From theage.com.au
By Catherine Deveny
May 9, 2009
From the wannabes to the couldneverbes to the usetobes, TV's big night brought out the worst.
THE 2009 Logie Awards. What did you miss? Pigs in suits and scrags in curtains. Vain, attention-seeking opportunists suffering relevance deprivation hoping to get lucky with one of the members of Hi5 but happy enough to go slops by standing next to Bud Tingwell when he sneezed.
It wasn't a car crash this year. It was a 30-car pile up. I should have known. With nominees for best dramas including Home and Away (Bogans by the Sea) McLeod's Daughters (Pony Porn) and Neighbours (So You Think You Can Act!) it was never going to be one of our finest moments. Kate Ritchie (Nice! Inoffensive! Pretty! Detonate now!) and Ian Smith (the fuddy-duddy from Neighbours with no neck who doesn't speak but gargles) being the Gold Logie favourites made me wish, during the In Memoriam package, that I were dead as well.
Packed to the Rafters (I See White People) and Underbelly (Tale of Two Titties - sure it's drugs, swearing, violence and tits but it's Australian drugs, swearing, violence and tits) sweeping the pool is a chilling reminder that everything on telly is dumbed down, sexed up or ripped off.
There was an epidemic of Stockholm Syndrome as talented actors gushed about fabulous scripts, amazing work and incredible experiences as they accepted awards for working on shit shows. Be Australian and take the piss you sucks.
This year's Logies was so trashy it made the Brownlow awards look like the Nobel Prize ceremony. "So who are you wearing, Stevo?" "Some little thing I picked up on Chapel Street, mate. She reckons she's 18."
I was hoping Gretel Killeen would be fabulous because she is. But she wasn't. And even she knew she wouldn't be. Which explains her four costume changes. The day before I bumped into Joan Kirner and I thought of Gretel. Because they only let the chicks behind the wheel when it's all heading down hill. Hello to Meredith Hellicar and Sue Morphet if you're reading. The industry was thrilled because they love nothing more than putting the wrong woman into a thankless high-profile job, seeing her fail and using it as evidence to maintain their unashamed regime of beef for the blokes and chicken for the ladies.
Sarah Murdoch inducted Bill Collins, Mr Movies, into the Logies Hall of Fame to recognise his passionate career of 46 years. You know her. She's a model and married to Rupert Murdoch's son Lachlan. I'm not sure if her official title is "personality" or "celebrity". Regardless, it couldn't have been a more offensive choice. Apparently Bindi Irwin couldn't do it because she had a spelling bee the next day.
I don't mind Rebecca Gibney winning the gold. I just wished she'd won it for something other than being an Aussie mum who walks around holding a mug and then goes to bed wearing a full face of make-up. Gibney won best line of the night as she held her little statue and said, "Proof nanas can text."
My favourite moment was when The Footy Show lost. You didn't need to be a lip reader to work out what Garry Lyon said. Love a sore loser. Particularly when it's a pig in a suit.
This story was found at: http://www.theage.com.au/articles/2009/05/07/1241289312772.html
Saturday, May 9, 2009
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