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Knocking back dirty Grey Goose martinis and dancing in Christian Louboutin heels is hard work, and thus around 1 a.m., everyone at the Holts party longingly eyed the decadent dessert table laden with three-tiered cakes and colourful candies. Lifting a cover and descending on a blueberry, a daring man was suddenly surrounded by three security guards:
“Sir, you can’t eat the cake.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
Having survived the insane crowds and pure bedlam of the eTalk party, we appreciated the smooth escalator ride down into the Holts Diner and the simple arm gesture required to obtain an Irreverent Grey Goose cocktail. Holts as we know it was unrecognizable, transformed into a classic ’50s-style diner with old-school booths, ice cream sundaes and retro posters of pin-up babes. We went from rubbing shoulders with 905er Tanya Kim clones to rubbing shoulders with strangers from a Norman Rockwell painting. The Rosedale brood and prosperous bohemians stood in huddles, chatting with their backs to the crowd. When Brooklyn-based MGMT took to the stage—all band members carrying stuffed dogs (don’t ask, we didn’t)—the pretty hipsters zoomed in to rock out. Toronto’s creative elite was represented by The Hills After Show co-host Dan Levy, producers Robert and Ari Lantos, The Hour’s George Stroumboulopoulos, hip-hop artist K-OS, Drake Hotel owner Jeff Stober, Amber bar owner Toufik Sarwa and Queen West cool kids Fritz Helder and the Phantoms. Actor Sophia Bush, D Squared, Grace Park (a.k.a. Boomer from Battlestar Gallactica), Jeremy Piven and Gael Garcia Bernal made the A-list—but that didn’t mean they could butt into the washroom line. The steamy Blindness star was stuck in a 20-minute queue for the one downstairs facility, like some regular pedestrian with a troubled bladder. He appeared to take it all in stride. The party, all in all, was a swank and successful piss-up.—Jen McNeely“
Zack and Miri Make a Porno was up against a lot of roadblocks due to, ahem, stiff MPAA (Motion Picture Association of America) rating regulations. Now that it’s done, the comedy isn’t having any difficulty getting roaring laughter from TIFF audiences who relish dirty humour. Awkward as it might sound to be filmed naked bending over a coffee shop counter getting pillaged from behind with dark roast beans dropping from the sky, director Kevin Smith (Clerks, Dogma) put together a stellar cast. Naughty quotes and juicy tidbits after the jump.
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Samantha Ronson deejayed (read: played songs from her laptop) at the eTalk party on Friday, while a stern female bodyguard wagged a finger at anyone who tried to snap photos of the Lesbohan. The waifish Ronson actually spun some good tunes, starting with M.I.A.’s “Paper Planes”—the gunshots in that song always get the privileged class going, for some reason. A chain-smoking Lindsay Lohan was onstage as well, answering phone calls and trying to hide in the corner behind 4 Korners, the assisting DJs. A patron later commented that the top Lohan was wearing gave her “side cleavage,” which we think is this year’s faux pas equivalent to the muffin top.—Melita Kuburas“
On the dance floor at the Blindness party, we decided to be resourceful and ask man-about-town Shinan Govani where the after-after party was.
“It’s almost 3 a.m. This is the after party,” he said in between some rather goofy dance moves.
Friday’s eTalk party at the CTV building is in the running for crassest party at TIFF—or at least the one most resembling a barnyard. It took 20 minutes to get a drink, and it was enormously undignified to be smooshed on the stairwell and yelled at like third graders by security. Just another night out in the entertainment district? Maybe—but then something of Biblical proportion started to take shape. Gospel chants began, then drumbeats escalated to an intense degree. It felt as though the CTV parking lot was about to split open and money would blow up from the ground. Diddy had arrived. “Bad Boy 4 Life” kicked in and infected the crowd. It didn’t matter if you were behind the stage, rammed up against a fence or front and centre amid a sea of busty blondes—everyone simultaneously started to shake their rump with punctuating gang signs. It was a CTV corporate crunk-down. After the jump, our search for Lindsay Lohan.
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In the Soho bar lounge on Saturday, we overheard Noel Gallagher say he was a little surprised to find out Jimmy Page was in Toronto. Brit pop rocker Gallagher was in town headlining the Virgin music festival on Sunday.
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On Friday night at a private party at Soho, we enjoyed a close encounter with a party gal on the make. Or rather, our date did. Mere moments after we left him at the duck and dumpling bar (our dos needed to be re-did), a tenacious young thing of unknown origin moved in for the kill. Must have been the “I don’t give a hoot, I’m kind of a big deal” look we coached him on in the cab on the way over that convinced her he was a capital-S Somebody in Movies.
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Snuggled on the couch at eTalk’s Blindness after party were Sandra Oh, Danny Glover and former governor general Adrienne Clarkson. Clarkson and Oh chatted for quite some time, and although we couldn’t get close enough to eavesdrop, we’re pretty sure their conversation had something to do with the censorship threat of Bill C-10 amendments.
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We hear that Kate Hudson, Petra Nemcova, Richard Branson and Tim Robbins stayed out of the rain at Muzik on Friday night at the huge Virgin party. Every time we think of Tim Robbins, we picture his puppet from Team America, and we don’t entirely trust ourselves not to break into song (you know the one) at the mere sight of him.
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The TIFF opening-night party at Liberty Grand felt like we were on the set of Due South, only with a lot of stinky cheese and vodka and CanCon clamouring. The bagpipes were fine—yes, we love them—but having the DJ stop so we could all watch a DND band hammer out a war song was a bit of a downer. The party reaffirmed the theory that Canadian identity is stuck in a zone of Mounties, prudishness, beef and beavers.
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Wearing his trademark eyeliner, red hat and black studded jacket, Boy George deejayed for a mostly attractive, drink-happy crowd at Ultra Supper Club on Thursday.
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We are slightly weary of signature cocktails. Sure, we sidled up to the Skyy vodka bar at the Liberty Grand at last night’s Passchendaele gala party for a sip of the Stellar McKellar like everyone else. We read the description, and we thought, Why not—let’s see how the Blindness star-writer would taste if he were booze (we were betting on devilish and delicious). We were handed a humourless vodka martini. Don McKellar, you taste like dry olives.
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Even the most devout hipsters can’t avoid the TIFF craze—hordes of them attended Vice Magazine’s annual Festival Ball at Hart House on Thursday. Though the celebs sighted are locals—we spotted MSTRKRFT, singer Gentleman Reg and Sloan’s Jay Ferguson with Eye Weekly critic Stuart Berman (a.k.a. anyone you might see at Wrongbar on a Friday night)—these folks might be a lot more popular among this crowd than, say, Jennifer Aniston or Patrick Dempsey.
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