Sequins, Shade, and Showdowns: Hollywood’s Biggest Names Shake Up the Critics’ Choice

Mia Reynolds, 1/5/2026Hollywood's Critics' Choice Awards promise glam and surprises as Chelsea Handler hosts this year's event. With 17 nominations for "Sinners" and fierce competition from "One Battle After Another," viewers can expect memorable moments, a diverse lineup of presenters, and fresh categories celebrating storytelling behind the scenes.

Chelsea Handler slips backstage, sneakers barely making a sound on polished concrete. As the show’s host, she’s settling in for her fourth go-around, probably flipping cue cards and eyeing her punchlines about this year’s more avant-garde outfits. There’s a wryness to her presence that suits the air of the evening—equal parts glitz, nerves, and cheeky irreverence.

This year, the Critics’ Choice ceremony preempts the Goldens, nudging its way to the front of the glory parade. It’s a bit like awarding class valedictorian before most of the tests are even graded, yet there’s method in this madness. After all, this show’s selections have a history of starting the domino run that ends in Oscar gold or Emmy glory. The night hums with that sense—every envelope just might tip the scales for what Hollywood’s next It Film or breakout TV darling will be.

Leading the big-screen stampede this year is “Sinners,” Ryan Coogler’s dazzling reinvention of the vampire genre, biting into a jaw-dropping 17 nominations—an honor that stands toe-to-toe with “Barbie’s” 2023 record. It’s no mere genre flick, either; “Sinners” has critics debating artistry and social subtext with the kind of fervor normally reserved for deeply earnest period pieces. Coogler’s up for Best Director, Michael B. Jordan and Wunmi Mosaku are in the running for acting honors, and, if industry chatter is any clue, this might be just the beginning.

But the Critics’ Choice have long resisted simple storylines. While “Sinners” soaks up much of the early limelight, Paul Thomas Anderson’s “One Battle After Another” muscles in with 14 nominations, challenging the notion that this year’s race has a clear favorite. Leonardo DiCaprio and Chase Infiniti find themselves locked in acting showdowns; the supporting cast—Benicio Del Toro, Sean Penn, Teyana Taylor—reads like a who’s who of chameleon talents. Blink and you'd miss a legend.

Of course, every ballot brings its curveballs. “Frankenstein” and “Hamnet” round out the high-wire acts with 11 nods apiece, their emotional fireworks standing shoulder-to-shoulder with more traditional prestige fare. The field this year is a patchwork—ranging from audacious high concepts to meticulously crafted character studies. Predicting the winners would take the guesswork of Vegas odds-makers.

The television categories, meanwhile, have their own gravity. “Adolescence” emerges as a limited-series frontrunner, with six key nominations—three actors in particular (Stephen Graham, Owen Cooper, Erin Doherty) nabbing slots for performances that split the difference between raw nostalgia and heart-wrenching authenticity. It’s proof, if any was needed, that coming-of-age isn’t just a genre, but a mood—one that pulls in audiences yearning for long-ago summers or high school heartbreak.

What doesn’t get enough credit in these recaps is the gallery of presenters, each bringing idiosyncrasies and charm to the proceedings. Indie darlings Ava DuVernay and Diego Luna may find themselves bumping elbows with Jeff Goldblum, whose knack for making small talk sound like existential philosophy could liven up even the dullest of trophy handoffs. And there’s Regina Hall, Quinta Brunson, Alicia Silverstone—each one an awards-season scene-stealer even before a word’s been spoken.

Some things don’t change: viewers wrestling with modern streaming logjams. E! and USA Network go live at 7pm Eastern (that’s 4pm for the West Coast gallery), or, for digital denizens, a quick trip to Peacock—the next-day streaming option—delivers the full show without commercials chewing up airtime. Sling TV subscribers have it easy, so long as they’re on the Blue package. Though, truly, anyone who’s tried to watch from a hotel in Paris, grappling with region locks, probably has a bookmarked VPN by now—NordVPN to the rescue, naturally.

Backstage, someone is undoubtedly calculating just how many trophies can feasibly be carried at once, given the lineup now spans 23 film awards and 21 for television. In a quietly bold move, this year’s show introduces categories for Best Casting and Ensemble, Best Variety Series, Best Sound, and Best Stunt Design. The expansion is a nod to the evolving DNA of visual storytelling—how the magic happens isn’t just about leads and scripts, but the kinesthetic ballet behind the scenes.

Odd as it may seem, a stray comment from Kim Kardashian (“[North] teaches me a lot. So she has a really unique style…”) almost fits the mood here. The Critics’ Choice don’t just reward what’s big and loud; they often spotlight the new, the singular, the offbeat—a genre twist, an underplayed role, a group performance that fizzes with chemistry. Unlike the safe, consensus picks that sometimes flatten awards shows into polite monotony, this ceremony seems attracted to the sparks that fly from risk-taking.

Of course, for the industry-minded, there’s another drama at play: momentum. Over the years, an early win at Critics’ Choice has turned into a self-fulfilling prophecy, with films from “Oppenheimer” to “Everything Everywhere All at Once” setting the tone for a clean sweep as the season rolls on. In 2025, the pressure feels even higher. Audience fatigue makes breakout moments matter more, and every acceptance speech is a shot to steer the narrative.

But, at the heart of it all, the awards themselves are a reminder that movies and television are communal bonds. They start conversations, trigger debates—Was DiCaprio robbed? Did “Adolescence” tap into something deeper or just indulge in nostalgia?—and create a flurry of memes before anyone’s even wiped off their makeup. The Critics’ Choice Awards aren’t just trophies for mantels; they’re mile markers in an ongoing conversation about what stories we want to tell, and who gets to tell them next.

When the lights go up and the red carpet is rolled away, it’s that sense—of collective dreaming, of passionate debate, of art that lives and breathes in the public square—that lingers long after. Trophies make headlines, sure. But it’s the stories that echo, lingering long past the closing credits.

There’s something unmistakable in the pulse of awards season—the kind of restless anticipation that feels a little like prom night if everyone in the room happened to be extremely famous and decked out in custom couture. Barker Hangar in Santa Monica—imagine the lovechild of an aircraft garage and a chandelier-filled ballroom—sets the stage for the 31st Critics’ Choice Awards, a night certain to deliver both breathless predictions and unexpected turns.Chelsea Handler slips backstage, sneakers barely making a sound on polished concrete. As the show’s host, she’s settling in for her fourth go-around, probably flipping cue cards and eyeing her punchlines about this year’s more avant-garde outfits. There’s a wryness to her presence that suits the air of the evening—equal parts glitz, nerves, and cheeky irreverence.This year, the Critics’ Choice ceremony preempts the Goldens, nudging its way to the front of the glory parade. It’s a bit like awarding class valedictorian before most of the tests are even graded, yet there’s method in this madness. After all, this show’s selections have a history of starting the domino run that ends in Oscar gold or Emmy glory. The night hums with that sense—every envelope just might tip the scales for what Hollywood’s next It Film or breakout TV darling will be.Leading the big-screen stampede this year is “Sinners,” Ryan Coogler’s dazzling reinvention of the vampire genre, biting into a jaw-dropping 17 nominations—an honor that stands toe-to-toe with “Barbie’s” 2023 record. It’s no mere genre flick, either; “Sinners” has critics debating artistry and social subtext with the kind of fervor normally reserved for deeply earnest period pieces. Coogler’s up for Best Director, Michael B. Jordan and Wunmi Mosaku are in the running for acting honors, and, if industry chatter is any clue, this might be just the beginning.But the Critics’ Choice have long resisted simple storylines. While “Sinners” soaks up much of the early limelight, Paul Thomas Anderson’s “One Battle After Another” muscles in with 14 nominations, challenging the notion that this year’s race has a clear favorite. Leonardo DiCaprio and Chase Infiniti find themselves locked in acting showdowns; the supporting cast—Benicio Del Toro, Sean Penn, Teyana Taylor—reads like a who’s who of chameleon talents. Blink and you'd miss a legend.Of course, every ballot brings its curveballs. “Frankenstein” and “Hamnet” round out the high-wire acts with 11 nods apiece, their emotional fireworks standing shoulder-to-shoulder with more traditional prestige fare. The field this year is a patchwork—ranging from audacious high concepts to meticulously crafted character studies. Predicting the winners would take the guesswork of Vegas odds-makers.The television categories, meanwhile, have their own gravity. “Adolescence” emerges as a limited-series frontrunner, with six key nominations—three actors in particular (Stephen Graham, Owen Cooper, Erin Doherty) nabbing slots for performances that split the difference between raw nostalgia and heart-wrenching authenticity. It’s proof, if any was needed, that coming-of-age isn’t just a genre, but a mood—one that pulls in audiences yearning for long-ago summers or high school heartbreak.What doesn’t get enough credit in these recaps is the gallery of presenters, each bringing idiosyncrasies and charm to the proceedings. Indie darlings Ava DuVernay and Diego Luna may find themselves bumping elbows with Jeff Goldblum, whose knack for making small talk sound like existential philosophy could liven up even the dullest of trophy handoffs. And there’s Regina Hall, Quinta Brunson, Alicia Silverstone—each one an awards-season scene-stealer even before a word’s been spoken.Some things don’t change: viewers wrestling with modern streaming logjams. E! and USA Network go live at 7pm Eastern (that’s 4pm for the West Coast gallery), or, for digital denizens, a quick trip to Peacock—the next-day streaming option—delivers the full show without commercials chewing up airtime. Sling TV subscribers have it easy, so long as they’re on the Blue package. Though, truly, anyone who’s tried to watch from a hotel in Paris, grappling with region locks, probably has a bookmarked VPN by now—NordVPN to the rescue, naturally.Backstage, someone is undoubtedly calculating just how many trophies can feasibly be carried at once, given the lineup now spans 23 film awards and 21 for television. In a quietly bold move, this year’s show introduces categories for Best Casting and Ensemble, Best Variety Series, Best Sound, and Best Stunt Design. The expansion is a nod to the evolving DNA of visual storytelling—how the magic happens isn’t just about leads and scripts, but the kinesthetic ballet behind the scenes.Odd as it may seem, a stray comment from Kim Kardashian (“[North] teaches me a lot. So she has a really unique style…”) almost fits the mood here. The Critics’ Choice don’t just reward what’s big and loud; they often spotlight the new, the singular, the offbeat—a genre twist, an underplayed role, a group performance that fizzes with chemistry. Unlike the safe, consensus picks that sometimes flatten awards shows into polite monotony, this ceremony seems attracted to the sparks that fly from risk-taking.Of course, for the industry-minded, there’s another drama at play: momentum. Over the years, an early win at Critics’ Choice has turned into a self-fulfilling prophecy, with films from “Oppenheimer” to “Everything Everywhere All at Once” setting the tone for a clean sweep as the season rolls on. In 2025, the pressure feels even higher. Audience fatigue makes breakout moments matter more, and every acceptance speech is a shot to steer the narrative.But, at the heart of it all, the awards themselves are a reminder that movies and television are communal bonds. They start conversations, trigger debates—Was DiCaprio robbed? Did “Adolescence” tap into something deeper or just indulge in nostalgia?—and create a flurry of memes before anyone’s even wiped off their makeup. The Critics’ Choice Awards aren’t just trophies for mantels; they’re mile markers in an ongoing conversation about what stories we want to tell, and who gets to tell them next.When the lights go up and the red carpet is rolled away, it’s that sense—of collective dreaming, of passionate debate, of art that lives and breathes in the public square—that lingers long after. Trophies make headlines, sure. But it’s the stories that echo, lingering long past the closing credits.