Post Ceremony

There is a considerable rumble going on at the moment. I use the word rumble in the same way  as the kids on the street ‘There’s a rumble’, ‘I been involved in a rumble’ and ‘oi you, you lookin’ for a rumble?’. The aforementioned rumble (though I did initially mishear and thought they said ‘ramble’, something I am not opposed to. The punch in the face was not something associated with traversing the countryside) is again to do with damn awards business.

Let me make one thing crystal clear; I do not act for awards. Many directors have commented on this, saying ‘Tarquin, you’re not going to win any awards for that’ and it’s a testament to their in industry perceptions that indeed no plaudits have been forthcoming. This award, which I will hereafter refer to as ‘The award’, is a milestone in a career. It signifies my place in the business. My work is recognised by my peers, my efforts are appreciated for the Herculian endeavours they demonstrate, finally I am recognised as the award winning McPhereson. And of course there’s a buffet.

An award is the last thing from an actors’ mind when acting. Imagine being in a part on a battlefield, your comrade – perhaps a childhood friend – is laying in front of you mortally wounded and you tend to him, knowing your words of comfort are but overheard by the grim reaper drawing ever closer. The last thing you want to think about is a sumptuous four course meal, with speeches and wine and a limosine home. No, you have to be in the moment. You have to be in that position. You have to be that death comforter.  It’s no good as Alfie moans ‘give my heart to my Dolly, tell her my last thought on this Earth was of her sweet face’, replying that you hope that limosine driver isn’t one of those eastern European fellows who seems to know no English and you don’t want to rely on a minicab to get you to the Savoy, as many of those in Saving Private Ryan seemed to.

I well remember Ben Kingsley, who, after being nominated for ‘Ghandi’, was amazed. A letter was received at the Oscars’ office, and I am sure Ben won’t mind if I quote a bit of it here.

Sirs,

I am stunned you have nominated me for Ghandi, which although was a good job from my humble point of view, didn’t warrant the notion of an award. All I did was shave my head, put on some glasses and dress in a bed sheet. Wander around for a bit. Get shot. That was it. We managed to spindle it out for a couple of hours but essentially it was a very easy piece of work and I feel I cannot accept the Oscar you have proposed I should win.

May I make the suggestion that you consider not I, although I am flattered, but my good friend Tarquin McPhereson who’s portrayal of Elmer The Badger in South Ketterings’ Amatuer Dramatic Associations’ production of Rodent Rebellion (the musical). His moving and deeply felt portrayal of Elmer had people in tears, myself included. He is a fine actor and this would surely be a great tribute to an unsung hero of our industry.

Yours sincerely,

Ben Kingsley.

Europe.

PS Don’t bother mentioning this matter to me as I consider it closed and I will pretend to not know what you are talking about, and being so good at acting, you will be convinced. So don’t. It’s definitely me, Ben Kingsley, writing this.