Ricky Gervais, Man of the People, by Bridget Phetasy.
One minute version:
Eight minute version:
It’s funny ‘cos it’s true.
I may not have ever flown on a private jet to a private island with a temple, but I got an upgrade to First Class once, and those warm nuts have a way of seducing you into believing anyone cares about your shitty takes. In fact it was on that flight I was inspired to become an opinion writer. I appreciate your hypocrisy, Hollywood, it makes me feel better about my own.
So I get it, Hollywood. If this happened to me after a single First Class flight, I can’t imagine what it must be like for you after a lifetime of warm nuts and constant flattery. It’s easy to understand how expensive gift bags and millions of dollars would make anyone feel qualified to lecture other people on public policy, private morality, global warming, or the complex geopolitical issues in the Middle East.
Because that’s what Hollywood has been doing. They’ve been talking down to us normals for decades. While we wait in Boarding Group D to schlep to the back of the plane, they recline on private jets with a private chef and tweet about how we should all go vegan. I doubt they even know what a boarding group is.
They have the audacity to call for an “economic revolution” after making fortunes off us working-class stiffs. They look down on anyone who doesn’t vote like them because they can’t possibly imagine a world in which they might be wrong. Fame has tricked them into believing they are the moral arbiter of all that is good and right and just in the world.
I, too, would think I was on the right side of history if everyone in the room agreed with me — or was afraid to disagree for fear of being blacklisted. They put themselves on a pedestal of their own making and give each other awards.
But the emperor has no clothes. And with a few pointed jokes, Gervais pierced their collective delusion, exposing the hypocrisy of Hollywood for what it truly is. As he so casually reminded them, these are the people who partied with Jeffrey Epstein and made movies with Harvey Weinstein. They take China’s money and look the other way at its human rights abuses, censorship, sweatshops, IP theft, and their most heinous crime, banning South Park.
I have to say, it was satisfying to watch a roomful of self-righteous celebrities be on the receiving end of a roast. Only a cheeky atheist comedian with a British accent could get away with saying, “So, if you win, come up, accept your little award, thank your agent and your god, and fuck off.”
Ricky Gervais Proves Pompous Hollywood Can No Longer Take a Joke, by John Nolte.
If you go back and look at clips of award ceremonies from 30 or so years ago, you will see Oscar hosts Billy Crystal, Johnny Carson, and Bob Hope take constant shots at Hollywood, at celebrity, at the glitter and tinsel of it all. You will also see them make fun of themselves.
Take a look at those old Dean Martin celebrity roasts or when superstars appeared on all those classic variety shows. You will see everyone from John Wayne to Elvis Presley to Frank Sinatra laughing at themselves, at Hollywood in general, at the whole idea of fame and celebrity.
Bob Hope and Bing Crosby, Jack Benny and Fred Allen, Don Rickles and Frank Sinatra, W.C. Fields and a dummy named Charlie McCarthy, … These guys deliberately launched phony feuds as a means to keep each other’s egos in check. They would make fun of their looks, their weight, their age, their talent, their failures… you name it. The public loved it. Ate it up.
As ambitious and egotistical as these men and women were, as driven and insecure as almost every big star is, back then they understood that one way to endear themselves to the public was through self-deprecation and self-effacement. For all their flaws, they were still smart, secure, decent, and grounded enough to laugh at themselves. For all their flaws, these guys still knew how lucky they were to be as rich and famous as they were, so they never took it for granted, never acted entitled.
Compare that to celebrities today, to their sense of entitlement, their pompous sense of self-importance, to the stone faces that greeted Ricky Gervais when he took a few swings at celebrity while hosting Sunday’s Golden Globe awards.
Here’s how the far-left Los Angeles Times described it:
… “If you do win an award tonight, don’t use it as a platform to make a political speech. You’re in no position to lecture the public about anything. You know nothing about the real world.”
Meryl Streep shook her head. Eddie Murphy refused to smile. Quentin Tarantino looked more disturbed than usual. …
And this is why both Hollywood and the media have fallen so out of favor with the American people. Instead of informing and entertaining us, they instruct, lecture, and shame us. Instead of good-natured laughs or the passing on of information, it’s self-righteous sanctimony from humorless prigs who have deluded themselves into a sense of unearned superiority and importance to the world.
Interviewed recently in the Spectator, Gervais explained why he will never apologise for his jokes, however tasteless:
“In the past, the fear of being misconstrued has led him to delete jokes on Twitter. These days he takes a different view. ‘What’s the point? Why should I expect everyone in the world to get my joke? That’s arrogant. I don’t want to go so low and obvious and anodyne that everyone gets it. Now I challenge people to tell me a joke that’s not offensive and I can find something offensive in it. “Why did the chicken cross the road?” Fuck you, my chicken died yesterday.’”
Gervais is right, of course. The offence-taking industry has got grotesquely out of hand – and no institutions have been more responsible for promoting this cry-bully culture of entitled victimhood than the ones that Gervais lambasted at the Golden Globes.
It’s a great start to the 2020s – a decade which, I believe, will see a growing backlash to woke culture, as we normal people realise that it’s us, not the snowflakes of academe and the mainstream media and the entertainment industry, who are the majority and that for the last two decades we’ve had our culture stolen away from us by a small, shrill minority of brainwashed fruitcakes.
Gervais’s Golden Globes performance may yet come to be recognised as one of those pivotal events where we all finally realised that the Emperor of Woke is in fact wearing no clothes.
The man deserves a knighthood, at the very least, for services to Western Civilisation.
Actors make a living saying and doing what others have written for them, and faking emotion.