Award Central News

For Golden Globe vets, the short evening was dreamlike, both familiar and unfamiliar. As usual, it took place in the hotel's International Ballroom, with the usual pre-event shmoozing. But there was no red carpet, no screaming crowds (just a handful of well-behaved gawkers) and no limo gridlock in the hotel's driveway. And, crucially, there were no stars.

"It's the first time the HFPA instructed security to keep people IN," deadpanned one attendee.

Inside the Ballroom, the joint was jumping, in an off-kilter way. There were about 500 folks -- 55 TV crews, with anchors patiently standing around while their crew adjusted the lighting, while 40 still photographers roamed around and print journalists either sat at tables with their laptops or on chairs writing in notepads.

At one point, a half-hour before airtime, the photographers went wild: Mary Hart had arrived! It was the celebrity high point of the evening.

The good news is that with the flood of kudocasts, many in the biz complain that there were too many and they all look alike. The 65th annual Golden Globes ceremony was like no other.

Many were agog at the results, but it's what you expect when the Hollywood Foreign Press Assn. and Dick Clark Prods. pulled together a nationally televised awards show in 48 hours. But after months of negotiations and 10 days of intense wrangling among the WGA and NBC, HFPA and longtime Globes ceremony producer Dick Clark Prods. took over on Friday.

Al Schwartz, a 14-year producer on the event for Dick Clark Prods., described the event as a "kamikaze mission," arranging for the set, the presenters, clip packages and satellite trucks in two days. "It's like anything in Hollywood: You have no time to get things done, but somehow you do."

Those who arrived at the hotel Sunday afternoon were told that, contrary to belief, the show would probably last a half-hour. When it was an NBC News event, it was skedded as a one-hour TV event.

The seams were showing, mostly in the confusion of the attendees. Many walked around with furrowed brows and slack jaws, obviously confused by the whole thing. Everyone had questions. Will there be a list of winners available? How long will this last? What is going to happen exactly? And, crucially, where is the food? (There was a modest buffet in the back of the room, with a more elaborate spread following the announcement.)

The hasty planning was also apparent a few hours before the start of the show, as a dozen crew members adjusted the lighting and the set. (Six square columns on stage that proudly proclaimed "Golden Globe Awards" were taken from their usual perch on the driveway.)

HFPA members circulated, some in a festive mood, others looking like a host who just found out the cook has burned the entree.

When first driving up to the Hilton, it was a complete turnaround from the usual Globes frenzy. Things were so quiet that one wag said it looked like an outtake from "I Am Legend."

"It's like a non-event," said Kyle Batty, a Beverly Hills Police Dept. officer who sat perched his motorcycle out in front of the hotel at the Wilshire and Whittier, eating a Starbucks pastry while gazing at the emptiness. Another member of Beverly Hills' finest said the police contingent was down from 90 for a typical Globes ceremony to under a dozen.

Approaching the place, there were few signs of anything out of the ordinary, but also few outward signs that a major awards event was about to take place. A few folks who identified themselves as below-the-line workers stood at the Santa Monica Boulevard entrance to the hotel with hand-lettered signs pleading "Honk to support out-of-work crews." At one point there were six picketers and five TV crews filming them.

The mostly impromptu protest was organized by a group of nurses who work for studios and on film and TV location shoots and belong to IATSE Local 767.

"We're not choosing sides. We just want the public to know that we're the ones who are affected by this strike," said Karen Kovacic, a nurse and Local 767 member. "We're the crew people who operate the cameras, we do the hair and makeup, we are the nurses on set. And we're sitting around not working. It was a really rough Christmas at my house."

Inside the ballroom, there were the usual hallmarks of an awards show before the start: Publicists on cell phones in the back of the room, crews jostling for the best place, and attendees photographing one another with cell phones. The big difference is there were only a handful of folks in black tie.

"It's like an Irish wake where there's food and drink but somebody is missing," said Kevin Jacobsen, a guard with Elite Agency that handles security for the event.

By airtime, the place was jammed. As the six presenters sat onstage, the photogs clicked like crazy, while a foreign journalist wondered aloud, "Who ARE these people, does anybody know?"

Despite fears that WGA sympathizers might try to disrupt the live newser, the telecast was protest-free other than a few benign comments from the award presenters and HFPA prexy Jorge Camara's earnest plea: "We all hope that the writers strike will be over soon so that everybody can go back to making good movies and television, which is what the Golden Globes is designed to celebrate."

Consistent with the evening, the announcement of winners was surreal. The presenters seemed to rattle through the list, covering three hours' worth of winners in 30 minutes. But the applause was certainly respectable: Even though no contenders were present, everyone knew that the winners were out there ... somewhere. So, this being Hollywood, let's give those phantoms a hand.

In all, it was a memorable evening, though not memorable in the way anyone intended a few months ago. But it raises a philosophical question. If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around, does it make a sound? Similarly, if you win an award in Hollywood, but there is no red carpet, no kiss from the presenter, no acceptance speech and no interviews backstage, did you really win?

(Cynthia Littleton, Bill Higgins and Steven Gaydos contributed to this report.)