On Saturday night I went to my first big movie première at the Odeon West End on London Village's Leicester Square to see The Woodsman. Outside, a crowd of people had gathered to watch Kevin Bacon and his wife Kyra Sedgwick step out of a limo and walk a few steps through some glass doors. They paused to plug their movie to a camera crew, not ten feet away from me as I fought my way through the crowd and walked in with my ticket.
Before the screening Bacon and co. were presented on stage. He said he was glad to be in London, a rare opportunity for him - which always means he doesn't want to be here. His blondie wife stood beside him, hands behind her halternecked back, and only spoke to say her dress was by a British designer. Like I care. But sadly, I know there will be many who were impressed. Then Bacon introduced a blinged up black guy, Damien Dash, whose fat hip-hop producer's cheque book had paid for the movie. Bacon schmoozed that he was wearing a suit designed by said same bling-merchant. Again, like I care. Again, some would have wowed.
Then the movie. Then the questions from a dumb-fuck suck-up sycophant-you-wanna-make-me-rant audience. "I just want to say, I thought your performances were all great...", "I'm from Philly ::Woo!:: and I'm so glad you shot the film there...". Fuck. Off.
I liked the film. I could care less for the event.