It's the most wonderful time of the year, and while I'm as much an avid connoisseur of Christmas festivities as anyone else, I'm not referring to the holiday season. I'm referring to the commencement of award show season.
I'm the worst kind of award show junkie: the kind who watches the red carpet coverage as attentively as the shows themselves and who considers herself a more accurate judge of the nominees and winners than the elected judges.
I speculate about nominations and nod in much the same way that sports fans discuss their teams. Fortunately, I'm not alone in this pastime, but the reasoning behind my passion for award shows is comprised of far more than a love of couture dresses.
I won't lie and claim that the dresses aren't at all a factor. As someone perpetually searching for an excuse to dress black tie in an increasingly casual environment, there exists some sort of escapist enjoyment in sizing up the red carpet hits and misses of celebrities who willingly put themselves under the microscope.
Similarly transient pleasure can be derived from the gaffes, the faux pas and the magnificently drunken acceptance speeches so characteristic of the Golden Globes. After all, who doesn't love to watch an inebriated Christian Bale fumble for the memory of his wife's name during his speech?
I've found myself equally amused by the uncomfortable red carpet interviews between celebrities and pseudo-journalists like Ryan Seacrest, the cringe-worthy scripted banter between presenters, the stinging potshots taken by perennial Golden Globes host Ricky Gervais and the holy grail of all award show blunders: the catastrophe of James Franco and Anne Hathaway's hosting turn at the Oscars.
Such gaffes are, in part, the beauty of award shows. They serve as evidence that even celebrities stumble through life in much the same manner as we do.
That much being said, award shows are more than a golden opportunity to laugh at the woe-is-me misfortunes and missteps of celebrities. They accord truly deserving thespians and auteurs with the most prestigious honors in their field.
Though the award more often than not goes to the undeserving nominee — or the deserving nominee delivers a disappointingly drunken, nerve-wracked speech — something in the stars aligns when the award is well-deserved and followed by a poignant speech.
As much as I love the water-cooler speeches such as Kanye West'sinterruption of Taylor Swift, it isn't Kanye whose speeches keep me coming back — it's the likes of Colin Firth and Cate Blanchett.
Additionally, award shows draw audiences to art-house films that would otherwise be seen by an incredibly limited viewership. Would Black Swan have taken off so spectacularly if not for the award buzz?
There's so much more to the movies than the chick flicks and the blockbusters, and award shows remind us of that.
At the end of the day, however, I think the true beauty of award shows lies in their ability to turn our perception of celebrity on its head. We live in a culture where tabloids teach us that even such mundane pastimes as dog-walking and grocery-shopping are glamorous for celebrities.
They are beautiful people who lead beautiful, almost charmed lives. What are award shows if not glorified industry parties not unlike office parties?
With the exception of couture and photographers, they can't be all that different. The night is spent socializing with distant acquaintances, eating distasteful food and wondering who will be the one to drink so much as to cause a scene.
Award shows bring celebrities down to our earth, and they remind us that, for all the glitz and glamour, the life of a celebrity perhaps isn't so charmed after all.
—Westenfeld is a freshman Media Fellow from Fort Wayne, Ind., planning to major in English literature and creative writing.
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