Hollywood is a weird place. One minute everyone is hugging and crying about "the craft," and the next, a guy in a tuxedo is telling them to their faces that they’re basically irrelevant. If you’ve spent any time on the internet in the last few years, you’ve probably seen the clip. It’s the Golden Globes God joke—or rather, the moment Ricky Gervais decided to scorched-earth the Beverly Hilton.
It wasn't just one line. It was a vibe shift.
When Gervais stood up there in 2020 for his fifth and final time hosting, he didn't just poke fun at movies. He went for the soul of the industry. He told a room full of the most powerful people in the world that they were in no position to lecture the public about anything because they "spent less time in school than Greta Thunberg." But the real kicker, the thing that everyone still searches for, was his jab at their moral grandstanding and the way he invoked the "big guy" upstairs—or the lack thereof—to highlight the absurdity of the evening.
The anatomy of the Golden Globes God joke
Why does this specific bit stick in our collective craw? It’s because award shows are usually a giant circle of self-congratulation. Gervais flipped the script. He basically told them that if they won an award, they should come up, accept the little gold statue, thank their agent and "your God," and then "f*** off."
It was brutal.
The joke works because it targets the performative nature of celebrity activism. Gervais wasn't necessarily making a theological point about whether God exists. He was making a point about how celebrities use God, or politics, or any "higher power" to justify their own sense of importance. Most people watching at home felt a visceral sense of catharsis. Finally, someone was saying what we all think when we see a multi-millionaire crying about a trophy.
Honestly, the reaction shots were better than the jokes themselves. You had Tom Hanks looking genuinely concerned, like he was watching a car crash in slow motion. Apple CEO Tim Cook was sitting right there when Gervais slammed the company’s use of sweatshops. It was uncomfortable. It was mean. It was perfect.
🔗 Read more: Blink-182 Mark Hoppus: What Most People Get Wrong About His 2026 Comeback
The ripple effect on award show culture
Since that Golden Globes God joke moment, the show hasn't really been the same. We saw a period where the Globes almost vanished entirely due to internal scandals regarding the HFPA's lack of diversity and unethical practices. But even after the "reforms," there’s a shadow hanging over the podium.
Hosts now have a choice: do they play it safe and risk being boring, or do they try to "pull a Gervais"?
The problem is that most people aren't Ricky Gervais. You saw what happened with Jo Koy in 2024. He tried to lean into the "I'm just a guy telling it like it is" persona, but it landed with a thud. Why? Because Gervais’s brand of cynicism felt earned. He didn't care if they liked him. In fact, he seemed to prefer it if they hated him. That kind of "don't give a damn" attitude is hard to fake.
Why we keep coming back to that 2020 monologue
Social media loves a villain, or a truth-teller, depending on your perspective. Every time the Golden Globes roll around, the Golden Globes God joke starts trending again. It’s a digital artifact of a time when the "Fourth Wall" of celebrity worship finally cracked.
Think about the context. 2020 was right on the cusp of the world changing forever. We were tired of being lectured. The joke resonated because it acted as a pressure valve. When he told them "you're in no position to lecture the public about anything," he wasn't just talking to the actors in the room. He was talking for the millions of people who felt the disconnect between Hollywood's messaging and reality.
- The viral nature of the clip: It's short, punchy, and aggressive.
- The "cancel culture" era: Gervais leaned into the idea that he couldn't be cancelled because he simply didn't want the job anyway.
- The shift in power: Streaming was taking over, and the old guard of Hollywood felt increasingly out of touch.
Is the "mean host" trope dead?
Kinda. After the 2020 backlash—or success, depending on who you ask—producers got scared. They wanted "warm and fuzzy" again. They wanted the Ellen DeGeneres pizza-delivery vibes. But the audience? We’re different now. We’ve seen behind the curtain.
💡 You might also like: Why Grand Funk’s Bad Time is Secretly the Best Pop Song of the 1970s
When Jerrod Carmichael hosted in 2023, he brought a different kind of honesty. He was blunt about the HFPA’s racism. It wasn't exactly the Golden Globes God joke style of humor, but it was a direct descendant of it. It was the "uncomfortable truth" school of hosting.
The reality is that the Golden Globes need that tension to survive. Without the threat of someone saying something "offensive," it’s just another three-hour marketing presentation for movies that half the audience hasn't seen.
The technical side of the joke's success
If you analyze the writing of that monologue, it’s a masterclass in pacing. He starts with the "easy" targets—the length of the Irishman, the irrelevance of the ceremony. Then he tightens the noose. By the time he gets to the bit about God and the "f*** off" punchline, he has already established that he is the most dangerous person in the room.
He uses "the God joke" as a punctuation mark. It’s the final dismissal. It says: "Nothing you do tonight matters in the grand scheme of things, so don't act like it does."
It’s also worth noting that Gervais has a long history of playing with atheist themes in his stand-up. For him, the Golden Globes God joke wasn't a one-off. It was a distillation of his entire worldview. He finds the idea of celebrities thanking a creator for a Best Supporting Actor win to be the height of narcissism. And, honestly, he’s not wrong.
How to watch award shows now
If you’re looking for that same high, you’re probably going to be disappointed by most modern broadcasts. Everything is hyper-vetted now. Publicists have more power than ever. The "God joke" was a glitch in the matrix—a moment where the PR machine failed, and the raw, cynical truth got through.
📖 Related: Why La Mera Mera Radio is Actually Dominating Local Airwaves Right Now
To truly understand the impact, you have to look at the numbers. Clips of that 2020 monologue have hundreds of millions of views across YouTube and TikTok. The actual show's ratings? Those have been in a tailspin for years. People would rather watch a three-minute clip of a guy insulting celebrities than watch the celebrities themselves.
That tells you everything you need to know about the state of the industry.
Practical takeaways from the Gervais era
If you're a creator, or even just someone who likes to follow pop culture, there are a few things to learn from why the Golden Globes God joke worked so well.
First, authenticity is the only currency that matters anymore. People can smell a scripted, "safe" joke a mile away. Gervais worked because he felt dangerous. Second, know your audience. He knew the people in the room would hate it, but he knew the people watching at home would love it. He chose his side.
Finally, don't be afraid to be the "bad guy" if the "good guys" are being fake. The reason that joke still circulates in 2026 is that it felt like a moment of sanity in a very insane environment.
To keep up with how award shows are evolving, pay attention to the writers' rooms. The shift back toward "roast" culture is happening in smaller pockets of the internet, even if the big networks are too scared to embrace it fully. Watch for independent commentators who are filling the void Gervais left behind. The era of the untouchable celebrity is over, and we have a very specific, very mean joke about God to thank for helping push it over the edge.
Go back and watch the full 2020 monologue if you haven't seen it in a while. Pay attention to the silence in the room compared to the roar of the internet. That gap is where the real story of modern entertainment lives.