WGA: Boring Boring Boring
Major proof why nobody gets excited about movies anymore:
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Major proof why nobody gets excited about movies anymore:
Steve Carell won the Golden Globe last week for his role on "The Office," and gave a funny speech he said had been written by his wife, which scolded him for sundry selfish behaviors. Carell's also up for a Writers Guild Award for his screenplay (with Judd Apatow) for "The 40-Year-Old Virgin." So, who's writing that acceptance speech for him?
"I found that online," Carell joked during a Television Critics Association winter press tour event.
"I didn't think I'd win, honestly," he continued. "So I wrote it just so I'd have a piece of paper with names on it and so I wouldn't forget anybody. I ran it by my wife the night before and she gave it a thumbs-up. I thought she played it great. When the camera kept cutting back to her, it was perfect."
"The Office" is also up for Writers Guild trophies, as is "My Name is Earl," which won a People's Choice Award but came up short at the Globes. "Earl" star Jason Lee was a no-show at press tour -- he's been diagnosed with chickenpox. But "Earl" creator Greg Garcia notes, "We think it's chickenpox. I saw him shake Charlie Sheen's hand at the Golden Globes, and the next morning he woke up with bumps all over him, so it could be anything."
Time for another screed. “Crash� has suddenly emerged as an Oscar front-runner, drawing big love from the Producers Guild, Writers Guild and Screen Actors Guild. And while ordinarily I’d be all about honoring a small sleeper-hit tackling tough social issues head-on, I have a few qualms about Paul Haggis’s movie, which should be called “L.A.: City of People Lacking Tact.�
. . . people in Hollywood, the Writers Guild members. Not with this year's ultra-safe, and in some cases just dopey, screenwriting awards nominees.
One of the most interminable awards ceremonies I ever had to sit (slump, lie down) through – and trust me, this is saying something – was the Writers Guild Awards, which is curious, since you’d think a group of writers just might be able to cook up a clever evening of breezy repartee and bon mots. What was most astounding about this event was its sheer, exhausting length, longer than any Oscar show (at the time, anyway) – and they didn’t even give out that many awards.
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