

It did happen a couple of times or we’d all still be watching. Some acceptance speeches drifted on into “Johnny and Debbie, daddy’s won so go to bed” territory, making me feel something I never thought I would–a longing for when the orchestra plays somebody off. The actual ad breaks seemed unusually short and were mainly CBC promos, almost as if real advertisers took a pass on the traditionally low-rated affair. There were awards given out to Canadian films, too, which provided plenty of time to go to the fridge or the bathroom, a service not found on most other award shows.
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They could have instead, for example, actually presented the award for best reality show to John Brunton for the most-watched series in the nation– The Amazing Race Canada–instead of dismissively bringing champagne to Brunton in the audience. It didn’t seem to relate to anything and pushed the show eight minutes into overtime.

The strangest part of the night was an up with women moment where a Carole King song was sung from the stage. The clips went on forever, stooping into “Clifford” (shudder), but Short was smart and entertaining as ever in response, paying homage as he does so movingly in his autobiography to his late wife Nancy. Levy’s set up to Short’s lifetime achievement award was a clinic on doing deadpan. It helped, of course, that much of the evening was a salute to Candy’s former SCTV mates, Eugene Levy, Catherine O’Hara and Martin Short.īoth O’Hara and Levy made humble, gracious speeches accepting their acting honours. That Tremblay kid–who seemed to be trying to out-cute those new zoo pandas at times–took the hint with gusto on presenting the first award of the night, and few failed to keep it going after that. Norm decided they will be called the Candys, after a guy he correctly noted everybody loves, the late, great John Candy. People have called them the “Screenies,” which is both lame and cringe-worthy. His greatest service to the Canadian Screen Awards, however, was naming the damn trophies. Macdonald was going to come out as Colonel Sanders but chickened out This made him, of course, even more perfect and relatable to me. Some jokes were just that old, such as the time he asked what curling stones were made of, and then said he took that for granite.
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He gave us full access to his inner mind, admitting it when he slipped into Bob Hope or Don Rickles-like moments.

He suggested, for example, that Tremblay and Christopher Plummer had one thing in common–they were both up past their bedtimes. Nobody even blinked, not even nine-year-old Jacob Tremblay.Īside from that the jokes were very family friendly. He even used language usually reserved for comedy clubs, dropping an F-bomb as he mocked Cape Breton as a getaway spot for Trump refugees. He goofed on being asked to host, suggesting he was too embarrassed to tell Oscar host Chris Rock what he was doing in Canada. He warned us we would hear the word “Schitts” at least 100 times. Macdonald has become a mid-life road warrior, performing stand up 300 times a year. Instead, Norm Macdonald kept his feet on the ground and his hands in his pockets, giving viewers a taste of his droll stand up set. There were no big song-and-dance production numbers, such as the ambitious Cirque du Soleil high wire act host Martin Short risked a few years ago. The Sony Centre was well lit and in focus. Sunday night in Toronto, the 4th annual Canadian Screen Awards was a rather straight ahead affair. Redesign the trophy, lose the ice scraper look, give us a bust of the guy with the snake on his face. They should always have been called The Candys, dammit.
