In the end, these Globes surprised us, uncontroversially rewarding obvious quality in some categories but passing over other huge achievements like Payal Kapadia’s All We Imagine As Light or Timothée Chalamet’s performance as Bob Dylan. (And entirely ignoring RaMell Ross’s masterly Nickel Boys still hurts.)
The megamusical Wicked, which had been winning hearts and minds and various levels of grudging and ungrudging acceptance (including from your correspondent) did not walk off with the award for best musical or comedy as we all expected, instead sent away with the Globe for “cinematic achievement”, the rather strange award instituted to acknowledge box office whoppers (including those in the now dowdy superhero genre) which otherwise get critical noses turned up at them, and for which the box office numbers themselves are surely the only meaningful arbiter.
