It is five years in the future. Instead of having awards shows, once a year the world’s most courageous actors are brought to the White House and given medals for their bravery. President Michelle Obama presides over this year’s ceremony.
“For portraying an overt racist while not being an overt racist in his everyday personal life, the Congressional Medal of Honor.”
“For gaining five pounds for a role, female, the Purple Heart.”
“For losing forty-eight pounds for a role, male, four Purple Hearts.”
“For being willing to appear onscreen looking like a middle-aged woman, the Medal of Merit.”
“For portraying someone who is poor, the Medal of Valor.”
“Thank you,” the actress murmurs gracefully, eyes downcast. The President stops. “Your performance was so brave,” she says. “So brave and so honest.”
A whisper ripples through the crowd. Honesty is almost as good as bravery. An honest performance is good. A brave performance is better. An honest and a brave performance comes along but once in a generation.
“So honest and so brave,” the President continues. “Where did you find the strength?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” the actress says modestly. “Here and there, I suppose.”
“It was tremendous,” the President says, “how you pretended to be someone who wasn’t you, while still secretly being you the whole time.”
“That’s my job,” the actress says. “My secret was, I imagined what it would be like to be poor, and then I acted that way,” and the President moves down the line.
“For playing a singer who is now dead, the Congressional Silver Medal.”
“For pretending to die onscreen, the Congressional Gold Medal.”
The President stops again. “Normally you’re very good-looking,” she says to the actor in front of her. “But in this particular role, you did something weird with your face.”
“That’s right,” he says, smiling good-lookingly.
“For doing something weird to your face,” she says, eyes brimming with tears, “I award you the FBI Shield of Bravery.”
“For doing a great deal of drugs in the past, but no longer doing drugs now and instead appearing in popular, edgy comedies, the National Medal of Technology and Innovation.”
Everyone applauds, everyone in the whole world, even you.
Tags: acting, awards shows, bravery, medals
Of course, because the last one is my future husband Robert Downey Junior.
What makes you think he’s divorcing me to take up with you? Um, he wouldn’t do that? Because of his deep and abiding love for me? And how I make his world complete?
Dream your little dreams, icebergmama. Dream your little dreams.
Very brave is playing a gay person when you – YOU – are straight. That is astonishingly brave. Because – and ordinary unbrave people may not understand – because you are playing someone who is gay and you are straight. So brave. So very brave.
Gay actor playing a straight actor, on the other hand? What the fuck do you want, a cookie? Get back to work.
That’s not BRAVE, you see, because instead of playing GAAAAAY you are playing STRAIGHT.
I believe you mean that they are playing NORMAL.
I’ll take it in exchange for President Michelle Obama!
As if Michelle Obama would ever give anyone an award for gaining 5 lbs.
For shaving her head, female, the Medal of Honor, for a personal act of valor above and beyond the call of duty (and for looking all military in the process).
That's not BRAVE, you see, because instead of playing GAAAAAY you are playing STRAIGHT.
You totally wrote this because of the Cherry Jones interview in the NYT. Oh, she’s so brave for looking like she had a double chin, but didn’t actually have a double chin.
God, I love her.
Mallory you are a god/goddess, whichever you prefer
I can’t believe that I’m the first person to say this, but: I got you some beer and some frozen peas.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_AXFlPR9inY
I can't believe that I'm the first person to say this, but: I got you some beer and some frozen peas.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_AXFlPR9inY