The Art of Cringe: Webby Awards

This is bad, I had my head in my hand with my eyes closed in disbelief. Who is this for?

Most award shows instil a confidence in the audience. “Hey, Daft Punk won a Grammy, that’s been on my workout iPod for months! I win at music!” Or rooting for an actor to win an Oscar for a role still haunting your dreams (I’m looking at you Brent Spiner! ) What confidence does this instil in anyone? Has anyone ever said with a straight face, “Fucking-a, I knew Nyan cat was gonna get it. That award done belong to you, Gungnam Style!”?

The general feeling here is no one really wants to be there. The host is annoying and loud, no doubt coached on by a producer in a flawed attempt at enthusiasm. People sit stone face as Scumbag Steven runs up an aisle way. The sound of laughter could be equated to mass indigestion. When everyone in the room is exuding thought waves of “oh god how long will this last just end…” it pours out of video in the speeches and the body language.

Cringe Worthy: SNL ’80

I like cringe humor, probably why I have stuck with The Office far longer than any sane person should. It’s a hard thing to pull off right, the current king is Louis CK and his fantastic show Louie of FX.

Then, there’s unintentional cringe humor which Saturday Night Live excels at. Ninety minutes of TV is hard, the vice-like grip pacing the show and producers put on the actors and the authentically live performances either squeezes out gems but really, let’s face it, most of the time it’s pretty bad. I won’t labor the point because other nerds have done it better.

My eyes were opened to the 1980 season of the show which had a new producer, new cast, a 2/3rd budget cut from the preceeding year, and a new weirdly dated name: Saturday Night Live 80. If they planned on adding a new number each season like a yearbook cover, like most of the season, it didn’t stick. From the AVCLUB coverage of it, I wish I was around when the show aired because it looks like an entire episode could go by with hardly a laugh; even at the height of the Sans/Fallon on-air giggle fests this sounds like a heroic effort.

Here’s a sample from the show; I hope it loads without a 30 second washing machine ad before it. It’s 1980 and in South Carolina (which by New Yorker standards is as far away and mysterious as the Gobi Desert), a bunch of good ol’ boys are out for a ritual Commie hunt. The first minute is cringe worthy at it’s finest (or worst).