Why the Emmys needs to rethink its playoff music

There are established traditions for keeping speeches to a sensible length – but some are more likely than others to ignore them, says Clémence Michallon

How long is too long for acceptance speeches? (Shutterstock)

Is it awards season already? It would seem so. After a remote ceremony in 2020, the Emmys returned on Sunday in an in-person format, albeit with a limited number of attendees (who had to submit negative Covid tests and proof of vaccination.)

The main celebration took place in Los Angeles, with a contingent gathering in London as well. The Crown and The Queen’s Gambit were the top winners of the evening with 11 awards each, while Ted Lasso triumphed in seven categories. Among The Queen’s Gambit’s wins was one for Outstanding Directing for a Limited or Anthology Series or Movie. Fittingly, director Scott Frank took the stage to deliver his acceptance speech, and that’s when the wheels came off for a few memorable minutes.

Much like other awards ceremonies, the Emmys does what it can to limit the duration of acceptance speeches. Awards shows are always on a time crunch; there are dozens of awards to dole out, comedy skits, and ad breaks to take into account. For these reasons, winners are asked to keep their speech to a reasonable length. If they go over the allocated time, classical music starts playing, a polite reminder that it’s time to wrap it up.

The music played a few times on Sunday, with varying degrees of efficiency. Some people listened, some didn’t. And Scott Frank? He didn’t. He ignored the music once, twice, and then he did it again. He ignored the music three times.

Now, to be fair, I found the standard length of acceptance speeches on Sunday to be rather short. But three times? Three times seems excessive. (And honestly, it made for pretty stressful viewing! The clock was ticking!)

Frank’s refusal to be cut off sparked an important conversation about the politics of the playoff music. Now, let me get one thing out of the way: earlier in the evening, Debbie Allen had also ignored the playoff music – just once, if memory serves. That’s perfectly fine. She was receiving the Governors Award, aka an acknowledgment of her contributions to the arts throughout her entire career. Debbie Allen gets to ignore the playoff music. This was a momentous occasion, and her speech was moving and inspirational and necessary.

For everyone else, though, the politics of the playoff music are trickier. As Linda Holmes of NPR said: “On the topic of being played off, I would much rather hear speeches than bits. BUT. If there’s a time limit, either everybody (except a Debbie Allen, say) at least stays close, or it comes down to who just refuses to stop talking, and guess who’s most well-trained for that?” (The answer, of course, is white men.)

The problem with the playoff music is that if you’re used to being cut off – if you’re, say, a woman, and you’ve been made to feel uncomfortable for speaking up, or you’ve been trained to question your own legitimacy, then you are more likely to stop speaking than someone who’s been made to feel that their contributions are valuable, that their presence in a room is wanted and celebrated.

This is a problem for the Emmys, and one it should solve before next year’s ceremony. Maybe classical music is too tame. Maybe next time someone goes over the allotted time, we try a bit of heavy metal.

Yours,

Clémence Michallon

US culture writer