Jodie Jodie Jodie. I love Jodie Foster. I always have, always will. From the moment I saw her in Stealing Home, and the twenty or so times I've watched it since, I knew she was like me. I have always known (or, hoped or suspected, rather) that she was gay. In 1991, I dyed my hair to match Clarice Starling's reddish brown locks, perfected the southern twang, wondered if this meant I could really and truly do anything I wanted to in life. If she could do it, I certainly could.
My gaydar, along with trusty gay sensors on million of other fans all over the world, have always set off the rainbow buzzer. Was it the way she dragged that period frock of hers around in Sommersby? The lingering glances between her and Kelly Mcgillis during her Accused days, or the way that I saw right through to the gay-in-her tay-tay in the wind? Gay, straight, it had nor has any bearing on her acting chops or her believability as an actress. I think you're with me when I say "we knew and we don't care."
Yet her speech at the Globes last night left me wondering just what in the bloody hell was in that bad batch of pâté she was eating at table 114? This was like a Sarah Palin gone rogue moment, spurred on by too much moet and 2 slices of bitter pie. Even Mel Gibson looked slack jawed and vacant in the eyes. Sure, not everyone has had some whack job attempt to assisinate President Reagan in a sick attempt to get you to notice him. That would make anyone long for the life of a recluse. I'll give you that one, Jodie. But the coming out tease (will she, won't she) was just in poor taste, as was the privacy tirade. There's a time and a place and it wasn't well chosen. We get it. You're a reluctant star. You feel badly for Kristen Stewart, we read the op-ed, and you identify with her exploited, tortured soul. You resent the attention and the shinging bright light that has been cast upon you, demanding that you reveal more of yourself. Wave that gay flag, Jodie! Wave it proud! Wait a minute. Is she going to wave it ... seriously, she looks like she's about to wave it. Oh god, the Publicist is going to lose it. Are those freedom rings in her left hand? No. Wait for it ... Wait for it ... I think I see rainbow stripes peeking out from under the podium .... here it comes .... here it comes! ... And no. She hates flags and her monther is dying of dementia. I'm depressed.
As far as award show acceptance speeches go, on a scale of 1 - 10. 1 being classless and tacky and 10 being anything that comes out of Judi Dench's mouth, I give her speech a 5. It was equal parts honest and confusing. Equally as off course as it was direct. Did I drink too much Moet? This is the speech you didn't hear last night. And maybe someday, it's the one we will hear. She has some Oscar gold left in her yet. That is, if she isn't done with acting entirely.
Jodie's Speech: Take Deux.
Thank you, Robert. Thank you so much. (crowd starting to settle)
This is such an incredible honor. (applause dying out now) I want to sincerely thank the Hollywood Foreign Press Association for this award. When I first heard that I was going to be this year’s recipient, I thought about what a fearless pioneer Cecil B DeMille was. And to be thought worthy of this achievement, I am truly humbled to be standing here tonight with all of you. Looking back at some of those clips, I’m reminded not only of the power of cosmetic dentistry (laughter) but at how many lifelong friends, trusted colleagues and mentors I’ve worked with over the last 47 years. In 1975, Robert DeNiro taught me about method acting – over lunch, at a deli on 43rd street, while showing me how to light a cigarette properly. He taught me that acting wasn’t just about “being natural, being yourself” as I had been taught up to that point. I learned that I could bring depth, intrigue, mystery and interest to the character I was portraying, and I never forgot the lesson. I want to thank you for that. I also want to thank Marty Scorsese, my friend; you’re an incredible human being, and one of the most genuine, gifted directors I’ve ever worked with. I would do it all over again in a heartbeat if you ask me to. Tony Hopkins, Jonathan Demme, thank you for your kind and generous spirit.
To all the other actors, directors, producers, crews I’ve had the pleasure of working with all these years, thank you for helping me to enhance my craft, to bring my best to every role, and to challenge myself in ways that I didn’t know possible. To my children, who are here with me tonight, there is no role that brings me greater joy than being your mother. I love you with every fragment of my soul. To my own tireless crew, my publicist, my manager of 30+ years, everyone at table 222, you know I would not be here without you. I am forever grateful.
Cecil B DeMille, aside from being a superb actor, was also a master of silent film direction. I wanted to take a minute to talk about the art of silence. We live in a world today, which comes as no surprise to many of you, where our every move is documented. Where our love lives and loves lost are tabloid fodder, our failures, our fashion faux pas, more so than our greatest achievements, fuel a seemingly insatiable craving of the masses. I know that I cannot change this and I don’t set out to. I unfortunately I know all too well that there are some people who are willing to go to any length to get your attention. Despite the odds, I have always strived to live a very private life, to keep what’s most important to me close to my chest. To fight and claw to protect what is sacred and cherish that there are some aspects of your life that no one is entitled a window into. This silence is not to be mistaken for shame or for hiding. I have always been proud of who I am. Yet if by my declaring to a global television audience of millions that I’ve been out of the closet as a proud lesbian woman for more than 25 years helps a young girl or boy struggling with their identity, then this is my true lifetime achievement reward.
On that note, thank you Cydney Bernard, for being my brave co-parent, ex-partner in love yet my true, lifelong friend. To my mom who may not have understood much of this tonight, I love you, I love you, I love you. You are a wonderful mother, and I hope you know this and trust this and take this love with you when you are finally ready to let go.