My first big award show was the Golden Globes the year I was nominated for Up in the Air. When you’re wearing a long dress, which I was for the first time, you want to go for height and comfort in your shoe choice. Style really doesn’t matter because no one is ever going to see them. But as this was my first Golden Globes, I wanted to wear this perfect pair of punishing, embellished skyscrapers. They were ridiculously painful, but they were a work of art. Because I knew I wouldn’t be able to endure an entire evening in them, my publicist put a pair of slightly less ridiculous shoes in her bag to hand off to me once I was done with the red carpet. After I walked the carpet and sat down in the ballroom, I ripped off the skyscrapers, but my feet were so swollen they wouldn’t even fit into the “easy” shoes. I sat through the entire program with my bare feet under the table, praying that by the time the show was over I’d be able to squeeze them into my footwear. If I’d won, I would have looked like a little girl in her mother’s dress, hobbling up onstage. But that was the year I met the voice of Dug, so the night was a win.
The first time I got to present was that same year at the SAG Awards. I was wearing a strapless purple gown and nervously fiddled with the bodice as I waited backstage. Eventually, Stanley Tucci, who was presenting with me, leaned in and said, “Stop adjusting your boobs, you look fine.”
The award went to Drew Barrymore for Grey Gardens, and she gave a flustered but obviously heartfelt speech. We escorted her offstage, and once we were in the wings, we turned to congratulate her. She walked steadily past us, leaned against a pillar, and closed her eyes. She was holding her award low by her waist and breathing slowly in and out. I thought, Something real is happening in front of me. This is a human, taking a moment for herself because everything else has been pageantry.
Stanley and I backed up a bit more. A woman wearing a headset crept near her with a desperate look on her face, but Drew Barrymore, movie star and recent SAG Award recipient, was not ready to turn herself back on. The woman in the headset finally squeaked, “Miss Barrymore, we’re just gonna take you back here to have some pictures—”
“Just give me a second.” She was perfectly calm and perfectly polite, but she was serious.
“Can I get you some water?” (It never fails.)
“Sure.”
The woman disappeared to get a glass of water. I suspect that this was more about buying time than being thirsty. Stanley and I stayed quiet and tiptoed past her. Just before she was out of view, I turned back to see her still standing there, eyes closed. I looked away quickly, because even observing her felt like an invasion. But it was sort of beautiful. She’d just been honored for a project she clearly cared about deeply and was resolved to experience that moment on her own terms.
The Oscars of a Parallel Universe
I had a very different experience presenting an award at the Oscars that year. At most award shows, you have the option to rehearse. At the Oscars, rehearsal is mandatory. It doesn’t matter if you’re Brad Pitt or screen legend Sidney Poitier, you come in the day before to walk the little path to your mark and say your intro into the microphone. It is “strongly recommended” that women rehearse in their heels.
I was paired with Zac Efron, and in my jeans and ridiculous shoes I asked him, “May I take your arm?” The rehearsal is filmed and treated as a full production so that the director, cameramen, and editors can root out any potential mishaps. There are hired standins scattered in the audience, sitting in the seats of all the nominees.