The 2009 Logie Awards. What did you miss? Pigs in suits and scrags in curtains. Vain attention seeking opportunists suffering relevance deprivation hoping to get lucky with one of the members of Hi5 but happy enough to go slops by standing next to Bud Tingwell when he sneezed.
It wasn’t a car crash this year. It was a 30-car pile up. I should have known. With nominees for best dramas including Home and Away (Bogans By The Sea) McLeod’s Daughters (Pony Porn) and Neighbors (So You Think You Can Act!) it was never going to be one of our finest moments. Kate Richie (Nice! Inoffensive! Pretty! Detonate now!) and Ian Smith (the fuddy duddy from Neighbors with no neck who doesn’t speak but gargles) being the Gold Logie favorites made me wish, during the In Memoriam package, that I were dead as well.
Packed To The Rafters (I See White People) and Underbelly Tale Of Two Titties (sure it’s drugs, swearing violence and tits but it’s Australian drugs, swearing, violence and tits) sweeping the pool is a chilling reminder that everything on telly is dumbed down, sexed up or ripped off. There was an epidemic of Stockholm Syndrome as talented actors gushed about fabulous scripts, amazing work and incredible experiences as they accepted awards for working on shit shows. Be Australian and take the piss you sucks.
This year’s Logies was so trashy it made The Brownlow Awards look like the Nobel Prize Ceremony. “So who are you wearing Stevo” “Some little thing I picked up on Chapel Street mate. I think her name’s Rhiannon and she reckons she’s 18”.
I was hopping Gretel Killeen would be fabulous because she is. But she wasn’t. And even she knew she wouldn’t be. Which explains her four costume changes. The day before I bumped into Joan Kirner and I thought of Gretel. Because they only let the chicks behind he wheel when it’s all down hill from here. Hello to Meredith Hellicar and Sue Morphet if you’re reading. The industry was thrilled because they love nothing more than putting the wrong woman into a thankless high profile job seeing her fail and using it as evidence to maintain their unashamed regime of beef for the blokes and chicken for the ladies.
Sarah Murdoch inducted Bill Collins, Mr. Movies, into the Logies Hall of Fame to recognize his passionate career of 46 years. You know her. She’s a model, and married to Rupert Murdoch’s son Lachlan. I’m not sure if her official title is ‘personality’ or ‘celebrity’. Regardless, it couldn’t have been a more offensive choice. Apparently Bindi Irwin couldn’t do it because she had a spelling bee the next day.
I don’t mind Rebecca Gibney wining the gold. I just wished she’d won it for something other than Aussie mumwho walks around holding a mug then goes to bed wearing a full face of make up. Gibney won best line of the night as she held her little statue and said, “proof nanas can text.”
My favorite moment was when the Footy Show lost. You didn’t need to be a lip reader to work out what Gary Lyon’s said. Love a sore loser. Particularly when it’s a pig in a suit.