Travolta leans in, grosses out
Inside the Dolby Theatre, people were waiting to win things and patiently waiting for people to stop winning things. John Travolta was among the latter waiters, and was probably enjoying himself well enough, blissfully unaware of how grossed out everyone in the world was by the objectively creepy kiss he planted on the cheek of Scarlett Johansson. Just look at it! It is creepy.
Some questions: What inspired this Bidenesque public display of grabby intergenerational affection? Are they good like that? Did we/she know this? Does one just go touching a flawless green Atelier Versace gown like that? Does one just go touching Scarlett Johansson like that? Does John Travolta even know how to pronounce the wickedly talented Scarlett Johansson’s name? Did this chummy tummy touching authorize the similarly creepy touching of Idina Menzel/Adele Dazeem’s face on the Oscar stage just hours later? (Though he did get her name right this time.) Also: How bad does ScarJo want to morph into “Lucy” for a sec to deliver a single superhuman defensive high kick? Finally, can we go back and stop this from happening? How?
That concludes this short rumination on the gross Travolta red carpet kiss incident of 2015. May we never speak of it again.