Amy Poehler Steals the Spotlight: Golden Globes Crown Podcast Queen

Olivia Bennett, 1/12/2026Amy Poehler steals the show at the 2025 Golden Globes, winning the inaugural Best Podcast award for "Good Hang." Her humorous acceptance speech highlights the evolving entertainment landscape, emphasizing the importance of storytelling in today's media, while marking a cultural shift toward recognizing podcasts as a legitimate art form.

Picture the scene: Amy Poehler—unflappable, irreverent, probably the sharpest wit in the room—breezes up to the microphone after snagging the first-ever award for her podcast, "Good Hang with Amy Poehler." The room reads equal parts curiosity and envy. Snoop Dogg hands her the globe—yes, Snoop, in a twist so perfectly surreal no scriptwriter could’ve topped it. He delivers his line with that patented wink: “Before podcasts, I was what y’all listened to in your cars. To you podcasters, y’all better hope I don’t get in that game.” The audacity and camp! Laughter spills across the tables, designer gowns and rented tuxedos shaking in solidarity. The industry may reinvent itself every other Wednesday, but charisma never goes out of style.

Poehler’s acceptance speech lands somewhere between master class in subtle shade and affectionate ribbing. “I’m big fans of all of you—except for NPR, just a bunch of celebs phoning it in, so try harder.” She shoots a glance so cutting one half expects the teleprompter to melt. Public radio trembles; the rest of the nominees—Dax Shepard, Alex Cooper, the men of “SmartLess,” Mel Robbins—do their best not to look like background extras at a Poehler roast.

Her show, "Good Hang," hasn’t been around long—certainly less than the undying morning drive-time darling that is “Up First.” Yet Poehler's managed to turn it into the chicest comedy salon this side of La La Land, gathering not just boldface names—Tina Fey, Rashida Jones, Michelle Obama, a drop-in from Olivia Colman, Dakota Johnson unbothered and charming—but also drawing out stories that somehow feel both mischievous and heartwarming. It rarely even sounds like an interview, more often a late-night tête-à-tête over martinis, candor tumbling out in waves.

Awards bodies tend to move at a glacial pace when it comes to new media—pause for a moment and recall how streaming television was once the brash upstart. Yet Helen Hoehne, the Globes’ president, wrapped the change in a velvet quote about “narratives and communities across generations” when the category launched. One has the sense that, underneath the diplomatic phrasing, a simple admission: the cultural winds have shifted. Podcasts have toppled more than a few gatekeepers, making the red carpet less about exclusive velvet ropes and more about who can capture the room—earbuds in or out.

It wasn't as if the old guard went gently. NPR's "Up First" looked profoundly out of place among the star-studded nominees, almost as if someone had accidentally seated the chaperone at the afterparty. Notably absent? Joe Rogan and the various political firebrands usually quick to court controversy, an omission that says more about current Hollywood appetites—keep the feast glitzy and the drama on this side of the screen, please.

There was a moment during Nikki Glaser’s opener where she spoofed Nicole Kidman’s now-mythic AMC ad—yes, the one that's become a meme for devotion to the cinematic experience. The crowd, primed by Glaser's poke at podcast advertising (Squarespace got their mention, naturally), seemed to collectively realize just how quickly entertainment’s foundations shift. "Podcasts, they're just what we have now," Glaser shrugged—dry as a martini, twice as smart.

Still, amid the self-aware snark and light jabs, Poehler landed on something heavier, even tender. “This is an attempt to try to make a very rough and unkind world filled with a little bit more love and laughter, laughing with people not at them.” In a ceremony engineered for maximum optics, her sincerity shimmered—an echo of what Hollywood, at its absolute best, claims to be about: elevating spirits, not just egos.

Stepping back, this year’s Globes offered up more than novelty. Recognizing podcasts felt less like capitulation to passing fads and more like an overdue acknowledgment that storytelling, in every evolving form, remains the heartbeat of entertainment. Fresh mediums beget fresh talent, but the old magic—warmth, cheek, camaraderie—refuses to fade. Perhaps, going forward, the red carpet will sound different, but the glamour and irreverence are anything but passé.

The irony? In the end, it took a podcast—beamed straight into millions of lives, unfiltered and unvarnished—to remind the room that what draws people to Hollywood isn’t just ballyhoo and spectacle. It’s the audacity to try something new, however noisy or unpolished, hoping laughter and a little humanity can break through the static. Is there anything more Hollywood than that?

The Golden Globes have always had a knack for spectacle, but no amount of Hollywood sheen prepared anyone for this: podcasts stepping onto that hallowed stage, finally invited to the grown-ups’ table. It's 2025, and those iconic gold statuettes now have an entirely new companion—the Best Podcast award, an audacious spark of modernity in a ballroom more accustomed to Oscar-winners than audio auteurs.Picture the scene: Amy Poehler—unflappable, irreverent, probably the sharpest wit in the room—breezes up to the microphone after snagging the first-ever award for her podcast, "Good Hang with Amy Poehler." The room reads equal parts curiosity and envy. Snoop Dogg hands her the globe—yes, Snoop, in a twist so perfectly surreal no scriptwriter could’ve topped it. He delivers his line with that patented wink: “Before podcasts, I was what y’all listened to in your cars. To you podcasters, y’all better hope I don’t get in that game.” The audacity and camp! Laughter spills across the tables, designer gowns and rented tuxedos shaking in solidarity. The industry may reinvent itself every other Wednesday, but charisma never goes out of style.Poehler’s acceptance speech lands somewhere between master class in subtle shade and affectionate ribbing. “I’m big fans of all of you—except for NPR, just a bunch of celebs phoning it in, so try harder.” She shoots a glance so cutting one half expects the teleprompter to melt. Public radio trembles; the rest of the nominees—Dax Shepard, Alex Cooper, the men of “SmartLess,” Mel Robbins—do their best not to look like background extras at a Poehler roast.Her show, "Good Hang," hasn’t been around long—certainly less than the undying morning drive-time darling that is “Up First.” Yet Poehler's managed to turn it into the chicest comedy salon this side of La La Land, gathering not just boldface names—Tina Fey, Rashida Jones, Michelle Obama, a drop-in from Olivia Colman, Dakota Johnson unbothered and charming—but also drawing out stories that somehow feel both mischievous and heartwarming. It rarely even sounds like an interview, more often a late-night tête-à-tête over martinis, candor tumbling out in waves.Awards bodies tend to move at a glacial pace when it comes to new media—pause for a moment and recall how streaming television was once the brash upstart. Yet Helen Hoehne, the Globes’ president, wrapped the change in a velvet quote about “narratives and communities across generations” when the category launched. One has the sense that, underneath the diplomatic phrasing, a simple admission: the cultural winds have shifted. Podcasts have toppled more than a few gatekeepers, making the red carpet less about exclusive velvet ropes and more about who can capture the room—earbuds in or out.It wasn't as if the old guard went gently. NPR's "Up First" looked profoundly out of place among the star-studded nominees, almost as if someone had accidentally seated the chaperone at the afterparty. Notably absent? Joe Rogan and the various political firebrands usually quick to court controversy, an omission that says more about current Hollywood appetites—keep the feast glitzy and the drama on this side of the screen, please.There was a moment during Nikki Glaser’s opener where she spoofed Nicole Kidman’s now-mythic AMC ad—yes, the one that's become a meme for devotion to the cinematic experience. The crowd, primed by Glaser's poke at podcast advertising (Squarespace got their mention, naturally), seemed to collectively realize just how quickly entertainment’s foundations shift. "Podcasts, they're just what we have now," Glaser shrugged—dry as a martini, twice as smart.Still, amid the self-aware snark and light jabs, Poehler landed on something heavier, even tender. “This is an attempt to try to make a very rough and unkind world filled with a little bit more love and laughter, laughing with people not at them.” In a ceremony engineered for maximum optics, her sincerity shimmered—an echo of what Hollywood, at its absolute best, claims to be about: elevating spirits, not just egos.Stepping back, this year’s Globes offered up more than novelty. Recognizing podcasts felt less like capitulation to passing fads and more like an overdue acknowledgment that storytelling, in every evolving form, remains the heartbeat of entertainment. Fresh mediums beget fresh talent, but the old magic—warmth, cheek, camaraderie—refuses to fade. Perhaps, going forward, the red carpet will sound different, but the glamour and irreverence are anything but passé.The irony? In the end, it took a podcast—beamed straight into millions of lives, unfiltered and unvarnished—to remind the room that what draws people to Hollywood isn’t just ballyhoo and spectacle. It’s the audacity to try something new, however noisy or unpolished, hoping laughter and a little humanity can break through the static. Is there anything more Hollywood than that?