Last Remaining Seats: The Sting

That's right, folks!

It's summer again, which means another six Wednesdays of Last Remaining Seats, the movie series the nonprofit Los Angeles Conservancy puts on in the beautifully restored movie palaces downtown on Broadway. You've got no less than a dozen of these giant three- or four-story single-screen movie palaces in downtown L.A., all along Broadway between Second and Ninth Streets, built between 1910 and 1931. It's the single largest concentration of pre-World War II movie theaters in the country. I'm sure I said that last year when I blogged about the previous Last Remaining Seats series, but I'll say it again because it's a pretty impressive statistic. It's also the reason I joined the Conservancy a year ago March, after reading about their Bringing Back Broadway initiative in Westways, the Southern California Auto Club magazine.

The BBB project is quite comprehensive in scope and will take at least another five or six years. It's not just about making all the movie theaters pretty again. So much about Broadway could use a facelift. And get this: They're actually going to bring back the Broadway streetcar. Yes! Now that is something to look forward to. Because then, right? I could grab a bite at, say, the Edison, up on Main and 2nd. And then I could hop on the streetcar and head the seven blocks south to the Orpheum and not have to hurry through my meal because otherwise that's a pretty healthy walk. And not a walk I'd want to take with a stomach full of lobster corndogs and sweet potato fries. Believe me. I'm speaking from experience.

Tonight was the first night of the 2009 series. They showed The Sting at the Orpheum. That's awesome 'cause The Sting is one of those classics I've known about since forever and have always wanted to see but never got around to. And the Orpheum's beautiful. Oh heck, all three of the theaters restored so far (the other two are the Los Angeles and the Million Dollar) are monuments to eye candy.

As was my custom last year, I got downtown well ahead of time. Partly that's because you can't take anything for granted with traffic and the subway. Getting from work to the North Hollywood red line station wasn't so bad. And when it's rush hour, trains come pretty frequently. No mishaps tonight. I was downtown by six or six-thirty or so. The movie didn't start until eight. Again like last year, I took advantage of the extra time to have dinner at one of the innumerable awesome restaurants you've got downtown. Tonight I tried out this brand new Mexican joint on Bunker Hill (i.e. the northern half of downtown; the Broadway theaters are down in the southern half) called Casa Cocina y Cantina. I've been seeing ads for it in the LA. Opera programs for a couple months now. It was okay. Not the best Mexican joint I've ever been to, but the service was terrific. Very friendly and attentive, and mind you, they had a healthy Happy Hour crowd to deal with, many of whom showed up to watch the Lakers-Nuggets playoff game. The margaritas were especially good, even if they did forget the salt on the first one. I was there by myself, but they still served me the normal portion of chips and guacamole and salsa which, personally, would be just fine for two or three people. But I was hungry. And I love guac. Yes, I scarfed it, as I did the quesadillas even though they were so-so.

It was a hike down to the Orpheum. This is why I'm more then ready for the streetcar. Casa Cocina's on Grand Ave. between Third and Fourth. So you've got to head three or four blocks over to Broadway, and then six blocks south to Broadway and Ninth. Granted, it helps that Pershing Square's there to cut through, but still.

No matter. I got to the Orpheum with a good forty or so minutes to spare, plenty of time to use my Blackjack II to snap a bunch of pics of the theater before the movie started. I even got to visit the projection room for a spiel by the head projectionist about all the massive equipment up there. Seriously. Check it out among the photos at the bottom of this post. The projectors looked more like cannons.

As is always the case with these screenings, there's a bunch of stuff that happens beforehand. Well, maybe not a bunch, but a couple things anyway. Enough things so that the movie itself doesn't start until close to nine. L.A. Conservancy head Linda Dishman came out, as she always does, and gave a little spiel. She seems like a sweet gal and I hope I get to meet her someday. The main point of her pre-show spiels is to thank all the various sponsors who make these screenings possible. And she also gives the intros to the pre-show guests. It's usually either a guest lecturer, a series of two or three lecturers, and/or a Q&A with a scholar or, if the film's recent enough that those involved in its making are still alive, then a Q&A with people from the film. And it's that last one that was the highlight of tonight's pre-show activities. Even before Linda came out and did her thing, stagehands had already set up three chairs in the center of the stage, so it was obvious a Q&A of some sort was coming.

Before that, though, and somewhat annoyingly, we were treated to a hyper-energetic introduction to the film and the guests by this kat named Charles Phoenix. The program says he's an author and pop cultural enthusiast. But neither the program, nor Linda, nor Charlie himself said what he's written. According to Amazon, his specialty seems to be coffee table books about various sunny places in the fifties: Southern California in the fifties, Hawaii and Vegas in the fifties, that kind of stuff. For the purposes of this evening, though, it's the enthusiast part that seemed more relevant. In fact, enthusiast is far too weak a word for how hyper this guy is. What's more, like last year, he was decked out in an old-fashioned striped suit and bowler hat. And he talked really fast, like a circus showman or something. Seriously, if Charlie was trying to make us think he just stepped out of an old movie, he did a terrific job.

The main point of him being there was to interview two people involved in making The Sting. You had producer Tony Bill and screenwriter David S. Ward. As it turns out, I may have judged Charlie Phoenix a bit too harshly. He ended up getting a lot of great info out of Dave and Tony.

First, let's cover the basics because there were a lot of people in the audience who'd never seen this film. Like, say, me. And there were many others who hadn't seen it in quite some time. The Sting was originally released in December 1973. The reviews were glowing. The program actually had a reprint of the review from Variety, from December 12, 1973. Suffice it to say this isn't one of those films that was misunderstood when it first came out and was only appreciated decades later. No, this seems to have pretty much been an instant classic, evidenced by how many Oscars it scooped up, including Best Original Screenplay for Dave and Best Picture for Tony. Cool, huh? And apparently it was competing with George Lucas's American Graffiti in both categories. Wow, what a great year for movies then. I love American Graffiti. The Sting swept that year with seven Oscars total, the other five for directing, music, editing, art direction, and costume design. Based on my personal experience with watching the Oscars, those last two tend to go to period pieces, which The Sting certainly is. It's set in Chicago in September 1936.

The first thing Charlie asked them was about the very famous music. Even if you haven't seen The Sting, I know you've heard the music somewhere. I wish there was someway I could reproduce it for you here. Anyway, go to YouTube and you'll know what I mean. Apparently we have the screenwriter of all people, Dave, to thank for that. See, what happened was, during the production, Dave spent a lot of his free time listening to very early 20th century music, from the first decade of the century. It was just a phase, as he described it, nothing more. He knew that The Sting's director, George Roy Hill, was a big music buff. Dave told us that George was a PhD in music and that he had this ritual very early every morning of playing the piano the way a lot of people go to the gym first thing. "We didn't have gyms in those days," Dave joked. So anyway, Dave played him some of this old music just for fun. George listened and decided it would form the basis for The Sting's soundtrack. Dave told him it would be a bit anachronistic since The Sting is set in the thirties and the music's from thirty years earlier. George didn't care, he just went with it. And obviously the audience didn't care either. I don't care. For whatever reason, the music fits the film perfectly.

Dave had another great story about George. So when they first started shooting, right? George warned Dave not to talk to Paul Newman if he could help it. George had already directed Paul--and Robert Redford too for that matter--in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. So he had some experience with him. And later he'd direct Paul yet again in Slap Shot. Well anyway, George told Dave that if he talked to Paul, then Paul would go on and on about his character, asking loads of questions that ultimately wouldn't change anything in terms of his acting. Dave took this advice to heart, and it meant the atmosphere on the set was awkward. Oh yeah, and that's another thing. George Roy Hill was one of those rare directors who didn't shut out the screenwriter during the production. Dave was very much welcome on the set for his input and for any last-minute rewrites, but he just couldn't talk to Paul. So the way Dave told it tonight, whenever he saw Paul getting near him between takes, he'd have to wander off and avoid eye contact. How weird.

Leave it to Paul to break the ice. During one day on set, Paul didn't seem to be around, so Dave figured he could relax. Wrong! Paul snuck up behind him and wrapped his arms around him and made him guess who it obviously was. Dave said they hit it off, but luckily Paul didn't ask him about the character. They talked about non-movie stuff. But then George walked over and told them to stop chatting. Dave said that George had an infamous evil eye. And he was using that to full effect now. Much to Dave's chagrin, Paul told George how Dave had given him all these great ideas about the character. Just as Dave was bracing himself for the third degree, Paul copped to the prank. The great thing for Dave was that, from that moment forward, he and Paul didn't have to avoid each other. The atmosphere on the set became more relaxed.

Dave also talked about Oscar night. This was of course way before the Kodak Theatre existed. The Oscar ceremony tended to alternate between the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion downtown and the Shrine Auditorium down by USC. While I lived a block north of the Shrine during my USC days, I never went inside. As for the Chandler, I've been there countless times. That's where LA Opera is based. For these Oscars, in the spring of '74, they had it in the Chandler. Dave remembers it pretty well. He said he was completely taken aback when he won. When he went up to the stage to accept, the lights were right in his eyes and he had no idea if he was looking into the camera. Dave's gone on to have a pretty decent career. He's written some of my favorite films, like Major League and Sleepless in Seattle.

Producer Tony Bill talked about some interesting stuff. For starters, he wasn't surprised at all that The Sting won Best Picture. That might sound arrogant, but that's not how he meant it. If you watch the Oscars, you know that they save the Best Picture trophy for the very end. Well, on this particular night, The Sting had already won six trophies by the time they got to the Best Picture category, the most of any film that night. So it just made sense that they'd give Best Picture to The Sting. That's all he meant. Usually if one film claims both the writing and directing awards, it'll nab Best Picture.

Tony talked about the carousel you see toward the beginning of the film. It's the same carousel they have on the Santa Monica Pier. At the time, the city of Santa Monica was about to get rid of it because it was old and decrepit. But then Tony swooped in and had it completely restored. Ostensibly they were doing it for the film, but after the production, the Santa Monica folks were so happy with how good it looked that they kept it where it was. So if you're ever in Santa Monica, know that the carousel on the pier is still there thanks to The Sting. Eventually it did need yet another paint job, but not until the nineties. Tony's crew had done a pretty thorough job obviously.

While small portions of the film were shot in Santa Monica and Chicago, most of The Sting was filmed at Universal. As convenient as that was, they still had to create backdrops to make the audience think they were in Chicago. This is where Tony became really proud of his troops. They came up with a whole bunch of matte paintings for the backdrops which, I have to say after seeing the film, did look pretty good.

The best anecdotes Tony shared were about Robert Redford and Robert Shaw. Two weeks before the shoot, Robert Shaw tore his Achilles or something playing racquetball. He went to George Roy Hill and said there was no way he could do the film. But George? He brushed it off and said don't worry about it. When Robert Shaw showed him the cane he had to use, George was like, "That means your character will have a cane." And it's funny. During the film, sure enough, Robert Shaw's hobbling around with his cane, and it's never explained why. Further, you never really care. His character's this big-time gangster from New York. Like a lot of gangsters, you figure he's absorbed his fair share of wounds. I actually had no idea Robert Shaw was in this before tonight. That's pretty awesome. As a Bond fan, I've always considered his character Grant in From Russia with Love one of the best bad guys ever. He was also great in Jaws, and as the Sheriff of Nottingham opposite Sean Connery in Robin and Marian. Not surprisingly, he made a great bad guy in The Sting. Dude had bad guys down to a science.

Robert Redford also hurt himself just before shooting. He broke his thumb playing tennis. When you see The Sting, that's why that one thumb is always akimbo. Tony said some of the critics gave Redford a lot of props because they thought he was channeling Jimmy Cagney. Hilarious.

That does it for the Q&A. I don't want to talk about the film too much because, as with any movie that centers on a con or a heist, it's chockfull of twists and turns. But the plot isn't that complicated. The best films tend to have the simple plot lines. This one's no exception. The Sting is basically a simple revenge story. Robert Redford plays a small-town con artist named Johnny Hooker (great name). His specialty is what they call the quick con. His partner is an older black guy named Luther, played by Robert Earl Jones, father to James Earl "Darth Vader" Jones, which is awesome. That basso profundo runs in the family. Robert Earl had quite the career apparently, but I'd never seen him in anything before tonight.

When we first meet Johnny and Luther, they pull off a con against this one gangster who, unbeknownst to them, works for a big-time New York crime boss named Doyle Lonnegan (yes, that's Robert Shaw). Doyle's furious that someone would rip him off, so he orders someone to reciprocate in kind. His guys show up and kill Luther. And Luther had a lot of family we'd gotten to meet beforehand, so it's especially poignant the way these assholes dispatch him so brutally in his apartment. Johnny wants revenge.

That's what takes him to Chicago to meet Paul Newman's character, Henry Gondorff. Henry had been friends with Luther. Whereas Johnny's good at the small cons, Henry's good at the big stuff, what they call the long con. Johnny and Henry team up to pull off a long con against Doyle. And so there's the essential thrust of the story. 'Course there's tons of drama along the way. That's the thing about long cons. Not only are they, well, long, but they typically involve a lot of people. Henry and Johnny assemble a whole crew to make it look like they run a track betting office. It's hilarious. They pull out all the stops to convince Doyle they're legit. The cops find out about it and want in on it. But are the cops in Doyle's pocket? And so on. It's also got a terrific cast. In addition to Newman, Redford, Shaw, and Darth Vader's dad, you've got folks like Ray "My Favorite Martian" Walston and Charles Durning.

If you haven't seen this classic, don't hesitate. Throw it on that queue! The fact that I got to see it at the Orpheum's pretty awesome. See? This is why I'm part of the L.A. Conservancy. The Sting at the Orpheum. It doesn't get much better than that if you're a movie nut like me.

Lebowski Fest 2009

It's kind of funny that I've become such a fan of The Big Lebowski. I can remember seeing it when it first came out in March of 1998. I was in my last semester of college. The most recent Coen Brothers film was Fargo (1996). As with their more recent No Country for Old Men, Fargo was an Oscar darling. It was nominated for a bunch of trophies and won two: Best Original Screenplay (written by both brothers) and Best Actress for Frances McDormand (Joel Coen's wife). As you can imagine, hope for their follow-up was high.

As with their No Country follow-up, however (2008's Burn After Reading), their follow-up to Fargo sort of caught everyone off-guard. From what I recall, most critics weren't really sure what to make of The Big Lebowski. I think Entertainment Weekly gave it a B- or something. I never did see Fargo when it first came out, by the way, but I did catch it on video before it won those Oscars. And much later, in 2004, I caught an AFI screening of it at the ArcLight Hollywood. Nope, The Big Lebowski was the first Coen Brothers movie I saw on the silver screen.

I have to admit that, like the critics, I walked out of the theater a bit befuddled. For starters, I wasn't entirely clear what the plot was. Who exactly scammed whom? Was Bunny really in on it? Or was she a complete innocent? I don't want to say too much about the story threads I hadn't originally caught onto for fear of spoiling it for those who've somehow managed to miss it. Anyway, however underwhelmed I was, I could still recognize the Coens as a unique voice. Ever since then, whenever they've come out with a new flick, regardless of the reviews, I always see it in the theater. O Brother, Where Art Thou? and their remake of The Ladykillers with Tom Hanks are two that come to mind between Lebowski and now. And I suppose No Country was decent. Honestly, I don't see what all the fuss was about. I hated the ending. I never read the Cormac McCarthy novel, but I understand the brothers hewed closely to it. Which makes me wonder why they'd make it at all. But I guess they saw a lot of photographic potential. I have to admit the photography was pretty terrific. But in the end it's all about the story, right?

Back to the Dude. After seeing Lebowski in the theater in March of '98, I didn't see it again until December 2005 when my mom got it for me for Christmas. She got it because I included it on the wish list I e-mailed her a few weeks earlier. As to what would prompt me to ask for it out of the blue after seven years? I can't quite remember. I think The Ladykillers was the Coens' most recent movie at that time. That's one of the few remakes that actually worked. I really enjoyed it. And/or perhaps I was feeling nostalgic for my college days, as 2005 was not a very good year for me. Perhaps I was trying, however futilely, to escape into my more innocent and carefree past. That's kind of hilarious because my college days were really neither of those things. Most folks' aren't, but most folks like to think they were.

Anyway, I asked my mom to get me The Big Lebowski on DVD for Christmas of '05. We watched it together at her place. I'm not sure what she thought of it. She'd never seen it before. Me? I understood the plot and appreciated the film in general much more than I did originally. Of course I was much older (and allegedly wiser) than the last time I'd seen it.

Six months or so later, my father came out to visit me in L.A. I forced him to watch it with me. It was the first time I'd seen it since Christmas. I liked it even more the third time. And then what do you know? Later that same summer the ArcLight Hollywood put on a Monday night screening of Lebowski as part of their annual Party ArcLight deal. Obviously I went. This was now my third time seeing Lebowski in eight months. And I was seeing it on the big screen for the first time in over eight years. It was a terrific experience, as seeing a great movie in a sold-out theater always is. For starters, you had the Dude fans who are really hardcore. They show up wearing those big Dude shades and bathrobes. Seriously, a few did wear bathrobes. And I'm sure they can recite the entire film from memory. Then you had more casual fans like me. And I could tell there were some folks in the crowd who'd never seen it before. I almost envy them. What's more, the ArcLight put the film in their 21+ auditorium, which is right next to their balcony bar. Yes, that's right. You can get drinks at the bar and bring them into the theater. If you're a Dude fan, then it should be no surprise that I got myself a White Russian ("Can I get another Caucasian, Gary?"). And I got a box of Goobers to go with it, the closest I could get to beer nuts.

The next time I saw Lebowski was at the Egyptian Theatre in Hollywood. The nonprofit that runs the Egyptian, American Cinemateque, put on a tenth anniversary screening of it in March of 2008. They had a couple actors from the film, including James G. Hoosier, who played Liam, Jesus's bowling partner who's perhaps most famous for the slo-mo belly shake at the beginning of the film. He actually stayed and watched the film up in the top row just a few seats down from me. Pretty cool.

Anyway, at this point I was a pretty huge Dude fan. But I'd never been to a Lebowski Fest. I didn't even know about them until last March when it was advertised in one of my weekly concert e-mails from Live Nation. They own the Wiltern Theatre in L.A., which is where the Lebowski Fest L.A. was put on. Yes, I need to qualify "Lebowski Fest" with "L.A." because they have these things all over the country now. It started in Louisville, Kentucky back in 2002 and has since tied the country together like the Dude's rug does his apartment.

It's a two-day affair. On day one they show the film in a concert venue where people from the film show up and there's a lot of pre-show stuff. And then day two's at a bowling alley. Lebowski Fest L.A. took place a week ago Thursday and Friday (May 7 and 8). While I went to the screening on the 7th, I skipped the bowling party the next day, mainly because it was at some bowling alley way the hell down in Lakewood or something. And it was at two in the afternoon. I like the Dude and all, but not enough to take a vacation day to sit in traffic. That's okay. There's plenty to talk about from the first night.

It had been awhile since I went to the Wiltern. Again, it's normally a concert venue. I've been there to see folks like Death Cab for Cutie and Rilo Kiley. I can't remember the last time I was there. Maybe it was Rilo Kiley back in 200.....6 maybe? It was on Father's Day, I remember that. Feist was the opening act, and someone from the audience gave her their cell so she could call her dad right there on stage. Anyway, any excuse to go to the Wiltern is a good one. It's in this beautifully restored Art Deco building in L.A.'s Mid Wilshire district, conveniently accessible by subway from the Valley.

The huge lobby had a bunch of stuff going on. All along the left side were a good two or three bars. And get this: The barkeeps were dressed up as characters from the film. The one who served me my Caucasian was all decked out like Jesus, complete with purple bowling jumpsuit and black hairnet. Over on the right you had the souvenir counter, and finally a snack window by the corridor leading to the auditorium entrances. I saw on the Lebowski Fest site that this was the first L.A. Fest in two years. I sure hope they don't take another year off, but just in case they do, I had to get myself a T-shirt. They had several, some with quotes from the film, others that were bowling shirts. It was tough to choose, but in the end I opted for the one with the Festival logo on the back with this quote from the film on the front: "Ever Thus to Deadbeats, Lebowski." They also had a whole slew of bumper stickers with various quotes. I asked for two ("Careful, man, there's a beverage here!" and "This aggression will not stand, man!"), but the woman behind the counter said that if I bought them, I'd have to leave. Huh? I should've asked what the logic was behind that. Maybe they were afraid people would buy them and plaster the seats and walls with them. Search me. Anyway, she said I should wait until I was leaving before stopping by. When I did leave a few hours later, I was pretty hammered on White Russians, but not enough to forget about these Dude tokens. They're now proudly adorning the outside wall of my cubicle.

I had a good two or so Caucasians while walking around the Wiltern. It's a huge place, like those old restored theaters downtown where I see the L.A. Conservancy screenings every summer (see my Last Remaining Seats posts from June and July of last year; I'll have more this year). No kidding, these old movie palaces really are palaces. We're talking three or four floors.

More fascinating than the theater on this night were the people, a good many of whom were hardcore Lebowski fans. Forget about that screening at the ArcLight. Here you had people decked out as the Dude, Jesus, the German nihilists, the elder Lebowski in a wheelchair. You name it. Seriously, pick any character from the film, no matter how minor or peripheral, and someone was there dressed up as them. Or hardly dressed at all, as was the case with the Bunny fans.

Anyway, so I wandered around and nursed Caucasians before finally going back down to the first floor and entering the auditorium from the back right. The first level of the auditorium had two bars at the back on either side. I didn't pay enough to get a seat toward the front. The back half of the floor had plenty of standing room, though. I sort of parked myself by the bar at the back right and stayed there for the remainder of the night. And I had far too many Caucasians, as you'll see later. I should've eaten something beforehand. Caucasians on an empty stomach: You're just asking for it.

They had all kinds of pre-show stuff. We're talking a good two hours' worth or so. Perhaps the most intriguing act was this five-year-old kid from Japan who played electric guitar. Yes, you read that right. And he's in the Guinness Book of World Records for being the World's Youngest Rock Star or something. I'm not sure if that's the official record, but I think so. He had a full band (of adults) backing him up, and he just stood up at the mic and rocked away for at least a half-hour or so. He sang, but his guitar drowned him out. I couldn't tell if he was singing in English or Japanese. No matter. The entire sellout crowd of two thousand was more than into it. I was enjoying a good Caucasian buzz, which helped. Who cared what the kid was saying? Little dude was jamming.

And then after that, some host guy came out and introduced a bunch of the supporting players from the film. And each one reproduced their signature gesture from the film. Like that guy I saw at the Egyptian last year who played Liam, James G. Hoosier. Yes, he did the belly shake on stage. And in slow motion. You also had Philip Moon, the guy who played Wu, who pissed on the Dude's rug and thus set in motion the whole wild chain of events. What do you think he did on stage? Yes, you know it. He pissed on a rug. I'm not kidding! They put out this rug like the one from the film. Phil turned his back to the audience and took a leak right on it.

Let's see, who else? You had Peter Siragusa, who plays Gary, the bowling alley bartender. It's funny, you never really see him in the film. One scene he hands the Dude a Caucasian, and his left arm protrudes into the screen briefly as he does so. Apparently people wanted to see that reproduced because when Peter was onstage, he pretended like he was serving a drink with his left hand. The crowd went wild. Don't ask.

That cute blonde from the beginning when the Dude buys milk at Ralphs was also there. Her name's Robin Jones. She's officially credited in the film as "checkout girl" or something. Actually I take that back. She's not credited at all, but that's how they plugged her on the Fest's website. I have to say she's adorable. Her big thing in the film is to smack her gum and blow a bubble while the Dude shows up to pay for his milk. What do you think she did on stage? Do I really need to say it?

As it turns out, Robin's got a twin. I'm not sure, but there's a whole backstory there. I think they're from Canada or something. What was cool was that I got to flirt with her at the bar. While Robin was wearing her Ralphs getup, complete with the red apron, her sister was decked out in a turquoise evening dress. She was approached by some guys who wanted her picture and then flirted with her. Meanwhile, Robin was left alone, and I chatted with her for a good ten minutes or so. Had I been sober, I'm not sure I would've had the nerve. But by this time, dear reader, I'd had a few Caucasians and at least one beer. Again, I hadn't eaten anything since lunch, so I was feeling it. But I was still coherent. Robin was asking me questions, like was this my first Lebowski Fest and so on. She explained the whole Fest to me and how she goes to all of them. And she also told me this was the first time they'd done it at the Wiltern. The one two years ago was at the Knitting Factory, which is a cool venue and all but much smaller.

One thing I didn't know until a year or two ago was that the Dude's based on a real person. He's an agent for movie producers (producer's rep as they say) named Jeff Dowd. Well, he was there too. And they didn't just invite him up for five seconds like the other guests. They left him on the stage by himself so he could give a spiel, but I'm not sure about what because he seemed pretty stoned. I do remember him saying that he'd gotten his act together and that he was ready for a fresh start. Or something like that. Get this, though: The whole crowd booed him off the stage. I may be a Fest rookie, but I have a feeling this is sort of a ritual. Jeff Dowd comes up on stage and mumbles and rambles until getting the boot. Later on, while the movie was playing, I caught sight of him wandering through the crowd, drink in hand (I couldn't tell if it was a White Russian), and saying hi to everyone. He seemed very happy and very drunk.

I've heard that Jeff Bridges has been at past Fests, but he couldn't make it to this one. I can't say I'm surprised. Dude's in everything. How could he have the time? No matter. He did, however, have the time to record a video message that they played on the big screen. It was hilarious. They pretended it was a live satellite feed. It was all fuzzy at first. And then it cleared. And we're looking at the back of someone who's sitting at a desk with their head down, as if passed out. You couldn't tell it was Jeff Bridges. But then he "wakes up" and turns around to the screen. Yes, we all cheered, partly because he was all decked out in Dudewear. Not the robe. It was that beige sweater. And his hair and beard were styled like in the movie, only noticeably grayer. He had a Caucasian in hand with a little straw that he sucked on while apologizing for not making the Fest. And then just before signing off--this might be my favorite moment of the whole night--he put on his helmet from Tron. If the crowd wasn't going nuts before, they were now. Come on, how cool is that? In one drunken gesture Jeff Bridges combined two of his most popular characters.

The Wiltern had opened the doors at eight, and it was past ten o'clock when the movie finally started. I was thoroughly drunk. And, I'm ashamed to say, I was flirting somewhat shamelessly with the Latina barkeep. In fact, I was more interested in talking to her than watching the movie. Awful, I know. What's more, I didn't even stay for the whole movie. Partly that was because I had no choice. The subways stop running at midnight. But also, quite frankly, I was tanked and needed to get home, stat, before getting myself in trouble.

I scooped up the two bumper stickers I tried to get earlier. It was hilarious. The guy behind the counter (where'd that cute gal go?) gave me the bumper stickers and immediately said, kind of gruffly too, that I had to leave at once. Seriously, I think he was kind of mad. It can't've been because of me because I hadn't done anything. Maybe other customers had given him shit. Who knows? I got a hotdog from that snack window, trying in vain to soak up some of the booze, but it was all in vain.

I went across the street to the subway stop just in time for the 11:45pm train. I was so hammered that when the train showed up, I wasn't sure if I should get on it. My drunkenness made me think I was at a stop with multiple trains when, in fact, it was the end of the line and there was only one direction to go. The two sheriff's deputies patrolling the platform no doubt could tell I was tanked because they were fucking furious as they told me to get on the train. As for my stop, it's at the other end of the line, in North Hollywood. Thank Christ it is the last stop because I passed out on the way. All the people getting off woke me up. I would've missed my stop!

No matter. Lesson learned. I had a great time. Only next time, remind me to have dinner beforehand. And not hit on any barkeeps. And maybe I should drive. That'll keep me from drinking so much, and I can stay the whole length of the movie.