The Hollywood Reporter: Risky Business

Inside Vanity Fair's Oscar Party

[Borys Kit] If the Governor’s Ball is the high school prom of the evening, then the Vanity Fair party, hosted by the magazine’s Graydon Carter at Morton’s, is the party where all the cool kids of the film, music, fashion worlds cut loose and hang out. And hug it out, if Sunday night was any indication.

Best Picture Oscar-clutching Graham King, who said he had no intention of letting go of his statuette, was hugged by Mark Wahlberg as soon as he entered the restaurant. Moments later, Fox co-chairman Jim Gianopulos threw his hands around King. Also near the entrance, Elton John squeezed Jamie Foxx, then cupped his face and said “I love you.”

Deep inside the party, near the bar and In N Out stand, “Little Miss Sunshine” directors Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris were embraced by “The Number 23” producer Beau Flynn. As opposed to the usual mob scene, Peter O’Toole was given wide berth by the raucous crowd to sit peacefully, accepting hearty hellos from friends like John Lassetter, who cast the vet actor’s voice in this summer’s “Ratatouille.”

Ari Sandel, who won the Oscar for best live action short, enjoyed his time in the sun, as did his statuette, which was smooched by Sean “Puffy” Combs, and then manhandled by Alan Cumming. Sherry Lansing left her little guy in her car, though regretted not bringing it in. “My husband told me someone would have held it for me,” said Lansing, who is happy in her new life fundraising for stem cell research. “Everything has a season,” she said.

Among the countless bold-faced throng, Oscar-wielding Forest Whitaker sliced through the heavy crowd like butter, Kid Rock huddled with Dennis Hopper and Chris McGurk not far from Nataie Maines and husband Adrian Pasdar, Clive Owen shook hands with Ryan Goseling, Jerry Bruckheimer hung out with pal Michael Bay, Liv Tyler bent down to say a few words to Gwen Stefani and Rashida Jones, Jon Bon Jovi and Tommy Hilfiger surveyed the crowd from a corner. Other people caught making the scene included Tom Cruise, Madonna, Anderson Cooper, Tobey Maguire, artist David Hockney, Paul Allen, Diane von Furstenberg, Carolyn Murphy, Scott Stuber, Mary Parent, and Petra Nemcova.

Three Studios Merge Party Lists

Picturehouse (Pan's Labyrinth), Universal (Children of Men) and Paramount Vantage (Babel) threw a joint party Wednesday night at Simon's at The Sofitel to celebrate their three Oscar contenders Guillermo Del Toro, Alfonso Cuaron and Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu. It was the most fun I've had in ages. Great piles of sushi and seafood. Circulating platters of red and white wine. Mariaches. Cool directors. I introduced genial Happy Feet director George Miller (who is plotting another animated film) to DGA winner Walter Hill (Broken Trail), who is plotting a western series for AMC. Ian McShane admitted that he was as bored as he looked at the SAG Awards, and told us he's trodding the boards on Broadway in Howard Pinter's The Homecoming. That should keep him amused.

Gonzalez Inarritu regaled us with stories of his early days in 80s radio, when he got to do whatever he wanted for three hours a day. That explains a good deal. He has a great supple voice and tells colorful stories really well. Then he did interstitials for TV, like MTV spots. That explains how inventive and playful he is. He and Del Toro made a brief speech, explaining that Cuaron and his family were stuck in London with the flu. It was unusual to see three guest lists mingling—and it was great. Universal's Marc Shmuger talked to Vantage's John Lesher. Del Toro is multi-tasking as usual, writing one script while he promotes Pan's Labyrinth and preps the next Hellboy installment.

HBO honcho Chris Albrecht admitted that they've torn down the costly Italian sets for Rome, so this season is it. The series has done about as well as Deadwood. Hmmm. I love Rome, even when it goes wildly over the top.

Babel producers Steve Golin and John Kilik are in giddy moods; Kilik is back from Paris where Julian Schnabel has directed his first film in 8 years, since Before Nightfall, Scaphandre et le Papillon (The Diving Bell and the Butterfly) in French. It's the story of Elle France editor Jean-Dominique Bauby, who, after suffering a paralytic stroke, used his left eye to blink out his memoir. They hope to present the movie, if the Gods are willing, in Cannes.

As I waited for my Honda, Curtis Hanson and Rebecca Yeldham took off in a splendidly over-sized vintage white car with massive fins.
[Photo by Jeffrey Wells]

Globes Party Wrap

Sundance beckons. Here's the last of the Globes party trawl: Marc Malkin is here, my own foggy recollects are below:

After Babel won the Big Prize, THR editor Cynthia Littleton and I headed to the Weinstein Co. party first, passing recently departed Paramount president Gail Berman in the hotel lobby; Jamie Foxx was doing TV interviews on the chilly red carpet ramp between the hotel and Trader Vic's. (My favorite Globes memory from some years back is of Jodie Foster and date Russell Crowe slow-dancing on the Trader Vic's dance floor. They acted quite smitten that one night.) It was bitter cold, so most people were not hanging in the courtyard with heatlamps but inside the tent, where DJ Michelle Pesce was spinning discs, or at the banquettes inside the dark restaurant. Mike Medavoy and Bob and Harvey Weinstein arrived, eventually followed by the Bobby contingent, led by Emilio Estevez and Sharon Stone, and the Grind House gang led by Robert Rodriguez and Rosario Dawson, my sources later told me, but we had to move on.

We took the elevator up to the 8th floor to the Fox party, where Cynthia buttonholed Master of the Universe Rupert Murdoch and I spoke to his wife Wendy, who was tall and slim and wearing an unbelievably ornate emerald and diamond necklace and earring set. She was enthusiastic about reading blogs. Nice of her to say. Closer to the bar, Kimmel Co.'s Bill Horberg talked about shooting Marc Forster's film adaptation of The Kite Runner in a remote area of China, close to Afghanistan. It was rough. "I won't be going back there again," he said simply.

Thank You for Smoking writer-director Jason Reitman is already onto his next project for Fox Searchlight, Juno, written this time by Diablo Cody. (Unplanned pregnancies seem to be a trend: writer-director Judd Apatow's Knocked Up is due June 1 from Universal, starring Seth Rogen and Katherine Heigl in "a comedy about a one-night stand that delivered.") Studio co-chairman Tom Rothman insists that his studio will continue to spend big money on the right big pictures (like Jim Cameron's upcoming Avatar), small money on the right small pictures (like Devil Wears Prada or Borat), looking hard at costs on each individual movie—no rigid formulas, no trend-watching, just careful examination of each special case. It's working so far, as the LAT's Patrick Goldstein has elaborated here.

Back in the lobby, we ran into SPC's Michael Barker and Tom Bernard with Lives of Others director Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck, who towers over any crowd, on the way out of the Warner-In-Style party, which we decided to skip because the lines were too long. So Cynthia and I hawled our tired butts through the cold night over to the old Robinson's May for the Paramount/DreamWorks party, where spirits were soaring, natch. Bill Condon, Steven Spielberg, Sacha Baron Cohen, Jon Kilik, Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu, Steve Golin, Laurence Mark and Paramount's Brad Grey, Rob Moore, John Lesher, Janet Hill, Nancy Kirkpatrick, Gerry Rich et al celebrated as the Supremes played on.

The high point of the Paramount party for me: my longest conversation yet with Cannes festival topper Thierry Fremaux--way out of context-- who admitted that the festival struggles to see all the films they should to make the best possible selection.

2929 honcho Todd Wagner told us that unlike Bubble, the new Steven Soderbergh slated to shoot at the end of the year for 2008 release will have stars in it this time. Smart move. It makes it easier to actually market. Until a day and date movie actually pulls people in, all the talk is still hot air.

One cool gaggle at Paramount included statuesque new media mogul Arianna Huffington—"it's all about linking," she chanted, like a mantra—producer Lawrence Bender and Netflix content officer Ted Sarandos. (We commiserated about going to Sundance this week; it's below zero up there.) Stacey Snider and her new DreamWorks producer Nina Jacobson joined the group leaving for the hot party of the night, the one the press doesn't go to: CAA.

UPDATE: This Carrie Rickey commentary about the ballsy Globes is delicious.

Sacha Baron Cohen Celebrates Borat Globe Nominaton

[posted by Tatiana Siegel] How irresistible is Borat star Sacha Baron Cohen? Everyone from studio heads to A-list directors were falling over themselves to congratulate Baron Cohen on his Golden Globe nomination at Richard Zanuck's fete held at L.A.'s Jar Restaurant. Zanuck is producing director Tim Burton's upcoming R-rated sanguine musical Sweeney Todd, which stars Johnny Depp as the Demon Barber of Fleet Street, Burton squeeze Helena Bonham Carter as pie-maker Mrs. Lovett, and Baron Cohen, who will be rapping his role as rival barber Senor Adolfo Pirelli, says Zanuck.

While Warners' production head Jeff Robinov was busy fawning over Cohen (an impressive feat given their height difference), Team Borat was busy targeting Academy voters in attendance, particularly the geriatric ones who might not understand the charms of the Kazakhstani journalist. Nevertheless, with Jon Favreau, Shawn Levy, Jim Gianopulos and Tom Rothman in attendance, Baron Cohen is probably now booked through 2008.

Fox isn't doing Baron Cohen's next, Bruno, though, because the studio balked at the movie's hefty $42.5-million pricetag because, they say (not for quote of course) Baron Cohen's swishy gay alter-ego will prove less accessible and funny than Borat. Universal is doing the honors.

UPDATE: Here's Baron Cohen's on-air chat with Fresh Air's Terry Gross on NPR.

Rules of Schmoozing Talent

I was amused by The Carpetbagger's admission that he actually hung out at an Oscar season party with a "major writer-director" (hmmmm....Todd Field? Bill Condon? Ed Zwick?) and then had the guts to tell the poor soul that he didn't like his latest project. Yikes.

The charm of NYT media columnist David Carr's Oscar-season blog is 1) he writes stylishly, with self-deprecating humor and 2) he milks the fact that he's not a veteran film beat reporter. That newbie aspect works for him, although I've noticed that Carr has been working harder this year, adding a red carpet assistant, The Baguette, to his labors, presumably because there is more competition. It's tough.

And yes, David, you do not tell Hollywood talent, no matter how accessible and charming they may be, that you don't like their work. They are praised to the skies, constantly. Told they are geniuses. They aren't used to hearing criticism from anybody. They can't take it. Besides, critics do their writing in the dark, without expecting to socialize. That's one of the reasons why it's important for critics NOT to socialize. If you have a close personal relationship with someone, how can you diss their movies? But for those of us on the Oscar-schmooze circuit, sheer fakery is the only way to go. Hollywood folks can't get enough gushing praise. "I love your movie!" keeps the skids greased for future encounters to come.

Happy Rodeo Holidays

I scooped up pseudonymous crew-member-for-hire Peggy Archer's photo of Christmas trimmings on Beverly Hills' Rodeo Drive from her film hacks blog. As she rightly observes: "Beverly Hills has sprouted chandeliers in boxes."

Brittania Waives the Rules

Sometimes trawling the spate of award season parties yields an insight or two. Obviously, Michael Sheen (The Queen), who delivered a lovely intro to BAFTA Brittania Award-winner Rachel Weisz (The Fountain) last night at the Hyatt Regency Century Plaza, and Forest Whitaker (The Last King of Scotland) and Tim Robbins (Catch a Fire), who delivered heartfelt hosannas to lifetime achievement award winner Clint Eastwood, are hoping that a little Oscar love will rub off on them this award season. Robbins may have seemed an odd choice to intro Eastwood, but he graciously thanked his Mystic River director not only for the masterful direction that won Robbins a supporting Oscar for Mystic River, but also for stepping up to defend him when he was being criticized for opposing the Iraq War. "Clint, he said, "You had my back." My insight? There's a wide range of reaction to "Flags of Our Fathers," but film industry folks love Eastwood even more than Steven Spielberg, who squeaked into the Best Picture race with Munich last year. Eastwood is the Good Dad of Hollywood, the pater familias, the leader with good values who shows us the way. Eastwood can do no wrong. (And Stephen Frye is up there with John Waters as my fave witty award show host.)

As for Pete Hammond's assessment of Oscars and boxoffice, my sense is: Catch a Fire, Hollywoodland and Black Dahlia are dead. Flags of Our Fathers is very much alive—Paramount and DreamWorks just have to suck it up and hang in there til it gets a boost from Iwo Jima in February. The Academy actors branch could come through with nominations for Little Children and Last King of Scotland. Hotel Rwanda did the lion's share of its business after Don Cheadle landed a nomination for Best Actor.

Weinsteins Talk

The Wall Street Journal's Q & A format for an interview with Bob and Harvey Weinstein limited the paper's ability to call the brothers on some of their lofty pronouncements, despite a healthy use of editorial brackets. Oddly, there was no mention of how the Weinsteins feel about not releasing their films themselves, but through MGM.

Last night at the Bobby AFI Fest opening night gala at the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel, Harvey was still talking about the cash their video library Genius is throwing off. I just hope that these former film mavens and Oscar hype-meisters aren't so focused on achieving billionaire boys club status that they stop supporting quality movies. When I asked about the Algerian submission for the Oscar, Harvey responded, "I'm taking care of Indigenes."

In the VIP room, Bobby writer-director Emilio Estevez was talking to a middle-aged woman who was the inspiration for Lindsay Lohan's character in the film. "She married two men to keep them from going to Vietnam," he said. "Interviewing her helped me crack the story's spine." I didn't see Lohan, but in the sea of black I spotted the diminutive Elijah Wood hanging with pals out by the pool. UPDATE: Marc Malkin's more expansive party dish.

World Trade Center Oscar Party

I dropped by a little World Trade Center affair at Morton's last week. Clustered by the front door were CAA honcho Bryan Lourd and Paramount's Gail Berman and Brad Grey, World Trade Center director Oliver Stone and producer Stacey Sher, and Paramount producer Lorenzo Di Bonaventura. Yes, Time's Jeffrey Ressner is right, this was an Oscar award season party designed to drum up press support for their movie. Of course, what else would it be? Everyone knew the drill. Inside the party, production co-president Brad Weston was high on the studio's slate for 2007 (most expensive movie? Michael Bay's Transformers, natch) and really excited about 2008. And financeer Moritz Borman talked about how much countries around the world, especially Germany and France, are turning against American movies as well as American foreign policy. When Stone did PR for World Trade Center in America, he had to be careful not to send a political message; when he went overseas he was encouraged to be more critical of the U.S. The movie's foreign gross ($76 million) has recently passed its domestic gross ($70 million) for a total of $146.9 million. As for its Oscar chances? They had to do something, because at this point, I'm not hearing the buzz.

Marie Antoinette Serves More Cake

[posted by Gregg Goldstein] New York's Museum of Modern Art was the stage for yet another chic afterparty for Sofia Coppola's Marie Antoinette, this time after its showing at the New York Film Festival. Some of the guests seemed to fancy themselves as just as regal and above it all as the royals in the movie. There was a collection of jewelry laced around the desserts and extravagant costumes from the film, but no VIP area, which may be one of the few concessions Sony made to the spirit of the commoners absent in the film.

Coppola's filmmaking skill has certainly allowed her to rise above any charges of nepotism from her famous father and his American Zoetrope, which coproduced the project, so I asked if her privileged upbringing had any influence on her choice to profile the ultimate pampered girl born into royalty? "I had a fairly normal childhood," she told me, "but I have been in situations as an adult that were extravagant, so that may have had some influence."

For more on Coppola's novel approach to making a biopic, check out this week's Risky Business.

Catch a Fire Does New York

[Posted by Gregg Goldstein] At the New York eatery Sarabeth's, Focus Features hosted an afternoon tea for Phillip Noyce's $15 million Oscar-hopeful "Catch a Fire" Wednesday. Attending were star Derek Luke with the real life South African hero he portrays in the film, Patrick Chamusso, co-star Bonnie Henna (a.k.a. Bonnie Mbuli, a South African actress who most notably starred in "Drum") and screenwriter Shawn Slovo. Noyce said he may soon return to major studio films after a string of acclaimed low-budget indies like "The Quiet American" and "Rabbit-Proof Fence." "I'm running out of money!" he joked.

Marie Antoinette At the Chateau Marmont

Sofia Coppola attracts a cool party crowd—and an 80s disco beat. Svelte fashionistas thronged the Chateau Marmont last night following an industry screening of Marie Antoinette at the Arclight. While Chanel's intimate soiree in the hotel garden and lobby, which was dressed like a ballroom with gilded mirrors and a bust of Marie Antoinette on the baby grand, didn't outshine the fabulously pink Cannes harborside premiere complete with fireworks, it did offer plenty of pink shrimp and salmon hors d'ouevres, stacks of tartes and bon-bons and a remarkable collection of revelers.

Early arrival Courtney Love hung out near the rear bar in a too-short black velvet dress. Anjelica Huston and Robert Graham stayed in the patio garden with Kirsten Dunst and her press rep Steven Huvane, Coppola, wearing red lips and a black dress and looking pregnant, with her agent Bart Walker, Geoffrey Rush, Drew Barrymore, Mischa Barton, Ione Skye, Mike White, Robin Tunney, Samantha Mathis, Barry Hirsch and Maria Bello, as reporters Elizabeth Snead, Bill Higgins, Marc Malkin, Merle Ginsberg and webmaster David Poland looked on.

Orlando Bloom, dressed in black with black hair in a pony tail under his porkpie hat, was surrounded by women, including Rose McGowan in a yellow satin sheath, who had never met him before. Fresh from shooting both the Tarantino and Rodriguez halves of the double feature Grind House, McGowan admitted that she still hadn't seen her performance as a blonde in Brian De Palma's The Black Dahlia.

Director Pedro Almodovar, his back improved, and his Volver star Penelope Cruz made a swing through the garden, collected Bloom and some pals, and exited the party en route to a more private affair. I followed their train through the lobby and on my way out, overheard Bloom as he loitered in front of the hotel elevators. "Cindy?" he asked a young ingenue. "Your name is Cindy? I'm Orlando."
[Photo by Wireimage]

Video: Borat Q&A at TIFF post-Projector Breakdown

Q: It's been said your country is oppressive. What do you say to that?

Borat: Umm, yes. Thank-you very much!

— posted by Sheigh

UPDATE: Anne here from Toronto: Embarrassing as it was to have a broken projector for the Borat screening Thursday night, the resulting video clip has been getting incredible traffic on the web, TIFF fest director Noah Cowan told me Saturday. So much so that Fox marketing approached the fest to use the videotaped improv that resulted as part of their PR campaign. When audiences finally got to see the movie, "it played over the top," Cowan reports. The press screening Sunday morning played like crazy, amid rolls and rolls of raucous belly laughter. The mock dock directed by Larry Charles never falters. It's one of the funniest movies I've ever seen. I understand there were several legal issues that had to be settled as a result of Sacha Baron Cohen's improvised crashing of events as the character Borat; the way Borat jumps into real situations in which the people have no idea what is happening--like Borat interviewing a feminist group, or a naked Borat chasing a grossly fat naked man into an elevator and through a hotel lobby and into a conference-- incites reactions that are, in fact, real. Borat has to be seen to be believed.