Awards and All

I was surprised last Thursday by the arrival of an invitation to the Actors Awards. Not that I should have been. I have been a practising actor for many years, and my ability was obviously so convincing that they had completely missed my presence in the profession.

Some times acting is like that. I remember the shock rippling through the audience when Leonard Nimoy appeared at Basingstoke in 'Oscar and the Peach', many people said 'where are his ears?'. His ears, of course, were located on the side of his head but the reference to his greatest role and his convincing portrayal of said character obviously made for comment. In the series, the name of which escapes me, he adorned himself with some plastic pointy ones, a fact which some people could not adjust to. "Who is doing all the science bits for Captain Shatner?" people would chime. So convinced were his fans that he was from the future some even went so far as to accost him for a make shift trial. I put a stop to that as soon as the so-called judge put on the black cap. And well I did! Executing an actor mid-run can really put a damper on a production.

So the awards are tonight, and it is strictly black tie. I have no idea whether I have won or not, but my mere invitation after many a solitary year does indicate some sort of recognition. What, though, could they be congratulating me on? My role as Murph, the sarcastic Irish navvy officer? Lord Felch in "Felch In Trouble"? The second face vommiting up Marmite in the commercial (for which, incidently, I am still arguing that throwing up is a special skill and thus deserves a little extra). I wasn't supposed to throw up, in fact, I was supposed to say 'yum' but I was so immersed in my charaterisation that I lost all sense of the narrative and did what the character - called 'man' would do. They broadcast it with Rodney Bewes in the end.

I have spent the days since my invite concentrating on writing my speech. Who to thank? Who to miss out? Who to credit when the obvious person to credit is the one holding the award (me). But I cannot talk about me all the time. I have selected a letter, chosen at random, from one of the hundreds I recieve. Let me run it past you.

Dear Mr McPhereson,


Saw you at the National many years ago and you really made your mark on me. There's a actor with panache, style. Not like those other actors you were with. They were in the shade compared to you. You were the most convincing, let me tell you that. 

When I am in the steel manufacturing business making steel, there is little or no opportunity for a working chap such as myself to indulge himself in culture and learning, and this is a calimony which really causes me and my working compatriots great consternation.


It should have been your name outside on the posters, not Briars, Hopkins, Irons and West. No, you should have been included. You are certainly one to watch and I hope you win an award. If you do feel free to read this letter out.


Yours,


Fred Smith.

Marvellous. Or this, from the Welsh Valleys


Dear Mr McPhereson Boy,


Oh, you did us proud you did boy. Your appearance in that drama I saw the other night was one highlight of theatrical avalonia I shall not forget in a hurry boy. I would be remiss if I didn't write and tell you how good you were, better than all the others put in a box and dumped out at sea (which can be arranged, I have friends in Merther).


When I am in the mining business mining, there is little or no opportunity for a working chap such as myself to indulge himself in culture and learning, and this is a calimony which really causes me and my working compatriots great consternation, I will tell you that, boy.

Good luck to you and if you ever down this way call in to my house and we shall have tea and Welsh rabbits.


Yours




Ivor Smith.

Charming, and one of hundreds I have received. I best get back to writing my speech. I shall let you know the full extent of my presentation when I am happy with it.