The Ringer - Everything You Need to Read About the 2017 Emmys2017-09-19T08:30:02-04:00http://www.theringer.com/rss/stream/160671112017-09-19T08:30:02-04:002017-09-19T08:30:02-04:00How We’d Fix It: The Emmys
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<p>This year’s show was above average—and it was still a pretty bland ratings flop! With TV’s biggest night in dire need of a few tweaks, allow us to offer some advice.</p> <p id="9tDfl0">The Emmys have their <a href="https://www.theringer.com/tv/2017/9/14/16305318/best-emmys-ceremony-in-history">ups</a> and their <a href="https://www.theringer.com/tv/2017/9/14/16306634/worst-emmys-ceremony-in-history">downs</a>, but whatever their outcome, they’re sure to attract an outsized share of complaints from positively aghast viewers. Sunday night’s show was hosted by Stephen Colbert, dominated by <em>The Handmaid’s Tale</em>,<em> Big Little Lies</em>,<em> </em>and a Trump-heavy season of <em>SNL</em>,<em> </em>and was certainly better than average. <em>The Ringer</em>’s rigorously completist in-house awards ranker Andrew Gruttadaro estimates this show lands “somewhere in the middle” of his master list, but there’s always room for improvement. That’s especially true in the all-important <a href="http://deadline.com/2017/09/emmy-ratings-2017-down-low-sean-spicer-stephen-colbert-donald-trump-handmaids-tale-sunday-night-football-falcons-packers-cbs-1202172324/">numbers department</a>—the 69th Annual Primetime Emmy Awards marked the broadcast’s third consecutive year of ratings decline. It’s possible the Television Academy is just as open to change as we are, given that a shake-up might be the Emmys’ last great hope.</p>
<p id="O9zBk9">That’s why we’ve taken it upon ourselves to brainstorm some potential tweaks to TV’s biggest, if dwindling, night. Half the fun of awards shows is armchair analyzing how we’d improve them, whether it be the choice of winners (<em>Better Call Saul </em>needs its time in the sun!) or an adjustment in the overarching sense of humor (fewer disgraced political figures, more making fun of Hollywood and its narcissism). Having been caught utterly flat-footed by Peak TV, the Emmys are an even better candidate for an overhaul than most aging institutions. With that in mind, here’s our short list for potential upgrades—because now that we’re done parsing <a href="https://www.theringer.com/tv/2017/9/18/16324860/emmys-winners-2017">this year’s victors</a>, it’s time to turn our attention to 2018.</p>
<h3 id="w2yyFX">One Win, Tops</h3>
<p id="PqNG6J">This isn’t <a href="https://www.theringer.com/2016/9/15/16045968/one-win-emmys-bryan-cranston-matthew-mcconaughey-1edf1a101bbc">the first time</a> this admittedly nuclear option has been floated on <em>The Ringer</em> dot com, and it certainly won’t be the most exhaustive. But the prospect of limiting series and roles—so Elisabeth Moss could win for both Peggy Olson <em>and</em> Offred, because we’re not monsters—to one Emmy apiece is worth floating again after last night’s study in contrasts. All the action was in drama this year, as <em>Game of Thrones</em>’<em> </em>ineligibility opened the field up to no fewer than five freshman series. Comedy, meanwhile, continued to be <em>Veep</em>’s domain, as it was <em>Modern Family</em>’s before that (and <em>Frasier</em>’s before that, and so on and so forth). <em>The Handmaid’s Tale </em>got the rush of being the new and unfortunately zeitgeist-y kid in town; Julia Louis-Dreyfus tied a record, but her I’ve-done-this-before professionalism was inherently less exciting than Elisabeth Moss having a full-on meltdown.</p>
<p id="8Q3g8h">This fix gets at the Emmys’ core and most unique flaw: repetition. This isn’t something other awards shows have to worry about because they’re considering a fresh slate of artists and works each year. Sure, the Coen brothers might swoop in and take a slew of Oscars every three to six years, but they do it with technically separate works. Television, meanwhile, considers different installments of the same larger entity year after year, a structural flaw that inevitably leads to repetition and boredom. And as TV expands to include more and more noteworthy, exceptional projects, the old guard’s occupation of some very limited space grows less and less justifiable with each passing ceremony.</p>
<p id="5m3ajJ">The current system may allow for the special pride of racking up several consecutive wins. But who says the pride of a bunch of extremely well-compensated creatives needs to be a primary concern? Either way, we’re more than willing to accept that trade-off for mandatory wealth-sharing and guaranteed novelty. The viewers would be, too.</p>
<h3 id="dYfxoU">Shake Up the Voting … Again</h3>
<p id="8Ug2Fw">A few years ago, the Television Academy shook up Emmy voting regulations with an admittedly well-intentioned goal: to break the disproportionately older and conservative “blue-ribbon panels” stranglehold in the voting process. It was this structural tic that gave us <em>Modern Family’</em>s reign of terror and other baffling creative decisions. In theory, the previous method of using panels ensured that Academy members voting in a given category had actually seen all the nominated episodes. In practice, however, members were often busy making TV instead of watching it, and those who did have the time to serve on panels had a definite and frustrating set of preferences that was increasingly out of step with the rest of the Academy.</p>
<p id="kJMa3i">So they opened up voting for final winners—not just nominees—to the general membership, eliminating the panels as a determining factor in the last stage of competition. Soon, a different, very clear problem emerged: Combined with Peak TV, which only compounded the aforementioned time management problem, the Emmys rapidly turned into a popularity contest. This became more obvious in years past (see: <em>Game of Thrones</em>’<em> </em>immediate and total domination), though you could still see traces of the effect in last night’s winners list—or rather, who wasn’t on it. In a perfect world, a series like <em>Better Call Saul </em>and a performance like Bob Odenkirk’s would at least stand a fighting chance against <em>This Is Us </em>or its leading man Sterling K. Brown, as heartwarming as his speech might have been.</p>
<p id="GxzTZn">An ideal fix would combine the two systems to result in a voting membership that’s inclusive yet also well-informed. Perhaps voters would have to present some kind of proof they’ve actually seen all the candidates in a given category before they submitted their choices, possibly via a screener site that could keep track of what someone has viewed. (Technology: let’s use it!) But that’s just a starter proposal! The point is, the Emmys, like television, are a constant work in progress. Why not adjust rules as we go and see what works?</p>
<h3 id="NkGnCy">The More Categories, the Merrier</h3>
<p id="yuYMRG">Currently, one of the most bizarre things about the Emmys is how loophole-ridden their category construction is. “Comedy” is now defined as “half-hour series,” regardless of that series’s tone; a late-period show like <em>Fargo </em>or <em>American Horror Story </em>can technically compete as a “limited” show. As a result, completely dissimilar series compete for the same theoretically unifying award. <em>Transparent </em>is up against <em>Modern Family</em>; <em>Big Little Lies </em>steamrolls the third season of <em>Fargo</em>; and meanwhile, admirably well-executed shows like <em>One Day at a Time </em>never get the chance to break through, even though they succeed spectacularly at what they’re trying to do. The problem is that what <em>One Day at a Time </em>is aiming for is heartwarming consistency, not awards-friendly prestige.</p>
<p id="ZJOYo5">The remedy to category fraud is simple: more categories. The Emmys have made gestures in this direction already, separating sketch comedy series from talk shows after decades of lumping the two together. All I’m proposing is that the Academy continues to gradually unweave the tangled knot of its catchall designations. Separate multi-camera comedies from single-camera, as the Emmys already do for cinematography. Finally give anthology series a space of their own, separate from limited series. Create a separate space for the half-hour drama so the second season of <em>The Girlfriend Experience </em>can get its due. Whatever the fix, just make rules that don’t allow <em>Black Mirror</em>’s “San Junipero”—an episode of television—to compete in a more favorable category as a TV movie. Simply upping the number of nominees for a given award from five to seven isn’t enough to keep up with the ever-increasing number of actual shows. </p>
<p id="lCkuIg">Now, I know what you’re thinking: More categories means more awards, which means more acceptance speeches, which means elongating a ceremony that already feels too long. So here’s how we’ll fix that—exile the less marquee awards to the preceding weekend’s Creative Arts Emmys ceremony. As charming as <em>SNL</em>’s Don Roy King might have been, Directing for a Variety Talk Series is never going to garner the star power of a lead acting race. Reality Competition might have been a necessary piece of the show in broadcast’s heyday, but its presence on the telecast now feels dissonant. So, let’s jettison those lesser announcements in favor of more A-list moments like <a href="https://www.theringer.com/tv/2017/9/18/16324588/sterling-k-brown-emmys-speech-this-is-us">Brown’s speech</a> (or even just time for Brown to finish without getting played off). We appreciate the reshuffled categories’ sacrifices in advance.</p>
<h3 id="0tSjrq">Make Celebrities (Pretend to) Hate Each Other Again</h3>
<p id="2KnO8M">Even after we fix how the awards are given out, we still need to figure out how to get people to <em>watch </em>the awards be given out. (Much as it pains me to admit it, the general public needs more of an incentive than reading out a winners list to give up three hours of their time.) Sunday’s Emmys were a markedly convivial gathering, with competing time slot hosts Seth Meyers and James Corden cheerily palling around, winners for <em>The Handmaid’s Tale </em>and <em>Big Little Lies </em>bending over backward to praise each other, and most disturbingly, Stephen Colbert <a href="https://www.theringer.com/pop-culture/2017/9/17/16324150/sean-spicer-emmys-awards-cameo-stephen-colbert-monologue">wheeling Sean Spicer out</a> for a cutesy, self-aware chuckle.</p>
<p id="j9c6b6">Simply put, the awards show—key word “show”—isn’t dramatic enough. For a ceremony that handed <em>Feud </em>approximately a billion nominations, the Emmys seemed curiously unaware that feuds are extremely fun. So what if the Late Night Wars extended to <a href="https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLZ1f3amS4y1ffYEhGZDtawaEyRQQu69Bw">“Carpool Karaoke”</a> vs. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MTxMGfYc3jw">“A Closer Look”</a>? What if Nicole Kidman stirred up some drama by forgetting to thank costar and coproducer Reese Witherspoon, who she’d just beat out for Lead Actress in a Limited Series? At bare minimum, what if Colbert and his producers had the backbone to resist a memeable moment and deny Trump’s collaborators the redemption and spotlight they so obviously crave?</p>
<p id="PIyX6I">Obviously, tabloid-worthy disputes and political courage are two entirely different affairs, but the principle still stands: A little animosity goes a long way. Just listen to the applause Lily Tomlin and Jane Fonda got for their <em>9 to 5 </em>reenactment. Or behold the way social media latched onto <a href="https://twitter.com/FeldmanAdam/status/909577160389808128">Jackie Hoffman yelling “Dammit!”</a> when she lost to Laura Dern. People <em>love </em>drama—so much so that they might tune into an awards show that has drama baked into it. We’re not demanding that the Emmys become the 1995 Source Awards, but if Tatiana Maslany wants to get on stage and exclaim, “The West Coast ain’t got no love for BBC America?!” we certainly will not stop her. </p>
<h3 id="V3VBEG">Ditch the Late-Night Rolodex</h3>
<p id="4GAVEB">Spicer’s cameo may have been Colbert’s sole misstep in an <a href="https://www.theringer.com/tv/2017/9/18/16324802/emmys-2017-stephen-colbert-host-sean-spicer">otherwise smooth hosting gig</a>, but Colbert remains a best-case scenario for a generally dispiriting trend in awards MCs. Jimmy Kimmel has hosted both the Emmys <em>and </em>the Oscars in the last year, and will soon host the Oscars once again. James Corden hosted the Tonys and the Grammys back-to-back. Jimmy Fallon hosted the Golden Globes. Not coincidentally, a late night host landed a show whenever a respective show just so happened to land on their network.</p>
<p id="TXXCj5">Late night hosts are logical candidates for awards ceremonies, which are essentially a supersized version of the monologue/segue/intermittent bit shuffle they already do five times a week. The problem is, they’re <em>too </em>logical (read: boring). We’re in the midst of a thoroughly conservative run of white guys in suits, which leaves room for neither happy surprises (<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tA4Mp0yyKa8">Andy Samberg</a>!) nor entertaining trainwrecks (Anne Hathaway and James Franco, or if we’re sticking with the Emmys, that time <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/55th_Primetime_Emmy_Awards">11 separate comedians shared the job</a>). It’s not like there aren’t plenty of long shots ready for prime time: John Early and Kate Berlant! Jerrod Carmichael! Lakeith Stanfield! The weirder and riskier, the better.</p>
<p class="c-end-para" id="2xIxKR">One can understand not wanting to rock the boat, or at least not taking a chance on a lesser-known face at a time when the atrophy of audiences won’t slow down. But rocking the boat is precisely what draws in crowds.</p>
https://www.theringer.com/tv/2017/9/19/16331140/emmy-awards-fixesAlison Herman2017-09-18T19:27:07-04:002017-09-18T19:27:07-04:00Mike Schur, Creator of ‘The Good Place,’ on the Emmys’ Sean Spicer Appearance
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<p>Schur and Andy Greenwald break down the bit on ‘The Watch’ podcast, and explain why they think it happened</p> <p id="HPfb1G"><em>At the Emmys on Sunday, former White House press secretary Sean Spicer rolled out his podium during Stephen Colbert’s monologue and cracked some jokes for the audience. Spicer’s appearance was </em><a href="http://variety.com/2017/tv/news/sean-spicer-emmys-cameo-poll-1202562755/"><em>largely polarizing</em></a><em>, and on Monday, Mike Schur, the creator of </em>The Good Place<em>, spoke to Andy Greenwald on </em>The Watch<em> about why he thought the bit was misconceived. </em></p>
<p id="HpFebR"><em>Listen to the full podcast </em><a href="https://art19.com/shows/the-watch/episodes/2fb6dbb4-b89b-4348-918e-6a824c8eb65e"><em>here</em></a><em>. This transcript has been edited and condensed. </em> </p>
<p id="TWFN9T"><strong>Mike Schur:</strong> The [big] annoyance to me personally [at the Emmys] was Sean Spicer in the house. I hated that so much.</p>
<p id="I3Mkmw"><strong>Andy Greenwald:</strong> I wanted to bring that up. So I agree with you—I’d love to hear your take on it.</p>
<p id="vNMxnM"><strong>Schur:</strong> I thought it was a terrible, misconceived blunder. I did not enjoy it ... most of the people that I spoke with did not enjoy it. I don’t think you get to do what [Spicer] did—which is essentially serve as a mouthpiece of an agitprop organization for like a state-run media, and lie—just bald-faced lie to everybody—and then also say, “How dare you?” to people who accuse him of lying, and attack those people who say, “Why are you lying?” And then get fired, essentially, and then come out and go, “Haha, remember when I lied to you guys? That was so funny. It was so funny how I lied to you.”</p>
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<p id="eYoGeP"><strong>Greenwald:</strong> And [he] gets to be a good sport, and it was all in good fun, it’s all entertainment, we’re all performers here.</p>
<p id="zSE59Q"><strong>Schur:</strong> Yeah, it wasn’t—it was not fun. None of this has been fun. It’s not a joke. And I really resent the idea that he gets to be normalized by anyone, much less a group of people who, by-and-large, are sort of leading the resistance against him and everything that he and his administration stood for. </p>
<p id="cvWmLu">So that part of it to me was—I guess I sort of get it. I was sort of game planning. Because I love Stephen Colbert more than you could ever imagine. I think Stephen Colbert is like ... I think he’s one of the most important performers and one of the greatest comedic performers I’ve ever seen in my entire life. And I was trying to work it out in my own head as to—what was the thinking? I believe the thinking was something like this: It was like, “This entire administration is a joke. And I’m going to prove it.” Right? It was something like that. It was like, “I’m going to now show you—everyone, including you, Mr. President—how much of a stupid joke everything here was.” And I sort of see it from that angle. But I don’t agree with it. And I don’t think that it should have happened, because I don’t think that’s what it did. I think instead of saying it was a joke, I think it was saying, “We’re all in big trouble,” because there’s now a completely blurred line between entertainment and actual fact and reality.</p>
<aside id="Tjus72"><div data-anthem-component="readmore" data-anthem-component-data='{"stories":[{"title":"Emmys 2017: Stephen Colbert Will Still Do Anything for a Joke","url":"https://www.theringer.com/tv/2017/9/18/16324802/emmys-2017-stephen-colbert-host-sean-spicer"}]}'></div></aside><p id="ZFfvoG"> <strong>Greenwald:</strong> I agree with you, and I appreciate the generous view that you’re taking. … What’s been interesting to me over the last year and a half has been seeing Stephen Colbert … [find] the public persona behind that desk. Because I think even he would admit it was not an entirely smooth transition to go from the fictional Colbert on Comedy Central to the host of <em>The Late Show</em>. But I think he’s figured it out. And, for the most part, [Sunday] night… [was] an even bigger stage for a coming-out party for who he is as a performer for everyone, not just for this specific character. Yet that rang so false to me because it reminded me [that] a lot of these late-night hosts have been wrestling [with this idea] in different ways: That “Well, we’re behind the desk for all of America. We help put America to sleep,” that sort of antiquated Johnny Carson thinking where “I’m gonna feint this way and then feint this way.” Although [Colbert] has mostly avoided that ... to his great ratings gain over the last year. So that's why, to me, it felt discordant. </p>
<p id="iolsif"><strong>Schur</strong>: Like you said, he’s not interested in that, I don’t think, nor should he be necessarily. I think that that old Carson-y way of thinking about what it means to be a broadcaster—it’s a noble idea, and I don’t think that it’s impossible or anything, but that way of thinking also [masked] a lot of problems that the country had. People weren’t taking sides, and I know that there [are] a lot of platitudes about “uniting us instead of dividing us” and stuff, but I, in general, think it’s better for people on television to be expressing their opinions [rather] than not expressing their opinions. </p>
<p class="c-end-para" id="fbOZ12">Colbert hasn’t seemed that interested in sort of playing both sides and “both sides-ing” this, in part because what the “this” right now is less “both sides-able” than it’s ever been. And when the president, for example, both sides-es something like Charlottesville, then everyone—unanimously, almost—points out what a huge mistake it is to try to do that. So, I couldn’t find the angle on the idea behind Spicer that was [different than] “We’ve done a bunch of Trump jokes at his expense. Now let’s throw his supporters some love.” … It sure didn’t seem like that was the intention of it, and even if it had been, that would have been a miscalculation. I think it was like a ratings ploy a little bit—like a “Let’s get people talking” ploy, and a little bit of a sly wink from Colbert like, “I’ve been telling you what a joke this administration is, and now I’m gonna prove it by having one of them just come on the Emmys and make a fool of himself.” But I hated every second of it. </p>
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https://www.theringer.com/2017/9/18/16330966/the-watch-mike-schur-sean-spicer-emmysAndy Greenwald2017-09-18T16:55:20-04:002017-09-18T16:55:20-04:00Emmy Winners and Losers With Mike Schur
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<p>Breaking down the night’s best moments, biggest victors, and surprising shutouts</p> <div id="nX59rG"><iframe src="https://open.spotify.com/embed-podcast/episode/4AiFhmSpU1FmBMmNZR5muI" style="border: 0; width: 100%; height: 232px;" allowfullscreen="" allow="encrypted-media"></iframe></div>
<p id="4vyKga">Andy Greenwald, Amanda Dobbins, and Alison Herman rehash the highlights and star power of Sunday night’s 69th annual Emmy Awards (1:00). They discuss the best moments and speeches and the big nights for <em>The Handmaid</em><em>’</em><em>s Tale</em>, <em>Big Little Lies</em>, and Hulu (10:00), while also attempting to understand the <em>Stranger Things</em> shutout (15:00). Later Andy is joined by Mike Schur, comedy writer and cocreator of <em>The Good Place</em>, to discuss Emmy topics including Sean Spicer’s surprise appearance and what it’s like to see your friends win awards (36:00).</p>
<p id="52pZsE"><strong>Subscribe: </strong><a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/the-watch/id1111739567?mt=2">Apple Podcasts</a> / <a href="https://art19.com/shows/the-watch">Art19</a> / <a href="https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/the-ringer/the-watch">Stitcher</a> / <a href="https://www.theringer.com/rss/the-watch/index.xml">RSS</a></p>
https://www.theringer.com/2017/9/18/16330308/emmy-winners-and-losersAndy GreenwaldAlison HermanAmanda Dobbins2017-09-18T01:52:44-04:002017-09-18T01:52:44-04:00Politics and Movie Stars Won Big at the Emmys
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<p>‘The Handmaid’s Tale,’ ’SNL,’ ‘Veep,’ and ‘Big Little Lies’ all took home multiple awards</p> <p id="HKdzaI"><a href="https://www.theringer.com/tv/2017/9/13/16303070/everything-you-need-to-read-about-the-2017-emmys"><em>Click here for all our Emmys coverage.</em></a></p>
<p id="RjlyuP">Host Stephen Colbert may have opened the 69th Primetime Emmy Awards with an ode to TV as a distraction, but the Emmys themselves were more than willing to acknowledge the current state of our country. As expected, Donald Trump and the forces that surround him—misogyny, Islamophobia, the conflation of entertainment and politics—made plenty of cameos in monologues, presenter preambles, and acceptance speeches. Less expected, though <a href="https://theringer.com/2017-emmy-nominations-winners-losers-atlanta-the-leftovers-3e39aa9eb382">hinted at</a> by the nominations, was the degree to which current events seemed to influence the actual honors accorded by the Television Academy on Sunday night. Politics were the dominant theme of this year’s Emmys, followed closely by star power—though as Colbert pointed out when he named our current president the biggest TV presence of the year, the two are hardly unrelated.</p>
<p id="796M4a"><em>The Handmaid’s Tale </em>achieved an intimidating sweep of the Drama category, collecting the plaudits for Writing, Directing, Lead Actress, Supporting Actress, and eventually Series. In the process, <em>Handmaid’s </em>decisively made up for <em>Game of Thrones’ </em>conspicuous absence and dashed competitor’s hopes that the spoils might be distributed somewhat evenly. Heading into the night, there appeared to be at least a viable chance for the uncut escapism of a <em>Stranger Things </em>or a <em>This Is Us, </em>or the more traditional, British-accented prestige of <em>The Crown. </em>In retrospect, however, neither Netflix’s marketing budget nor even the allure of a “broadcast TV is <em>back</em>!” narrative could match the timeliness of a show about a dystopian theocracy in the land once known as America. So the Margaret Atwood adaptation emerged victorious, bringing the marvelously robed author onstage for the ceremony’s closing moments, while the streaming behemoth went home with a surprisingly light haul.</p>
<p id="Ar10mU">NBC, meanwhile, made up for the loss of <em>This Is Us</em>—<a href="https://www.theringer.com/tv/2017/9/18/16324588/sterling-k-brown-emmys-speech-this-is-us">excepting an entirely charming Sterling K. Brown</a>—with an equally impressive sweep for <em>Saturday Night Live. SNL</em> has recently enjoyed a <a href="http://www.vulture.com/2017/05/saturday-night-live-ratings-this-season-are-unprecedented.html">remarkable ratings upswing</a> directly attributable to the current political climate, a phenomenon the Emmys dutifully bore out by awarding the show’s two most prominent topical impersonators: Kate McKinnon, who thanked Hillary Clinton in her tearful speech, and Alec Baldwin, who is not technically a credited cast member. (He did, however, appear in more than half of the season’s episodes, qualifying him for the Supporting Actor category over the Guest Actor honor that went to post-election host Dave Chappelle.) Such is the power of the entertainment industry’s Trump anxiety. Majordomo Lorne Michaels coolly opened his acceptance address with a reference to the first time <em>SNL </em>won the Outstanding Comedy-Variety or Music Series award, for its first season in 1976—the subtext being that he’s excelled at his job for quite a long time. But there’s a very clear reason why the comedy institution is suddenly bringing home the trophy again for the first time since 1993. </p>
<p id="Mxppmc">It’s the same reason <em>Veep</em>’s reign continued uninterrupted despite a decidedly less successful run than seasons past, with Julia Louis-Dreyfus picking up her sixth consecutive statue for portraying Selina Meyer and the show itself taking home Outstanding Comedy Series. As the clichéd-but-true jokes have it, Hollywood is a self-centered town full of self-centered people who like to feel as if they’re making a difference, or at least expressing something powerful that can serve as a call to action. That’s a leg up no tearjerker, puzzle box, or expertly crafted piece of ’80s nostalgia can match.</p>
<p id="SBH13L">The Limited Series category—once an afterthought, and now the most crowded field by far—had its own unstoppable behemoth. <em>Big Little Lies </em>was an almost terrifying flex on the part of HBO, wrested from Netflix in a bidding war that has now handsomely paid off. Oscar-nominated director Jean-Marc Vallée can now add an Emmy win to his CV; Laura Dern, Alexander Skarsgard, and Nicole Kidman captured the Monterey murder fantasia every acting category for which it was nominated. Much has been made of film talent’s migration into TV in recent years, with Martin Scorsese helming pilots and Kevin Spacey joining Netflix. But <em>Big Little Lies </em>was a more extreme influx of movie stars than TV had ever previously seen, and with <a href="http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/live-feed/jennifer-aniston-reese-witherspoon-star-series-tv-morning-shows-1024879">a second Reese Witherspoon series</a> and a <a href="http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/live-feed/robert-de-niro-julianne-moore-drama-david-o-russell-lands-at-amazon-945029">Robert De Niro–David O. Russell team-up</a> on the way, the floodgates seem unlikely to close. This is a kind of TV defined by its faces first, its auteur second, and its script a distant third, a dramatic reversal of the medium’s typical writer-first hierarchy. (Tellingly, one of the few major awards <em>Big Little Lies </em>missed out on was for writing, which went to Charlie Brooker’s “San Junipero” episode of <em>Black Mirror </em>instead.) As TV gets bigger, though, it stands to reason it would attract bigger names. And the biggest actors in the world carry much more weight than the biggest showrunners.</p>
<p id="PxjIex">Then there were the wins that didn’t necessarily fit a broader narrative but provided the joy that ultimately makes these three-hour carnivals worth watching: the coronation of Donald Glover with honors for both directing and starring in <em>Atlanta, </em>at least somewhat mitigating its later loss to <em>Veep; </em>the almost blinding charisma of Sterling K. Brown, who gave one of the few thank-yous it was downright frustrating to see get cut off. (Don’t worry, he finished up <a href="https://twitter.com/Variety/status/909621095539531776">backstage</a>.) And of the new, or at least newly recognized, talent to step into the spotlight Sunday evening, a refreshing portion of it lay outside the typical demographic included by awards-giving bodies. Lena Waithe made history twice over by becoming the first black woman to win for comedy writing after being the first black woman nominated; Reed Morano was only the third woman ever to win for dramatic directing, after Mimi Leder for <em>ER </em>(1995) and Karen Arthur for <em>Cagney & Lacey </em>(1985); “San Junipero” is the story of an interracial lesbian relationship forged in cyberspace. A video in which the Academy paid tribute to its own diversity may have been embarrassingly self-congratulatory, but the winners told an encouraging—if incomplete—story all on their own.</p>
<p class="c-end-para" id="N4pet0">The competition-clearing success of just a handful of series ensured that this wasn’t the most exciting Emmys in history; there were few upsets and even fewer snubs. (Jonathan Banks was still robbed, though.) But predictability was a trade-off for offering an unusually clear snapshot of TV at a time when the medium is more diffuse and difficult to sum up than ever. It turns out it’s possible to break through the Peak TV noise after all. All you have to do is ride the coattails of the biggest personality of them all—or arrive at the party with an Oscar already in hand.</p>
https://www.theringer.com/tv/2017/9/18/16324860/emmys-winners-2017Alison Herman2017-09-18T00:59:05-04:002017-09-18T00:59:05-04:00Sterling K. Brown’s Emmys Speech Was the Moment of the Night
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<p>Not even a cut microphone could keep the ‘This Is Us’ star from shining</p> <p id="djwCkX"><a href="https://www.theringer.com/tv/2017/9/13/16303070/everything-you-need-to-read-about-the-2017-emmys"><em>Click here for all our Emmys coverage.</em></a></p>
<p id="T9hSQO">The greatest acceptance speech in Emmys history was in 2004 when <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uAS9bAErtYw">Elaine Stritch told whomever would listen</a>, “They can take me off the stage when they want to.” Sunday night at the 69th Annual Emmy Primetime Awards, <em>This Is Us</em> actor Sterling K. Brown did his best impression of Stritch while accepting the award for Outstanding Lead Actor in a Drama Series, and damn, it was good.</p>
<p id="SCpDAA">Brown was victorious for the second time in a row—last year he took home an Emmy for Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Limited Series or Movie—though winning for his performance on the breakout NBC comedy-drama <em>This Is Us </em>seemed to have him completely bewildered. Accepting the award, Brown struck the perfect chord of levity and unfeigned sincerity in a speech that will go down as the best moment of the night, and maybe even one of the ceremony’s all-time greats. </p>
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<p lang="en" dir="ltr">Sterling K Brown is that dude. <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/Emmys?src=hash">#Emmys</a> <a href="https://t.co/ZWg47kAwQZ">pic.twitter.com/ZWg47kAwQZ</a></p>— Josh Sánchez (@jnsanchez) <a href="https://twitter.com/jnsanchez/status/909612232044158976">September 18, 2017</a>
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<p id="M2BUNd">He began by acknowledging the work of his fellow nominees and then expressed how humbling it was to have his character enshrined in the pantheon of great male TV protagonists. “Like, Walter White held this joint? Dick Whitman held this joint?” Brown exclaimed. He then gave a poignant shout-out to Andre Braugher, who was the last African American lead to receive the honor when he won in 1998 for his role as detective Frank Pembleton in <em>Homicide: Life on the Street. </em></p>
<p id="6Y5acD">And like all great speeches, Brown’s was sprinkled with some comic gems as well. He called his <em>This is </em>Us castmates “the best white TV-family that a brotha has ever had” (true), declaring that they even topped “them white folks that raised Webster” (also true). He thanked his co-star Ron Cephas Jones, and just as he was preparing to acknowledge the show’s writers, the Emmys’ “wrap it up music” rose to full volume. Brown was taken aback—“Nobody got that loud music!” he proclaimed, rightfully pointing out that a few earlier speeches had gone longer than his—but in pure Stritchian fashion, he held his ground on stage, continuing on even as producers cut his mic. </p>
<p id="3wYP7Z">After the show, Brown got the chance to <a href="https://twitter.com/Variety/status/909621095539531776">finish what he started</a>. He took the opportunity to complete the requisite company nods and express his love for his wife and kids. He then spent an extra moment reflecting on Braugher and why winning this award was so important to him. “When I first got to [NYU] there was a poster of <em>Gideon’s Crossing</em> above the Public Theater, so I would see [Braugher’s] face all the time when I left my apartment to go to school,” he said. “So, I’m buggin out, bruh! I never thought that this was a possibility, and to be standing here 19 years after him! I wanna represent.” </p>
<p class="c-end-para" id="MvTdME">Tonight at the 2017 Emmys, it’s safe to say Sterling K. Brown did just that. </p>
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https://www.theringer.com/tv/2017/9/18/16324588/sterling-k-brown-emmys-speech-this-is-usJordan Coley2017-09-18T00:28:31-04:002017-09-18T00:28:31-04:00Emmys 2017: Stephen Colbert Will Still Do Anything for a Joke
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<p>Or, in the case of Sean Spicer, bring out anyone</p> <p id="3bHJmr"><a href="https://www.theringer.com/tv/2017/9/13/16303070/everything-you-need-to-read-about-the-2017-emmys"><em>Click here for all our Emmys coverage.</em></a></p>
<p id="KRFfVk">Is Sean Spicer funny? His acknowledgment that people find him funny—is that funny? Is he funnier now that he’s the <em>former</em> White House press secretary? <a href="http://www.cnn.com/videos/politics/2017/01/21/sean-spicer-donald-trump-inauguration-crowd-bts.cnn">“This was the largest audience to ever witness an inauguration, period”</a>: Was that funny at the time? Is it getting funnier as a constant punchline for everything in the eight months since? Was <a href="https://www.theringer.com/pop-culture/2017/9/17/16324150/sean-spicer-emmys-awards-cameo-stephen-colbert-monologue"><em>his</em> <em>very presence</em></a><em> </em>onstage at the Emmys Sunday night, making that joke himself, funny?</p>
<p id="r8A8Yh">As a baseline exemplar of the Cheerful but Woke but Self-Effacing but Self-Aggrandizing award-show ceremony, the Emmys were lovely, actually. As a host, Stephen Colbert is <a href="https://www.theringer.com/pop-culture/2017/8/28/16213288/vmas-2017-katy-perry-taylor-swift-lorde">way better at this than Katy Perry</a>: brighter, funnier, cuddlier, sharper. “I’m glad you’re the white guy they have hosting the Emmys,” Anthony Anderson told him as the show kicked off. And indeed, as late-night talk-show hosts go, Colbert’s the golden mean between the righteous political firebrands (Samantha Bee, multiple 2017-Emmy victor John Oliver) and the oblivious take-your-mind-off-things hair-touslers (<a href="https://www.theringer.com/2017/5/17/16040628/late-night-tv-politics-jimmy-fallon-stephen-colbert-c8569c948c01">you know</a>). </p>
<p id="ZEtwkJ">He’s the fiddler you want as Rome burns. “Liev Schreiber is playing a brooding chunk of meat” back to back with “Everyone loves streaming video—just ask Ted Cruz” is an excellent night’s work in this realm, a nice mix of apolitical and just political enough. Colbert kicked things off with an affable and goofy song-and-dance number (co-starring Chance the Rapper lamenting “the decline of the independent family-run store”). And he punctuated his opening flourish with a shrewdly pithy catchphrase that nailed the uneasy mix of political awareness and self-aggrandizement on display all night: “Tonight, we binge ourselves.” And then Spicer himself took the stage, and it was time to purge.</p>
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<p lang="en" dir="ltr">If Melissa McCarthy and Sean Spicer don't take a photo together, this whole night is a waste of time. <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/Emmys?src=hash">#Emmys</a> <a href="https://t.co/LJWplHx3Zg">pic.twitter.com/LJWplHx3Zg</a></p>— Avery Mills (@alynn422) <a href="https://twitter.com/alynn422/status/909572475691843584">September 18, 2017</a>
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<p id="0vbJC5">Melissa McCarthy’s face sums it up: <em>welp</em>. Colbert had some great bits Sunday night: <a href="https://www.gq.com/story/emmys-2017-stephen-colbert-westworld">His <em>Westworld </em>spoof</a>, silly and cerebral, was the only time tonight that I was glad to be reminded that <em>Westworld </em>exists. He kept things moving, such that all three hours of these Emmys were mercifully free of the leaden, icky, infinite-sadness feeling most award shows of both greater and lesser prestige tend to give you. But bringing Spicer up in the flesh to reprise the “record crowds” line will be the night’s signature moment, both comedically and politically, for better and for worse. If you hated that joke, it was hard to love any of the rest of them. </p>
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<p lang="en" dir="ltr">SEAN SPICER IN THE GREEN ROOM STANDING ALONE STARING AT HIS PHONE</p>— billy eichner (@billyeichner) <a href="https://twitter.com/billyeichner/status/909582108904923137">September 18, 2017</a>
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<p id="fbBAAv">The shows that won big, from <em>Saturday Night Live </em>to <a href="https://www.theringer.com/tv/2017/9/15/16310156/reed-morano-emmys-handmaids-tale"><em>The Handmaid’s Tale</em></a><em> </em>to <em>Veep</em> to <em>Big Little Lies </em>(whose stars were described as everything from “girls” to “an incredible tribe of fierce women,” depending on who was hailing them), all had morbid Trump Administration overtones, but none of the victors hammered too hard at that in their various speeches. Kate McKinnon being cut short the second she hailed Hillary Clinton’s “grace and grit” kinda sums it up: It’s fairly obvious why shows like <em>The</em> <em>Handmaid’s Tale </em>or <em>SNL</em> are resonating at the moment, but the Emmys, at least, figure that it hits harder if the victors don’t hit that point too hard. </p>
<p id="UVzCn3">The randomly political mood might’ve been best summed up by <a href="http://www.billboard.com/articles/news/7965957/dolly-parton-lily-tomlin-jane-fonda-emmys-2017">the <em>9 to 5</em> reunion of Jane Fonda, Dolly Parton, and Lily Tomlin</a>, who mixed pointed barbs about “a sexist, egotistical, lying, hypocritical bigot boss” with Dolly’s ever-delightful jokes about her bustiness. Her crack about nicknaming her breasts “Shock” and “Awe” is an excellent example of the Comedy = Tragedy + Time equation in action. It is hard to know in 2017 what to laugh at, how loud to laugh, when to stop laughing, and who to laugh in the presence of. Spicer’s shock cameo was a jarring reminder of the polarized world this show was taking place in, and a jarring indication that some of that world’s most polarizing combatants would rather you not see them as combatants at all, not anymore. </p>
<p class="c-end-para" id="ngr1bS">Colbert, on the Emmy stage as on <a href="http://www.vulture.com/2017/03/stephen-colbert-how-he-got-his-groove-back.html">his resurgent talk show,</a> doesn’t shy away from political brinksmanship, and he never tries to hide whose side he’s on. But his devotion, on this stage at least, is to the joke above all. In the midst of an impossible era, Colbert had an impossible job tonight: Entertain people who now very often feel profoundly guilty for wanting to be entertained at all. As a viewing experience, in the oft-reviled context of puffy award shows, he did a fantastic job. He just didn’t do the job a lot of people might’ve wanted him to do. </p>
https://www.theringer.com/tv/2017/9/18/16324802/emmys-2017-stephen-colbert-host-sean-spicerRob Harvilla2017-09-17T21:35:40-04:002017-09-17T21:35:40-04:00Stephen Colbert Let Sean Spicer Crash the Emmys
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<p>The surprise cameo was certainly a strange choice</p> <p id="Q6uYZp"><a href="https://www.theringer.com/tv/2017/9/13/16303070/everything-you-need-to-read-about-the-2017-emmys"><em>Click here for all our Emmys coverage.</em></a></p>
<p id="LHWvd9">In his opening monologue at the 69th Primetime Emmy Awards, Stephen Colbert wasted no time addressing the elephant <s>in the room</s> who’s probably watching from the White House: Donald Trump. As usual, Colbert was unforgiving in his critique of the president. He focused his remarks on the ways Hollywood can do its part to stand up to the Trump regime. He singled out Alec Baldwin, the actor who parodied no. 45 last season on <em>Saturday Night Live</em>, reminding him of his obligation to stand “neck to neck” with Trump before making a joke about the president’s unsightly gizzard. Then something shocking happened. Colbert mentioned the size of the Emmys audience and noted, “Unfortunately, at this point we have no way of knowing how big our audience is.” Then, this:</p>
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<p lang="en" dir="ltr">.<a href="https://twitter.com/seanspicer">@seanspicer</a> borrows <a href="https://twitter.com/melissamccarthy">@melissamccarthy</a>'s podium for a surprise appearance at the <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/Emmys?src=hash">#Emmys</a> <a href="https://t.co/xGOezHygVa">pic.twitter.com/xGOezHygVa</a></p>— Variety (@Variety) <a href="https://twitter.com/Variety/status/909572284142227456">September 18, 2017</a>
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<p id="VRPuLs">Former White House press secretary Sean Spicer emerged from backstage behind a podium with the words “THE EMMYS HOLLYWOOD” emblazoned across it, a facsimile of the one he frequently stood behind at the White House. In rather triumphant “look, they let me in on the joke”<em> </em>fashion, he announced, “This will be the largest audience to witness an Emmys period. Both in person and around the world.” </p>
<p id="Frym2S">This, of course, is not the first time we’ve seen Spicer since he resigned from his post as press secretary two months ago. Earlier this month it was<a href="http://www.politico.com/story/2017/09/05/sean-spicer-new-job-242309"> reported</a> that Spicer will embark on a national speaking tour this fall, and just last week he appeared on <em>Jimmy Kimmel Live! </em>to talk about his time as a federal employee. Still, it was a strange move for Colbert and CBS to make. Turning Spicer—a key accessory to the same presidential misdeeds that they spent the preceding moments critiquing—into a playful award-show side gag doesn’t exactly keep in step with the <em>Hollywood Must Hold Trump To Task </em>gospel they seemed to be preaching. Regardless, it certainly got a rise out of the members of the audience, including one<a href="https://pbs.twimg.com/media/DJ9zVs2VAAAZhaJ.jpg"> Melissa McCarthy</a>. And definitely <em>Veep</em>’s Anna Chlumsky:</p>
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<p lang="en" dir="ltr">This is my Zapruder film. <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/Emmys?src=hash">#Emmys</a> <a href="https://t.co/bVrCrmbeAr">pic.twitter.com/bVrCrmbeAr</a></p>— Vulture (@vulture) <a href="https://twitter.com/vulture/status/909582842518278144">September 18, 2017</a>
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<p class="c-end-para" id="aEIsvp">The moment is already reverberating <a href="https://twitter.com/JarettSays/status/909571967182766080">across the internet </a>and will likely be one of the most memorable moments of the ceremony. Being memorable isn’t always the best thing, though.</p>
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https://www.theringer.com/pop-culture/2017/9/17/16324150/sean-spicer-emmys-awards-cameo-stephen-colbert-monologueJordan Coley2017-09-15T08:30:20-04:002017-09-15T08:30:20-04:00How Reed Morano Turned ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’ Into an Emmys Favorite
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<p>The series’ first season earned 13 nominations, and two in the directing category—including one for Morano herself</p> <p id="tUtleF"><a href="https://www.theringer.com/tv/2017/9/13/16303070/everything-you-need-to-read-about-the-2017-emmys"><em>Click here for all our Emmys coverage.</em></a></p>
<p class="p--has-dropcap" id="Tj6Ydb">At first, Reed Morano wasn’t considered a big-enough name to direct <em>The Handmaid’s Tale. </em>“I met with MGM and I met with Hulu, and it was kind of like, ‘That’s a big kid’s job,’ you know?” the filmmaker tells me over the phone in late August. The Margaret Atwood adaptation, which spent years in development, was earmarked as Hulu’s entry into the Prestige TV wars; with beloved source material, television’s most acclaimed performer, and an unexpected dose of uncomfortable timeliness, <em>The Handmaid’s Tale </em>was virtually guaranteed to make waves. But even before the election or Elisabeth Moss’s involvement, Morano was hooked by the script, which is why she pushed for the opportunity to pitch executives in the first place. “My agents were like, ‘They’re after a very big director right now, so just tell them you like it,’” she laughs.</p>
<p id="UZukMi">After spending the bulk of her career as a cinematographer — she was inducted into the American Society of Cinematographers in 2013, as one of just 12 women, and the youngest member at the time, and the job remains her <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1543747/?ref_=nv_sr_1">primary designation</a> on IMDb — Morano, now 40, had just recently transitioned into directing. Her debut feature, <em>Meadowland</em>, an indie drama starring Olivia Wilde and Luke Wilson, was <a href="http://www.newsweek.com/2015/10/23/reed-morano-and-olivia-wildes-meadowland-challenges-hollywood-sexism-381679.html">shot in just 22 days</a> and released in October 2015. From there, she began to work in episodic television, on prestige-heavy HBO series like <em>Looking</em>, <em>Vinyl</em>, and, most notably, parts of Beyoncé’s HBO special/visual album, <em>Lemonade. </em>By the time she was lobbying for the <em>Handmaid</em>’s job, Morano had directed episodes of acclaimed shows like <em>Billions </em>and <em>Halt and Catch Fire, </em>but she still hadn’t taken on the daunting task of building a brand-new series from the ground up, a milestone for <a href="https://www.theringer.com/tv/2017/9/6/16260860/michelle-maclaren-the-deuce-interview">even the most experienced</a> TV directors.</p>
<p id="qHqa9l">“Once episodic directors come in, it’s a little different. You are coming in as a hired gun. This is someone else’s house; you’re gonna come in and you’re gonna not reinvent the wheel, but hopefully leave it better than you came,” Morano explains of the TV directing process. “The beginning is where you have the control, and where you have the voice as a storyteller.” Hence why the job was important enough that producers were reluctant to offer it to a relative novice. Eventually, Morano wouldn’t just direct the pilot; she’d oversee <em>Handmaid</em>’s first three episodes, nearly a third of the drama’s freshman season.</p>
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<img alt="Elisabeth Moss" data-mask-text="false" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/TGu01B6UExf62VPLBi8gQ--Pq7c=/800x0/filters:no_upscale()/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/9250873/831681514.jpg">
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<p id="WK7LpO">To get there, Morano was persistent. “Time passed, and I just kept checking in with my agents: ‘What’s the deal with <em>Handmaid’s Tale</em>?<em> </em>Did they hire anyone yet? Did they hire anyone yet?’” she recounts. “At a certain point, I was just like, ‘Walk away. Maybe I’m not gonna get that opportunity, because it’s such a high-profile job.’” But then she read that Moss, who’d had a supporting role in <em>Meadowland </em>and with whom Morano had remained friendly, had been cast as Offred, the “Handmaid” whose narration introduces the reader to the repressive theocracy known as Gilead. Morano emailed the actress to congratulate her, mentioned she’d been trying to pitch on the series, and about a week later, got the call inviting her to do so. “I think the way it went down was, she mentioned my name, but [executive producer] Warren [Littlefield] already had my name on a list,” Morano explains. “It kind of worked out where they decided to start looking for a new voice, because they felt like it might benefit this particular show. That was lucky for me, because they were willing to take a big risk and hire somebody who hadn’t directed a pilot before.”</p>
<p id="fagGvm">With her opening trio of episodes, Morano guided <em>The Handmaid’s Tale </em>through the Peak TV noise to critical acclaim, despite some late-season stumbles. <em>Handmaid</em>’s channeling of a very particular set of political fears may have been accidental, but the harrowing urgency it conveys through the story of one woman’s suffering is not. Morano’s direction was instrumental to establishing the series’<em> </em>arresting, insistently specific tone — and, in part, for the 13 nominations it received this Emmys season, including Outstanding Drama Series, Outstanding Lead and Guest Actress (Alexis Bledel won the latter this past weekend; Elisabeth Moss is likely to win the former on Sunday), and Morano’s own. She’s not even the only <em>Handmaid</em>’s director being considered for Sunday night’s honor; Kate Dennis was also nominated for Season 1’s penultimate “The Bridge.” <em>Handmaid</em>’s is the only series in its director’s category to receive multiple nods.</p>
<p class="p--has-dropcap" id="fffAUm">To start the adaptation process, Morano put together an exhaustive treatment, with “pages and pages” on the use of sound design alone. Despite her meticulous preparation, the overall philosophy Morano describes to me is much more intuitive. “It was on feeling,” Morano replies when I ask for specifics on the show’s sound. “There was no rule for that. It was more like, when I needed to put the audience more into her perspective, then I would utilize sound to create that atmosphere. But unfortunately, there’s no formula for that, because it’s based on an emotional need on a scene-by-scene basis.”</p>
<p id="eX47YP">Behind all those individual decisions is an overarching standard that Morano rigorously applied to every scene. “The idea of making a first-person point-of-view story is not, like, such an original concept; that’s how Margaret wrote the book,” Morano admits. “But the thing is, there’s a tendency — a lot of books are written in first person, and when books are translated to film or television, they aren’t always told cinematically in a first-person way.” The goal became to put the viewer in Moss-as-Offred’s perspective by whatever means Morano had at her disposal: “You have to think a little bit harder about how you cover scenes, and in particular, many scenes where nothing’s really happening. There’s just a person standing in a room with a bonnet on, and there’s paragraphs and paragraphs of voice-over. It’s about putting yourself in the character’s POV and thinking about, ‘What is she focusing on in that moment?’ Those are the things you shoot.”</p>
<p id="TzNwJI">Sometimes, grounding the audience in forced-surrogate Offred and her experiences required a very literal choice. Hence the series’ signature shot: an extreme close-up, captured with a wide lens, of Moss’s almost impossibly expressive face, framed for emphasis by the white-winged bonnet that Handmaids must wear as part of their uniform. Possibly the most sickening shot of an already extremely stressful pilot is filmed directly from Offred’s perspective: during the Ceremony, a monthly ritualized rape in which Gilead’s Commanders attempt to impregnate the women their regime has forced into de facto slavery, Morano’s camera looks down Moss’s crimson-clad body at the Commander thrusting in slow motion. The sound is muffled, true to Morano’s attention to detail; the scene is crucial to communicating the horror of Gilead’s dystopia.</p>
<p id="RrXfqP">World-building was another key component of Morano’s duties as pilot director. To create the mood of a rigidly governed autocratic society, “there would be very symmetrical, claustrophobic framings that feel disconcerting in their symmetry,” as she explains. Remember, for example, the image of two identically dressed Handmaids, stripped of their individuality, walking side by side to the grocery store, or the stately yet airless interiors of the mansion where Offred is stationed. The symmetry contrasts with the more verité tone of Offred’s point of view, whether in present day or in flashbacks. The very first scene of the pilot, a chase scene in which Offred (then June), her husband, and their daughter attempt to cross the Canadian border, is memorably shot with a handheld camera, with a frantic shakiness that causes the stillness of Offred’s current cell to come as even more of a shock.</p>
<div class="c-float-left"> <figure class="e-image">
<img alt="Bruce Miller, Reed Morano, and Warren Littlefield" data-mask-text="false" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/Uk1iM0Nz5DQ1ptS4oM6TusS6XCQ=/800x0/filters:no_upscale()/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/9250885/831695578.jpg">
<cite>Photo by Alberto E. Rodriguez/Getty Images</cite>
<figcaption>Bruce Miller, Reed Morano, and Warren Littlefield</figcaption>
</figure>
</div>
<p id="iMZnyX">Morano also worked closely with showrunner Bruce Miller, producers Littlefield and Moss, production designer Julie Berghoff, and costume designer Ane Crabtree to make creative decisions that don’t typically fall under a TV director’s job description. “I think there’s this idea that, when you come in as a pilot director, you’re <em>just </em>setting the look,” Morano sighs. “And it’s like, no no no. You’re not just setting the look! You’re creating the characters with the actors! You are the first person to guide them through their first scenes, to work out with them who they’re gonna be! You’re the person working with the production designer, and the cinematographer, and the costume designer!” Morano and Berghoff decided jointly, for example, to make the mansion’s living room “just the tiniest bit of a shade off” from the dress its mistress, Serena Joy, wears at all times; Serena is superficially in her domain, but there’s a subtle cue she’s not entirely at ease in her own home. “I’m looking at it from not only a directorial perspective, but from a cinematographer’s perspective,” she says. “What’s going to be really striking on camera?”</p>
<p id="yCekfT">Now that she’s a full-time director with multiple features in the pipeline — including <em>The Rhythm Section</em>, a <a href="http://deadline.com/2017/07/blake-lively-reed-morano-team-espionage-thriller-feature-movie-1202127618/">“Jason Bourne–type” drama</a> starring Blake Lively, and <em>I Think We’re Alone Now</em>, a postapocalyptic story with Elle Fanning and Peter Dinklage to be released next year — Morano’s background as a cinematographer has proved useful in other ways. It’s been a practical help, giving Morano “a front-row seat in a million different scenarios” that left her with the resourcefulness and know-how to soldier through TV’s compressed shooting schedule. The <em>Handmaid’s Tale </em>pilot was shot in 12 days, with the second and third episodes allotted eight days apiece.</p>
<p id="MWS88o">But Morano’s years of operating the camera have proved a boon creatively as well. “I always felt like a connection between the camera and the actors is a very intimate connection when done correctly,” she posits. “I spent a lot of years honing that skill for other directors, where I could get really close to the characters with the camera — not just physically, but emotionally. That was a great gift. I learned how to be sensitive with the actors and also understand them, to be able to shoot them in a way that allowed them to have the freedom to take risks and express themselves, where they always felt supported and that they could do anything.”</p>
<p class="c-end-para" id="01T5Uc">Morano’s relative lack of directorial experience may have initially been a strike against her; in practice, she argues, it’s only made her a better director. “When you’ve only directed things, you don’t have the chance to have that experience on other people’s jobs and take that risk — because when you’re directing, the stakes are so high for you,” she says. Instead, Morano has cultivated a more personalized ethos she brought along with her to the director’s chair — and soon, enough, the Emmys. Her logic is simple: “If you can be free with the camera and flexible, then really amazing things can happen in front of the camera.”</p>
https://www.theringer.com/tv/2017/9/15/16310156/reed-morano-emmys-handmaids-taleAlison Herman