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216: Redoing my Life, Golden Globes 2015
🕑 Added 2025-06-18 14:52:06 +0000 UTC“If we’ve learned one thing, it’s that famous people are above the law,” Ricky Gervais said onstage at the 2015 Golden Globes.
I was seated at a table with Leonardo DiCaprio, Alejandro Iñárritu, the rest of the Revenant cast… and, for some reason, John Krasinski.
Ricky was doing what Ricky always does when he hosts the Golden Globes—making every celebrity in the room laugh uncomfortably at jokes that probably hit a little too close to home. In my previous life I was pretty sure he hadn’t hosted this year, but—well—different universe, different outcomes.
I’d always loved his bits during awards season, yet now, sitting among those very celebrities, I suddenly worried he might single me out.
“I’m not going to say the terrible things you’ve done to get here,” Ricky said, pausing just long enough for the laughter to ripple through the room.
“Damn,” Krasinski muttered beside me.
“And who knows what Daniel Adler did,” Ricky continued, as casually as if he were commenting on the weather.
Oh, fuck, I thought, keeping a smile plastered on my face as I felt the camera find me. I knew they’d cut to me.
“I mean, he’s what—twenty-two? Twenty-three? Already a fucking billionaire,” Ricky went on, sounding halfway between admiration and accusation. A solid wave of laughter swept the crowd. Leo, sitting next to me, laid a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
“I’m not alleging anything,” Ricky added. “It’s just… a bit suspicious. Maybe he made a deal with the devil… or maybe I’m just jealous of his success.”
Another burst of laughter.
“Or maybe he’s just very, very talented.”
He paused. A few chuckles followed.
“No, no… Nah, it can’t be. I’m onto you, Adler.”
The room erupted again. He riffed for a bit longer, then the segment ended and the ceremony officially began in earnest.
“Well,” Leo said, “not as bad as three years ago.”
Tom Hardy, across the table, cracked, “Someone must’ve told him to tone it down.”
Leo nodded. “Still.”
“It’s a roast—that’s his thing,” I said.
Leo chuckled beside me. “That bit with Meryl was funny, though,” he said, setting off another wave of laughter around the table.
The ceremony rolled on, and soon one of the categories I was personally involved in came up: Best Animated Feature Film.
Salma Hayek and Kevin Hart walked onstage to present.
Kevin grinned, holding the envelope. “Alright, here we go. The nominees for Best Animated Feature are…”
Salma took over, her voice elegant and crisp:
“Inside Out.”
“The Incredibles.”
“Anomalisa.”
“The Good Dinosaur.”
“The Peanuts Movie.”
I glanced to my left at Chris Henderson, CEO of Stardust and the unofficial head of Stardust Animation, and at Leo Vance, the director of The Incredibles. Chris gave me a confident nod. He looked calm—he knew.
Salma opened the envelope and smiled.
“And the Golden Globe goes to… The Incredibles.”
Chris and Leo both shot to their feet, beaming. Before heading onstage, they stopped by my seat. Chris hugged me; Leo slapped my shoulder. Chris made a subtle hand motion inviting me to join them, but I shook my head, motioning for them to enjoy the spotlight.
They accepted the award and delivered a brief speech. The crowd applauded as they left the stage.
Two more categories passed, and then came a big one.
Bill Hader and Kristen Wiig stepped out to present Best Screenplay – Motion Picture. After a short, playful bit that had the room laughing, Kristen read the nominees:
“Aaron Sorkin – Steve Jobs”
“Emma Donoghue – Room”
“Tom McCarthy and Josh Singer – Spotlight”
“Daniel Adler – The Revenant”
“Quentin Tarantino – The Hateful Eight”
Bill opened the envelope with a dramatic pause.
“And the Golden Globe goes to… Daniel Adler – The Revenant.”
Our table erupted. Leo stood, clapping hard. I rose, smiling, while Chris crossed over to shake my hand.
As I walked to the stage, applause rippled through the room. I took the Globe, stood at the mic, and let the silence settle.
“Two years ago,” I began, “I read a 200-year-old story about a fur trapper… and I never imagined that would be the one to get me here.” Warm laughter followed.
“I want to thank Alejandro, Leonardo, the entire cast and crew, and everyone at Midas and Stardust…”
I kept it brief, left the stage, and the ceremony continued. The ballroom lights dimmed again as Harrison Ford took the stage to present Best Director.
After reading out the nominees, he opened the envelope and, without missing a beat, announced:
“And the Golden Globe goes to… Alejandro González Iñárritu – The Revenant.”
Our table rose again. Applause thundered as Alejandro stood, shook Leo’s hand, gave me a tight handshake, and strode to the stage with his usual quiet grace. He accepted the award humbly, thanking the cast, the crew, the wilderness itself—and, briefly, “my friend and the man who wrote this beautiful story, Daniel Adler.”
I smiled, genuinely.
A moment later I glanced behind us, casually scanning the room. That’s when I saw him.
Tom Cruise.
He wasn’t talking to anyone. He wasn’t clapping.
He was staring at me—dead still, as though he’d been doing it for a while, eyes locked on mine.
I blinked, caught his gaze, and offered a polite, puzzled smile. He smiled back.
But he didn’t look away.
“The fuck…” I muttered under my breath, facing forward again. Goosebumps—the weird kind—crawled up my arms.
I leaned toward Leo and whispered, “Is Tom Cruise nominated for something?”
Before Leo could answer, John Krasinski, who’d overheard, leaned in. “He produced one of the movies nominated.”
“Oh.” I nodded slowly, glancing back—yep. Still staring. Still smiling.
What does this crazy Scientology man want? I wondered, forcing myself not to look again.
I sat stiff for a few more moments, his gaze like a spotlight on my shoulder. Eventually, the lights dimmed again.
Best Actor in a Motion Picture – Drama.
Gwyneth Paltrow took the stage—stunning as always—and briskly read the nominees before announcing:
“And the Golden Globe goes to… Leonardo DiCaprio – The Revenant.”
The room exploded.
Leo stood, hugged Alejandro, hugged me, and made his way to the stage, glowing with confidence. Onstage he struck just the right balance of humility and pride, thanking the cast, the crew, the camera team, Alejandro—and then glancing down at our table.
“And thank you, Daniel Adler, for writing the story that tried to kill me every single day of shooting.”
Laughter. Applause.
I leaned back, relaxed. Our movie was sweeping the night.
Except for the guy still staring three tables back.
I didn’t turn around again.
And finally it was time for the biggest award of the night—Best Motion Picture – Drama.
The lights dimmed, and a hush fell over the crowd as Meryl Streep crossed the stage, envelope in hand and a faint smile playing on her lips.
“The nominees for Best Motion Picture – Drama are…” she began, her voice smooth and clear:
“The Revenant”
“Carol”
“Mad Max: Fury Road”
“Room”
“Spotlight”
Each title rolled off her tongue, each one met with polite applause. My heart beat a little faster—not from nerves, exactly, but from that hyper-aware feeling you get when time seems to slow just before something important happens.
Meryl opened the envelope with practiced poise, glanced up, and announced:
“And the Golden Globe goes to… The Revenant.”
Thunderous applause erupted.
Everyone at our table leapt to their feet—Alejandro, Leo, Hardy, even John Krasinski, who still looked mildly self-conscious about sitting with the winning film’s crew. He turned to me, grinning. “This is awkward.”
I hugged him and laughed. “Just roll with it.”
We headed for the stage. Alejandro led the way, and Chris Henderson joined us—Stardust was the film’s distributor, after all.
At the podium I tried to hand the trophy to Alejandro, but he pressed it back into my hands. I leaned in and whispered, “You give the speech.”
He smiled, nodded, and stepped to the microphone.
Alejandro delivered a thoughtful, gracious address: he thanked the cast—Leo, Hardy, Forrest—the crew, the location scouts, the cinematographer, the editors. Then he paused, looked at me, and said:
“And thank you, Daniel. This was your story. You trusted me to bring it to life. I’m grateful.”
The applause swelled, bigger than before.
And just like that, the Golden Globes were over.
======
As with any awards show, the winners were herded into a post-ceremony press room—brightly lit, microphones everywhere, a barrage of questions flying at us.
For me the focus wasn’t even The Revenant half the time. Instead it was, “What’s next, Daniel?” or “Are you really directing this year?” or “Is it true you’re attached to multiple projects?”
I answered what I could. Some questions got clear replies; the more speculative ones I left vague. Let the mystery float.
Eventually I drifted into one of the after-parties, packed wall to wall with actors, directors, writers, producers, agents—everyone.
The first person I bumped into was Jon Hamm. We caught up, finally meeting again after working together on 12 Angry Men.
Then I ran into Lady Gaga.
“Congratulations,” I said with a grin. “Getting into acting now?”
She smiled—warm but sly. “Why not? I was getting bored with just singing.”
“So… did the wedding couple like my performance?” she asked, referring to the night we’d surprised Cam and Mitchell at their wedding.
“Their friends are jealous—they definitely won the wedding wars in their group.”
She laughed, tossing her hair back. “One of them almost passed out.”
I nodded. Yes Cam had indeed almost passed out when he finally got to meet her.
We chatted until Chris pulled me aside to meet some people.
Later I found myself alone, scanning for an exit. Without Margot the party was getting dull, and I was ready to disappear quietly.
That’s when I heard it.
“Daniel!”
The voice was unmistakably Tom Cruise’s.
I turned. He was standing with Matt Damon.
Tom grinned and waved me over. “Matt, have you met Daniel?”
Damon nodded. “No—heard a lot about you. You’re really shaking up the place.”
Tom chimed in, brimming with energy: “He is… really… he’s a genius.”
I offered a polite smile. “So, what were you guys talking about?”
“Oh!” Damon said, suddenly lighting up. “Have you seen what Tom’s doing in the next Mission: Impossible movie?”
I knew exactly what Tom Cruise had done—and would do—in all his Mission: Impossible films.
“Rogue Nation, right? Something about… a plane? You hanging off it?” I asked.
Damon nodded, eyes wide. “Yeah, that one.”
Tom grinned like a kid. “Yeah, yeah… all right, let me explain—”
He was already fired up.
“I’ve been dreaming about doing this stunt for fifteen years,” he began. “Fifteen.”
I glanced at Damon; he raised an eyebrow.
“So I go to my safety guy,” Tom continued, “and I ask, ‘Can we do it? Can I actually hang off the side of a cargo plane as it takes off?’”
“And?” I prompted.
“He said no,” Tom replied, almost laughing.
Damon jumped in, mock-scolding: “Of course he said no! Tom, come on—hanging outside a plane while it takes off? That’s actually insane, even with a harness…”
Tom shrugged. “That’s what he said too.”
I raised my drink. “So… what happened?”
“I got a new guy.”
Damon burst out laughing, hands on his knees.
“You fired the safety guy?” I asked.
“Well,” Tom said, grinning wildly, “I replaced him. Let’s just say… with someone more open-minded.”
He launched into the details—the exact specs of the plane, how many takes it took, the wind speeds, the harness rig, the contact lenses glued to his eyes so he wouldn’t go blind during takeoff.
It was astonishing. Completely mental. But also, kind of great.
He really is crazy, I thought. But there was no denying it—crazy in the way that moves mountains.
When he finally wrapped up his monologue, he leaned in, almost conspiratorially.
“So, Daniel,” Tom said, suddenly shifting gears, “I’ve been thinking…”
Please don’t invite me into Scientology, I thought.
“Top Gun 2,” he said. “I want to do it. And I really liked your idea.”
Damon blinked. “Wait—what?”
I gave a slow nod, caught off guard; I had pitched the idea to Tom when we went to dinner after The Graham Norton Show.
“So you want to do it?”
“Yes… yes—but I can see you’re a busy man.”
“Yeah, it’s gonna be a while. I’ve got a lot of projects stacked up.”
Tom nodded as though he already knew. “Just name the time. One year? Two?”
I hesitated. “Two years.”
Tom’s grin turned almost maniacal. “Two it is. I’ll keep the calendar clear. You and me—we’re going to fly.”
He clapped both my shoulders—firmly, like I’d just been recruited for a Mission: Impossible assignment.
After a bit more talking, we went our separate ways. And with that, I was officially done for the night.
I slipped out of the party quietly, dodging a few lingering conversations—at least, that was the plan. But just as I reached the exit, I nearly walked straight into a familiar face.
Hershel Abelman.
“Hershel,” I said, genuinely surprised. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Only those who know who I am would,” he answered with a small smile. “And that’s very few.”
He gave me a pointed look. “Heading out already?”
I nodded.
“Well, congratulations,” he said warmly. “You deserved the win tonight. And”—he paused, a hint of mischief in his voice—“I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised come the Academy Awards.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I stayed quiet.
Hershel went on. “I’ve spoken to a few people—important people. We all agree with your view… about our rather rotund friend.”
“So,” I asked cautiously, “I have your support?”
He nodded. “After the Academy Awards, we’ll meet—all of us. Then we’ll discuss how to move forward… carefully.”
I studied his face. Nothing in his tone felt casual; it was deliberate, maybe even dangerous.
“I look forward to it,” I said, offering a careful smile.
He rested a hand lightly on my shoulder. “Just be careful, Daniel. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. That’s why you’ve come this far. But heads—well, they’re easy to lose if you stop watching the shadows.”
I smiled, though his words twisted something inside me. Trying to sound unfazed, I said, “Don’t worry, Hershel. Sometimes… it feels like I can see the future.”
He chuckled softly. “Let’s hope you’re seeing it right.”
I walked away still smiling on the outside, but inside?
It felt as if I’d just made a deal with the devil himself.
.
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Iam editing the next one....
Comments
Tyler Karp
Thank you for the chapter
Raven Blanchard
Omfg yes that man is going DOWN
Samuel Famakinwa
Tftc
