A brush with greatnessFaye DunawayInterview

The day I fell at Faye Dunaway’s feet

Phill Langhorne

Jobbing actor Phill Langhorne remembers a closer than intended encounter with the diminutive star

As a jobbing actor I’ve had to do a myriad of “in between jobs” to pay the bills. Every clichéd job you can imagine an actor doing, I’ve done. In 2007 I was asked to work on the British Comedy Awards thanks to a friend of mine who was producing the show.

After arriving, ready for an evening of pointing people in the direction of the toilets, I was ushered away to see my friend, who asked if I’d like to present an award.

“Yes!” I thought. “That episode of Hotel Babylon I did must have really made an impression.”

Sadly, it turned out that artist Mark Wallinger, who had collected the Turner Prize that year as a bear, had declined an invitation to present at these awards, meaning that some poor idiot had to dress up as a bear in his place – that poor idiot being me.

So we rehearsed. Me and Fern Britton walking on stage and greeting host Jonathan Ross. The award we were presenting was early on in the evening so I happily resigned myself to the fact that I’d be in the green room bar by at least 8pm.

My paw became entangled in some wires and I went flying in the direction of Faye Dunaway

But alas that wasn’t to be: Jonathan had other ideas. Giving the moment a Shakespearian twist, he wanted me to chase him and the final presenter off the stage. Exit pursued by bear and all that.

This is when I discovered that the final presenter was to be Faye Dunaway – a woman whose face I see on a daily basis because of the two huge framed posters of both Chinatown and Bonnie and Clyde I have hanging in my home. She was Hollywood royalty to me and I was nervous. I was also dressed as a bear, which was not how I envisioned us meeting.

We rehearsed the final exit of the night and up I ran towards the stage and Jonathan and Faye. Unfortunately the bear’s head was ill-fitting and I had trouble – especially at speed – seeing out of the eye holes. As I arrived on the stage my left paw became entangled in some loose cables which sent me flying in the direction of Ms Dunaway, narrowly missing the diminutive actor.

As I landed on the floor my head came off exposing my embarrassed face to everyone. It was then I heard the words: “You OK, hon?”

I turned to see Faye smiling down at me – not offering to help me up, admittedly, but smiling and looking concerned all the same. This made the whole incident a lot easier.

Later, the evening went off with no problems and thankfully there were no repeats of the rehearsal.

As I was leaving the stage, a well-known actor saw me, bear head under my arm and asked with a smile: “Three years at drama school?” I sighed and nodded: “Yes, three years at drama school.”

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