The Emmy Awards Was Terrible TV About Truly Great Shows

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At least it ran short.

It was a telecast in which everyone, from host Mariska Hargitay to the night’s winners and, most especially, the people hoping to be entertained at home, was let down.

As a person who watches so many of these ceremonies, has a passionate fondness for them, and genuinely roots for them to be good, it seemed as if no one involved in making this year’s show had ever seen one before—or maybe even been to one. At the very least, they seemed to have no idea what anyone would actually want to see.

It’s baffling because the ingredients were all there, but wasted. It was as if producers looked at the recipe calling for flour and cheese, had both in the cupboard, thought “eh, let’s not bother to put them in,” and then served an unrisen, cheeseless pizza that, because they couldn’t even meet the telecast’s allotted running time, wasn’t even fully cooked. (I don’t know if any of that made sense. I don’t know how to cook. But that’s why I don’t! Maybe people who don’t know how to make good award shows shouldn’t!)

Hargitay, the Law & Order: SVU star entering her 28th season on the show, was so game, energetic, and enthusiastic. After a slightly nervous start, she was a natural in emcee mode, exhibited crack comedic timing, and proved that she’d probably knock out of the park any inspired bit writers would give her. But, my goodness, was the material she was given atrocious. When Stephen Colbert later bragged that his former Late Show writers penned the jokes, I was like, maybe you don’t want to draw attention to that!

The opening musical number, a parody of “I Love Rock and Roll” called “I Love TV Screens,” served to rapid-fire name-drop random nominees’ names more than make light of or skewer them. (It would not be the only time Hargitay would break out into song to simply name TV shows.) Lyrics, like the one rhyming “ice cream” with serial killer “Ed Gein,” or the masterful, “The sea hag’s chasin’ me! Ah! Eek! Wait, that’s Jen Coolidge with a boba tea,” made, in hindsight, Ariana DeBose’s “Angela Bassett did the thing” seem like Shakespeare.

Hargitay excelled when she was delivering a fun bit referencing Nicole Kidman’s “we come to this place for magic” ad, which was amusing before the record-scratch dig, “Zip it, movie lady,” when Kidman was brought into the fold. Kidman, an Emmy winner and nominee that night, who either stars in or produces like a half dozen major TV shows a year…

There was similar whiplash when Hargitay self-deprecatingly joked about being the first female Emmy host in 15 years because “for 15 years, Amy and Tina said no.” That’s funny! The audience was very much on her side! Yet it was minutes later that they were subjected to a joke about Miley Cyrus’s Disney show ending so long ago that it would now be called “Hannah Mammograma.” Special Emmy trophies need to be handed out to every audience member who successfully stifled a groan.

This year’s Emmy Awards also had a slate of phenomenal winners going for it.

Matthew Rhys made history for being the first man to win two Leading Actor Emmys in the same year, for Widow’s Bay and The Beast in Me. The fantastic Widow’s Bay had a huge night, kicked off by the ceremony’s biggest “oh…yay!!!” win for supporting actress Kate O’Flynn and including creator Katie Dippold’s hilarious speeches when she won Outstanding Writing and Outstanding Comedy.

Speaking of history, Allison Janney (The Diplomat) and Jean Smart (Hacks) tied the record for most performing wins ever with eight, joining legends Cloris Leachman and Julia Louis-Dreyfus. Smart also became the first woman to win Leading Actress in a Comedy for every season of her series, a lovely, meaningful moment—even if you were in the camp of Lisa Kudrow supporters in the category for The Comeback.

Fans of the hot new drama series on the block got to see Pluribus star Rhea Seehorn and creator Vince Gilligan take home awards, while fans of the returning juggernaut drama series The Pitt saw repeats for Noah Wyle and the show.

Stephen Colbert won! Sally Field won! Alan Cumming won! If you loved good TV this past year, there was much to be happy about. If only this show—a TV show about handing out awards for good TV shows—did anything to make these wins seem meaningful…or offer any context at all.

There were no clips of the acting nominees showing off their work or hinting at the tone of their shows. In fact, besides the rushed listing of their titles when categories were announced, no one explained what any of these series were. There wasn’t even any footage of them, until two-second clips were featured during the Outstanding Series categories.

When DTF St. Louis stars Linda Cardellini and David Harbour, who each won at last week’s Creative Arts Emmys, came out to present, they had to awkwardly and hurriedly explain what their show was, since it had yet to be mentioned in the night.

All this didn’t just rob the night’s winners of the gravity their moments deserved; it made for a bafflingly paced telecast. That was especially confusing considering how primed the show was for high emotion. Those moments delivered, but almost despite the show.

The first 75 percent of the awards breezed through at such a hectic clip, and the categories were presented in such a chaotic, nonsensical order that it was dizzying: difficult to remember—and, as such, care—who already won or what was still to come.

Then came the barrage of major moments that were either pre-announced or pre-ordained, and they were all inexplicably shoved into the end of the show, a gauntlet of incredibly touching segments presented in a tear-stained third-act pile-up.

Colbert knew he was going to win, and his speech was heartfelt and generous. Michael J. Fox was honored with the Bob Hope Humanitarian Award, and worked his way through an acceptance that greatly moved the audience. Then came the Sally Field and Reba McEntire tribute to Dolly Parton; and the In Memoriam song; and the remembrance of Catherine O’Hara by her screen children Macaulay Culkin, Annie Murphy, and Dan Levy; and the toast to James Burrows and Rob Reiner from Jamie Lee Curtis.

The show had sprinted through the bulk of the show, only to leave viewers unmoored and suddenly sobbing. Those moments were great. But why not spread them out more? Especially considering how hit-or-miss (and overwhelmingly the latter) the other major segments were.

John Mulaney killed with his bit, briefly resuscitating the crowd. (It’s always risky having Mulaney present, because the inevitable result is all of social media demanding to know why he wasn’t the host in the first place.) He was in stark contrast to the cast of the Baywatch reboot, who promoted their show with all the personality and vigor of one of their flatlining drowning victims.

Saturday Night Live star Marcello Hernandez was humorous. Nick Offerman fully committed to an “erotic painting” joke, the giggles to which trailed off as the gag wore out its welcome. Things were mishandled so badly that a Taylor Swift cameo in a pre-taped sketch, the kind of thing that should immediately go viral, was so laborious and unfunny that watching it go on and on was truly torturous.

Yet again, this show seemed to not respect its entire point of existence: honoring great work. Spotlighting the best of television. Elevating the shows and nominees. Framing the speeches as major TV moments. Not an interminable sketch just to briefly show Taylor Swift.

Producers made a controversial decision ahead of the telecast to move major categories off the show and to the Creative Arts Emmys instead, arguing it would allow more room for bits, music, and comedy. So instead of watching TV veterans Cardellini and Harbour give emotional speeches Monday night, for example, we got to watch Hargitay sing a musical number that doubled as a massive commercial for United Airlines and Marriott hotels. Yes, just what the people want.

I even take back the praise that it was at least short. The panicked vamping at the end of the ceremony because it wasn’t going to reach three hours of runtime was painful. Yes, even if it’s A-listers Woody Harrelson and Matthew McConaughey, watching two stoners try to make each other laugh—which seemed to go on for an eternity—is never fun.