well-intentioned and bland.

Above all, the January event maintained a clear purpose and plan, but this event seemed to lack such consistency. Instead of focusing on original content, it was filled with homages to stereotypes, resurrecting familiar yet overly contemporary TV personalities to recite uninspired dialogues about doctors, lawyers, mothers, and fathers against backdrops that failed to capture visual appeal. I found myself more preoccupied with deciphering the casting choices for each segment than immersed in their enjoyment.

Instead of providing impactful or significant moments during reunions, they seemed more like an attempt to emulate shows such as “The West Wing” and “Happy Days”, which might have been fitting in January. However, in January, with most winners being predictable, the reunions and tributes were the main attraction. Unfortunately, this year, they often fell flat and felt dull.

As a fan, I found myself continuing to grapple with the age-old challenge that award shows often present – the heartfelt In Memoriam segment. The introduction of Jelly Roll and his performance of “I Am Not Okay,” which seemed somewhat self-aggrandizing, was a bit rocky to begin with. However, the rest of the segment followed predictable patterns, albeit with an audience that wasn’t quite as hushed as one might hope.

Initially, I thought the show was about to take a more solemn turn as the commercial break approached. However, unexpectedly, Jimmy Kimmel stepped onto the stage and delivered an impromptu tribute to Bob Newhart. Although the words weren’t poorly crafted, they certainly altered the atmosphere in the room, leaving us unsure if this was the right moment for laughter, especially considering Jon Stewart’s frequent Emmy wins. It seems likely that there was a scheduling mishap, as I can hardly fathom this being a deliberate decision.

Instead of discussing choices, let’s shift focus to one of my preferences – the matter of honorary awards during award shows. It’s been a misstep for these events to exclude such accolades from their main broadcast. This decision was wrong, and it should be corrected, particularly by prestigious shows like the Oscars. The recognition given to Greg Berlanti through the Governors Award in the main show was justifiable, his speech was captivating, and I believe other shows could benefit significantly by occasionally presenting an honorary award or two.

Finally, how about Eugene and Dan Levy as hosts? I thought they were good, and they might have played even better in a more effective telecast. Their monologue was a little clunky at first, but they got some good lines by the end and their bits throughout were low-key charming and affectionate in a way that worked for me. They were, to use their own frame of reference, extremely Canadian as hosts.

Did any other amusing segments stand out? The stars of SNL poking fun at Lorne Michaels never winning, only to discover he had won numerous times, brought about a few laughs, with Maya Rudolph’s reading of the word “robbed” being particularly humorous. However, I found it puzzling why it was billed as a “reunion.” The trio from Only Murders in the Building have been milking what has undeniably become repetitive humor. I also enjoyed Diego Luna and Gael Garcia Bernal presenting primarily in Spanish for no other reason than that.

To put it simply, award shows often have more drawbacks than advantages, and when something works well, there’s a tendency to overdo it. For instance, one time when the Oscars went host-free and it was successful, they thought, “We don’t need a host!” But then they realized that hosts were indeed necessary. Doing it again for this year’s Emmys broadcast seems logical. However, it might not be a good idea to do it next year.

2024-09-16 09:25

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