The PEN15 Club

Hollywood’s love affair with the rose-stemmin’ sheep wranglers of Brokeback Mountain continued unabated, as the year’s top weeper scored trophies for Best Drama, Best Director, Best Screenplay and Best Song. Rounding out what is shaping up to be the queeniest year ever in movie awards, Philip Seymour Hoffman’s insatiable bottom Capote and Felicity Huffman’s Transamerica Mister Sister won the top dramatic acting awards. Other highlights:

• Moo-riah presenting Best Original Song in a gown that made it look like her breasts were attempting a Prison Break.
• Jonathan Rhys Meyers’ profoundly coked-up Elvis acceptance speech was nearly topped in incoherence by Joaquin Phoenix, who won for Walk the Line. Later, the two were seen later hanging out together (sniff) by the bar (sniff sniff).
• Presenter Jamie Foxx somehow managed to mispronounce nominee Laura Linney’s name. Lau-ra. Lin-ney. It’s not that hard. Soon after, when Harrison Ford called Tony Kushner “Tony Kershner,” he at least had an excuse: He was holding his wine glass the whole time.
• Collagen addict Melanie Griffith (”star of the WB’s Twins!”) was ignominiously hauled onstage, her white trash deltoid tattoo proudly exposed. She was tasked with introducing Miss Golden Globe, the nepotism recipient responsible for standing silently and handing trophies to people who’ve actually accomplished something. This year, Griffith announced, it was her own daughter, Dakota (ugh) Johnson, who then joined her mother onstage, looking like she was about to throw up. I swear to God - there’s no other way to describe the look of absolute terror and nausea that struck this girl’s countenance as she stood silently behind the microphone and clutched her mother’s arm. After Melanie finished talking, the two rushed to the wings, where Dakota presumably ralphed all over the nearest lowly PA.
• Dennis Quaid said that Brokeback Mountain is the type of film that rhymes with “chick flick,” a line I really hope he didn’t write.
• Ryan Phillippe’s affectionate man-handling of Reese Witherspoon when her win was announced suggests they’re genuinely in love, which depresses us for some reason.
• Mary-Louise Parker was blatantly unamused by presenter Chris Rock’s jokes about her show Weeds. But who didn’t appreciate her declaration that she wants to make out with co-star Elizabeth Perkins?
• Anthony Hopkins’ Cecil B. DeMille Award proves once again that no great actor has starred in so few good movies. In fact, 90% of Hopkins’ career is composed of howlers and duds. After clips of the usual suspects - Howards End, Nixon, The Remains of the Day, The Bounty, The Elephant Man, The Silence of the Lambs - rolled by, we wondered, “what, are they gonna show Meet Joe Black?” And they promptly did. Along with Bad Company. And Instinct. And Surviving Picasso. And Amistad. And Magic. Somehow, Freejack, The Road to Wellville and Bram Stoker’s Dracula failed to make the cut. And doughy, preggers presenter Gwyneth Paltrow’s irritating insistence on referring to Hopkins as “Antony” made us want to slap her even more than usual.