"Last I checked, it was Saturday," he says of today. Four days ago, Downey, fifty-nine, was nominated for an Academy Award for his role in Oppenheimer, and telling himself this is just a regular Saturday is his way of keeping life small. "It's so funny, too, because you either constantly remind yourself when things aren't going your way, or you're constantly reminded externally when things are going your way," he says, unwrapping a nugget of Nicorette. "Clearly, the latter is preferable." He smiles, the bright, boyish smile—rubbery lips and eyes like a sad clown's and not a care on God's green earth—that has broken your heart or made you laugh in a thousand scenes. |
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