Gabriel Byrne Wins "Best Actor" Award: Be Careful What You Wish For

It’s happened. It has finally happened.

Suddenly our wishes are all coming to fruition. "In Treatment" has not only begun filming, but HBO has announced that Season 2 will begin airing this coming April. We have a date, we have promos showing up on television, we have photographs of the one-year-older and several-pounds-slimmer MadHandsomeOne looking deep and reflective and beautiful, always looking beautiful. And fresh on the heels of that news, our boy is nominated, once again, for best actor in a drama series, this time, it’s the Golden Globes.

So, once again, on the night of the awards, we who worship him, gather together on the phones, we ‘instant message”, we post rapid-fire, we type out asynchronous play-by-play commentary while we search frantically for a glimpse of our hero. Each of us are hoping to spot his ghostly-pale, half-shaven, gloriously creased face, his notoriously rumpled silhouette, striding ever-reluctantly past the throngs of screaming fans.

As the evening progresses, our vigil begins to grow more desperate. We search the crowd frantically, ticking off the names of co-stars as the camera pans past their faces, our alarm growing stronger as we find everyone but him. Eventually, his category is presented, the nominee’s are singled out, their images are beamed across 5 continents and our fears are confirmed; no sad-yet-haunting blue eyes, no tapered fingers stroking plump and pursed lips, no bent and beautiful nose, no nothing. But as the envelope is opened, and the presenter’s words hang in the air, you could hear our collective intake of breath, let it be this time...let it be this time... let him win, let him win, let him win!

And he does! And he does! And he does!

And he’s….not….there. We are left with the dueling emotions of soaring elation and bitter disappointment. Finally, the world sees him like we see him, and now, we can’t even see him. Damn.

But we move onward and upward, we look forward to the accolades that will surely come with this award. We hope it brings him all the recognition he so richly deserves, better roles, more money, more riches, more fame. We hope Season 2 of "In Treatment" is ushered in with more promotion and more fanfare, we hope he garners a larger fan base and becomes the superstar that we all know he can be.

Or do we? Even as I wish all the best for him, I wonder if he can maintain his relative anonymity if he gets too famous. I know he nibbled at the edges of the “A” List a decade ago when he starred in several blockbuster movies. But he has spent the last few years appearing in independent films and starring on Broadway, two activities that leave him fairly accessible to his fans. I for one, will be greatly disappointed if he becomes too recognizable to participate in his charitable events, star in an Off-Broadway play or have a short conversation with a girl who’s flown halfway across the country just to hear him sing, off-key.

There is no denying this wonderful man's talent, or his achievements, but I have to say that I think we have helped to raise his profile just a tiny bit with our adoration and our viral marketing, our slightly crazed, internet sphere of forums and blogs and Byrne-based websites . We have praised his show, his beauty, his deeds and his abilities and finally, finally, finally, the world is praising him too. I hope we arent left wishing for the good old days. I dont want him chased by a thousand screaming women down the streets of Brooklyn. I guess we must always be careful what we wish for.

Nevertheless, it is with most heartfelt sincerity that I say, congratulations Gabriel, on your Golden Globe award. I hope there are many more awards in store for you and I also hope, selfishly, that you will remain the down-to-earth, shy, unassuming, kind, accessible man that we have come to know and love.

My Thoughts on Gabriel Byrne's "Stories From Home"

As I approach the end of this unbelievable year, I realize with some certainty and a bit of nostalgic sadness, that while I will always love Gabriel Byrne, I am not the giddy fan I was last spring. My desire for him no longer soars to Himalayan altitudes nor does the certainty of living without him plunge me hopelessy downward. This does not mean he is forgotten, far from it. He is the picture in my head, tucked away in a place of easy access. Like a mental Blarney Stone, I touch him for good luck or conjure his image whever I feel the urge. But I have worn this adoration down from jagged, unmanageable peaks to smooth and rounded hills. When I think of Gabriel Byrne now, I am Tuscany. I am sunny and green and undulating.

But there are still times when he can surprise me, he sneaks past the castle guards and comes crashing through my mental wall, leaving a big clumsy Gabriel-Byrne-shaped hole where a smooth white surface used to be. There are still times when he floats like a ghost into my field of vision, head tilted, smile tilted, eyes like those cartoon poker-playing dogs, big and sad and heart wrenching. I can set him aside most days, but he will always haunt me just a bit, there will always be moments where I can get distracted and get lost meandering in thoughts of his secret, inexplicable appeal.

After watching "Stories from Home", I feel sure I am having one of those moments right now.

This movie has answered so many questions, not just about Gabriel Byrne, but about me as well. I do not mean this in an arrogant way. I do not mean to imply that I have the talent, the intelligence or the physical beauty of Mr. Byrne, but I see so many similarities between this man and myself and I bet I am not the only fan to harbor thoughts like this. A long time ago, I said that I thought we were so attracted to him because we all wanted to be him, wanted to be beautiful and talented and special just like him. But now I think I may have been wrong. I suspect that many of us love him because we are like him already. We have always felt that somewhere underneath all that beauty, intelligence and talent, there lived a sad, mistreated, self-destructive, soul; a soul that lacked self-confidence, that felt like a failure in personal relationships, that tried to navigate the murky waters of depression by reaching again and again for a bottle. Like moths to a flame, we can't stop trying to get closer to it, we recognize it because we live it and when we see it wrapped in such a beautiful, perfect package, it makes us all feel better about ourselves. It validates our own shortcomings to see one so perfect being so damn imperfect. We ache to gather him in our arms and keep the bad things away from him because we know it is what we want most in the world for ourselves. Our empathy is real and it is visceral. We feel his pain and confusion firsthand and when our heart breaks for him, it is breaking for our own selves as well. He is a stranger to us, as we are to him, yet some of us secretly believe his is our reflection, our twin, and in another life, perhaps he could have been our best friend and soul mate.

I can see that this melancholy angel has done it to me again. He has sucked me back under his spell with this brilliant documentary of his life. Strangely, by exposing his mistakes and admitting his cowardice, he has demonstrated his extreme bravery. I'll probably watch this movie many times before I can successfully put it aside. In the meantime, I have to get busy patching. I have a big hole in my wall that desperately needs repair.