Returning as a full-scale production for the first time since 2019, the Emmys moved, in moments, with refreshing speed. But much of the production seemed oddly stuck in a hazy past.
Why, for example, did host Kenan Thompson only unleash his best material after the first commercial break, after an opening in which he staggered through choreographed routines to TV theme songs? And why weren’t these songs typically for shows not honored at this year’s Emmys? We started with “Friends,” moved on to “The Brady Bunch” — with a brief shoutout to the cast of this classic sitcom sitting in the audience, not to be mentioned again — and ended on “Game of Thrones,” the great winner at the last pre-COVID Emmys.
At the time, the Emmys didn’t need to reach for ways to portray television as a unifying force: the Best Drama winner did just that. But there was something striking about this year’s show, how television’s opportunity to honor its own ended up feeling embarrassed by its own medium. Television presented a lot of things for audiences to potentially latch on to; the Emmys seemed to bristle at every turn.
This is a review of the show, not the award-winning body. After all, the Emmys this year have honored shows as varied as “Squid Game,” an ultraviolent Korean drama; “Succession,” a cutting business satire; “Euphoria,” a gonzo meme machine charged with teenage emotion; “The White Lotus”, a dark nightmare of luxury living; “Ted Lasso,” a sports-focused festival of empathy; and “Abbott Elementary,” a truly successful network comedy. All of these series have ridings, and important ridings.
So why was the show’s opening dedicated to promoting ‘Friends’ and ‘The Brady Bunch’ and, frankly, so much of Thompson’s relatively tepid material on the differences between streaming services? ? (Thompson’s hippest moment came during his reunion with former Nickelodeon coworker Kel Mitchell; the couple’s kids’ show “Kenan & Kel” last aired in 2000.)
It’s impractical to expect an Emmys show to feature full-length clips or to avoid truncating speeches: part of what’s satisfying about the show is the clicking instead of one category after another, allowing the awards themselves to build a narrative. But the interstitial matter seemed to waste time while having only a vague idea of where the pulse of the culture lay: even fans of “Law & Order” must have been only moderately satisfied by a comedy sketch by Mariska Hargitay/Chris Meloni, and those who tuned in because they’re fans of one of the legitimately popular shows that were nominated and were probably bored.
Meanwhile, the show’s announcer, “SNL” writer Sam Jay, seemed confused and uncomfortable — defaulting to saying people on stage were hot when she ran out of ideas — while duty DJ Zedd played confusing pop songs, seemingly grounded in nothing at all, for the winners’ walks to the stage. Would it have been a while if multiple “White Lotus” acceptance speeches were punctuated by this memorable theme song? Guess we’ll never know!
There were some great moments throughout the Emmys — mostly generated by articulate winners, including, in particular, Zendaya, a second winner honoring those whose struggles with addiction match her “Euphoria” character, and Jean Smart. , enjoying his moment while wondering if some “Hacks” fans are a bit too young to watch the show. And I appreciated both the revolutionary sense of the “Squid Game” winners in the fields of best actor and best theatrical director, even if the two seemed to be jostling each other in their speeches, aware of the red light on the verge to blink. But if the interest in the Emmys is going to come from the winners and not from the production, I wanted more: a rush to get things done on time meant that some speeches, including Jennifer Coolidge’s, were cut short. (If there’s any evidence that Emmy producers haven’t paid enough attention to television over the past year, it’s that they assumed we’d lose interest in the pace of Coolidge’s perfectly crooked speech.)
But the Emmys, for better or worse, must end on time and must include a monologue and various shoutouts to the home network. And you have to be glad they exist, to put in one place a celebration of so many pungent, unusual, and fun things about TV. It remains hard to fathom, however, that the celebration itself is so poised, so afraid to lean into the quirkiness and intrigue that has made television such a rewarding medium for its creators, who witnessed a routine of Kenan Thompson himself, and his fans, who sat at home, or skipped it in favor of watching “Squid Game” or “Hacks” or whatever big thing might win next year.