There was a “fake news anchor” working one party, on Monday night (Sept. 8), and a faux vampire surprising others at another.
The hullaballoo: all real.
While Robert Pattinson made a hey-there stop at Andrew Garfield’s party at America, the restaurant inside the Trump Toronto, Jon Stewart was getting some OMG attention of his own at Soho House, a few blocks away. There, where the Grey Goose was aflow and the diehards agog, America’s most prominent irony-maker, in town premiering his first film, was basking in Toronto-tinged, baked-good analogies. While he’d call his work on The Daily Show “like making donuts for 16 years,” making his TIFF film, Rosewater, was, well, more like getting a “chance to make a pizza.”
I took the opportunity to congratulate Jon on his crust. Then, couldn’t help but tell him, “You’ve come a long way since First Wives Club.” This caused the director to throw back his head and dissolve into a rictus grin. “You remember that?” he mustered. You bet I do. Long before he’d become an American icon, and even a two-time Oscar telecast host – Jon was briefly an unsuccessful talk show host on Fox, and occasional actor, at one point hired to play the lover of Goldie Hawn’s beau in the man-baiting First Wives Club. His scenes, though? Famously, they were all cut – or, as he once joshed in an interview, “I played her boyfriend…she broke up with me before the movie started.”
Now, look at him! Showing a confidence that some have not assumed he’d have as a filmmaker, his Rosewater is a solid debut. A true-life prison drama set in Iran, BBC even dubbed it “one of the most incisive movies about the post-9/11 ever made.”
It’s the kind of career rehab that might, indeed, be reassuring for the two hunks who I saw hang out at the Trump. Mr. Garfield and Mr. Pattinson: both British, both ambitious, both still trying to figure out how to navigate the trenches of fame after carrying two huge film franchises on their shoulders. The Twilight hunk and Spider Man spent a good chunk of time catching up at the back of the restaurant, the two of them standing directly behind the banquette I was perched at. It was the post-premiere party for Garfield’s new one – a serious drama called 99 Homes – and Robert had just zipped into town for his own premiere, Map to the Stars.
And though there’d been some unkind rumours a few years ago that these two lads kinda loathed each other, I saw zero signs of a rivalry. “Where’s Emma?” I heard Robert ask Andrew about his famous girlfriend. Normal party chatter. The two also appeared to exchange information via their phones – two guys at a party looking at screens! – and even ribbed each other about their beards. On that latter count, Andrew certainly has Robert beat: his is a full-on grizzly-man beard, while Robert’s fuzz was his usual several-days-grown-in.
Others making the rounds at the Trump, at the party sponsored by Grey Goose and Fiji Water, included Laura Dern, Michael Shannon, Justin Long, Eddie Redmayne… and, inexplicably, Lil Jon. Meanwhile, some thirty floors down, at the Calvin Bar, there was even more action in the hotel: it’s where Channing Tatum and Mark Ruffalo were hanging with some others for a good long time.
The night was full of cinema and bromance, I see.
The career-surge continued for Miles Teller, TIFF being the place where all kinds of oxygen can be pumped into careers. There he was, this same night, at Brassaii on King, getting the IMBD ‘Starmeter Award’ at an event hosted by the essential movie site. The 27-year-old actor, who’s been having a very big year – from indie films to a pivotal role in Divergent, and another in the upcoming Fantastic Four – has been in Toronto with the much-acclaimed Whiplash, in which Teller delivers big.
Following that award-nab, Miles dashed to the rooftop at the Thompson Hotel, on Wellington, where a Disaronno-hosted party was on hand for Whiplash. There, his entire family was out – including his grandparents, his model girlfriend (for what is a hot actor without one of those?), and his co-star in the movie, J.K. Simmons. Also on hand: two drummers, commandeered to engage in a live drum-off, set against the Toronto skyline and a sky flaunting a full moon.