Last night was full of mixed emotions for me. Pride that my son should win an award. Well done Tom.
Bemusement to be in a room full of film luminaries who belong to an exclusive club that I have never managed to join myself despite repeated applications – and paraded before me were tooÂ many films that I have seen and haveÂ not undetstood their success.
But more personalÂ bemusement becauseÂ the venue wasÂ The Great Room at the Grosvenor HouseÂ – the very room where I have performed so many times over the years – doing the very gigs that have allowed me to afford to spendÂ so much time writing my films and my books. This isÂ the room where I entertained the Arsenal team at the PFA awards after they won the league and brought the bloody house I might add. And when Tom’s name was called out and he bounded to the stage to say thank you – he went on to to make a joke about the sponsor and he generatedÂ a large laugh from all gathered.
And at this I swelled with pride. Nevermind The Impossible and this acting mularkey. The kid is doing gags in the Great Room. Just like his old man then in so many ways – and unlike his old manÂ as well I add ruefully – as readers of my book or this blog will testify.
After the awards – a party was scehduled in the West End. Naturally, Tom was keen to attend and why not? Nikki and I though were more keen to get home. It’s an age thing. Party on a Sunday night? Plus it’sÂ having three other kids as well. It was a good idea of mine to drive after all. I’m just so sensible these days. Or old?
I expect Tom was the only winner last night who needed to be at school this morning. But still, who was I say the party was off limits? After all they had laid on a car for him.
“Dad – take this for me will you?”
It was his award.
Dad’s are useful for some things and this one is continually humbled but luckily still smiling…