Tina Fey and Colin Farrell Stole the Globes

Written by Miranda Vidak

2/6/20094 min read

I love watching the Award Shows. I'm eager to see if anyone will break the norm, run away from what's expected, or use the biggest platform on earth to try to move the needle on the important issues in this world while risking being disliked for taking a stand for something. It's the litmus test of a sort for me, scanning these folks, seeing who says what the crowd wants to hear, and who's unapologetically him/herself.

This year’s Golden Globes had two highlights for me. Tina Fey telling her internet haters to fuck off and Colin Farrell sniffing really bad and saying: This is from the cold, not that other stuff It used to be.”

Tina. I’m in awe at how effortlessly, subtly but powerfully she digs at society. It’s a talent, taking on the important, polarizing matters without sounding angry. It’s a level of ego and psyche I strive to achieve. What surprised me the most about her telling the haters to fuck off (to suck it, to be exact), on national television, with all the celebrities in attendance listening to her words with familiarity—was the reaction of the general public afterward: I couldn’t believe she reads that shit written about her.

Reaction to these things is so often misplaced. People who haven’t dealt with fame feigning at someone as famous as Tina Fey would read what they say about her, but not dwell too deeply on why people say such vile things. It’s impossible to completely ignore what people say or write about you, and never get affected. On most days you don’t care about it, but sometimes when you’re already agitated, tired, and worn out, it gets to you. Sometimes stuff written about you finds you by accident.

How dare you have an opinion about an "opinion" random people have on you? You should stay silent and just take it; after all, being bullied online is a tiny price for all the fame, success, and recognition. In fact, because you have all that, it’s literally your job to take online hate, Tina. Preferably in silence.

Therefore, and more—it completed me to see Tina taking her haters public. Tell people. On national television. Let them know what’s happening. Take their hate out of anonymity. Say it on the Globes platform.

Colin Farell is the antithesis of this. If you read about his life in the press, you'd think he's the messiest of the messy, yet he carries it all with such effortless ease. In the middle of all the chaos that inevitably surrounds someone so beautiful and talented, he manages to handle his drama with a calm that's almost conspicuous. I’m jealous. I need this superpower.

Colin won for In Bruges.

I can’t begin to describe what that movie meant to me or how it made me feel. It might be one of the first movies that made me feel emotional because of its detailed simplicity. The John Lennon bit and the way it played into the narrative of the plot. The midget detail. The build-up and the connection — the idea, brilliant writing.

The best writing is always the simplest one, like Kerouac who constantly bangs on my head while I’m trying to write something but can’t quite find the words to describe the feeling: “One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple.”

Martin McDonagh found the simplest words, and yet they stab you in your heart. The banter between characters, playing off of each other; it was like watching a symphony.

Colin’s acting, rewarded tonight with the Golden Globe for Best Actor, is a true reflection of him personally. He’s beautiful, but almost unaware of it; nerdy, but hot; clear and concise, yet sometimes stumbling. Yet another symphony to watch.

I met Colin Farrell in 2004 when I got a call at about 11 pm to come put together an after-party for an after-party of a Saturday Night Live episode Colin hosted. Yes, he hosted an SNL, they had an SNL after-party, and then wanted to have an after-after-party at the club I worked at.

The manager called me late at night: “I’m tired, it’s late, and quite frankly, I can’t be arsed. Can you go down to the club and do an event?” I can’t, I’m off tonight and I have classes in the morning. “It’s for Colin Farrell. He needs to be greeted by someone and have the details run. Go there now, prep the place.”

Someone’s gotta.

He was handsome, funny, he talked so fast I could barely keep up, he was bantering with me all night and told me a young, superfamous actress that also came to the club decided she wanted to go to his hotel with him that night and you need to prevent that from happening Miranda.”

Me?

How?

Make sure she stays away from me.

The whole staff and I ran point all night trying to ensure she wasn’t in his booth, and if she managed to get there, make sure she wasn’t there long.

The entire night felt scripted, one of the wildest experiences etched in my memory. Colin was the type of person who seemed to have drama swirling around him—almost as if it followed him, or unraveled in his presence, yet not necessarily by his own doing.

Our In the Club episode made me watch In Bruges in a whole different light. His lines in the movie, the way he delivers them, the ease, or at least that’s how it looks on the outside—with which he does everything, how comfortable he is in his skin, and how he can come up to the Golden Globe stage to accept the Best Actor award while sniffing and add: “This is from the cold, not that other stuff It used to be”, get the applause, and go on his merry way with such ease of existing.

I can not wait to see where he continues to exist and what roles we’ll have the pleasure of seeing him create in the future. I’m excited.