A Smokin' Event
An endless downpour of rain didn’t put a damper on the annual
HFPA/
In Style party at Toronto's
Windsor Arms Hotel. It just meant that indie-movie darlings like
Alessandro Nivola found themselves accessorizing their outfits with golf umbrellas so that they could smoke without getting soaked on the outdoor patio.
James McAvoy and James
Photo by Anna-Lea Boeki
Meanwhile, it was a hot scene inside the party, what with all of the high-wattage guests arriving: Oscar nominees like Viggo Mortensen, Laura Linney, Joan Allen and Liam Neeson; cute young Hollywood stars like Scott Caan, Scott Speedman and Giovanni Ribisi; and daring directors such as John Waters and
Darren Aronofsky, whose epic love story
The Fountain I had just seen.
“I hope it made you feel something!" Darren said (no worries, it did). Surprisingly, the conversation then turned to
New York Fashion Week—the director's pal
Narciso Rodriguez designed the chic ensembles
Rachel Weisz wears in
The Fountain. I have to say, it’s rare that I meet an artsy-intellectual auteur who enjoys talking about high fashion, but Darren’s my man!
Unfortunately, Weisz's co-star Hugh Jackman couldn’t make it to Toronto. "He’s on tour as
the Boy from Oz, dancing around in hot pants for crowds of, like, 15,000 people in Australia," Aronofsky explained. Now
that sounds like a party!
http://partyhopper.instyle.com/2006/09/a_smokin_event_.html#moreWhat was the highlight of the bash? For me it was hanging out with “the hot newcomer,” as young actors are often dubbed in Hollywood:
James McAvoy, last seen in
The Chronicles of Narnia. A friend of mine who is a movie critic for a Toronto newspaper had said: “You must meet him! He’s the It Boy of the festival—he has three movies here.”
So I walked over to James, introduced myself and asked him what it’s like to be an It Boy. He laughed and, in between swigs from his bottle of beer, replied: “I don’t know, really. Myself, I’ve never liked people who were called It.” Good point, I acknowledged. "So how do you like Toronto?" I asked. “This is my first film festival ever. It’s been like...” His voice trailed off, and he made a hurricane motion by swirling his index finger.
I couldn’t agree more, so I congratulated him on his success. “I don’t know if I’ve had any success yet," he said, somewhat philosophically. “Buzz is just buzz. These days, you need to be able to deliver at the box office, right? Everybody’s, like, 'Show me the millions!'" But I just wanted to bum a *** (as they say in James's hometown of Glasgow, Scotland), and he kindly obliged. He’s my kind of It Boy, that’s for sure.
The party ended on a bizarre note, sometime between two and three in the morning, when über-manager
Jason Weinberg grabbed my arm and insisted that I write a feature about the Hermès bag that was tragically (albeit only temporarily) lost by his party-girl client Lindsay Lohan. "It was recovered by Scotland Yard!" Jason told me. (Somewhere, Sherlock Holmes is spinning in his grave.)
Well, I'm not sure this would work for an
In Style story—but hey, Jason, it sounds like the
makings of a hilarious screenplay:
Dude, Where's My Bag?
instyle.com