As I said before, this is my first film festival, so everything is a revelation to me, and every revelation is written in soggy stone. Meaning, whatever I learn about attending a film festival here, I will believe to be true about all film festivals until I attend more and am proven to be an even bigger idiot than I had previously believed. Which is something.
For those who don't know, AFI Fest takes place in Hollywood, right along the really brightly lit, tourist-filled stretch of Hollywood Boulevard. My only previous adventures in said area came when I visited LA four years ago, and then a few days ago when I went to the Roosevelt to get my press badge. Otherwise, I avoid the area at all costs. The word "Hollywood" has an air of elegance and magic to it, but Hollywood is actually pretty gross, and rundown, and full of homeless people and street performers and people dressed as knock-off licensed characters, such as a not-Chewbacca who has the roar down really well.
Not that this paticular stretch is that gross. The Dolby Theater is there, where the Oscars are held. Disney's El Capitan is there, too, with a giant Baymax on top. The Chinese Theater and the Egyptian are also there, and the other venues for the festival, but other than that, it's mostly tourist traps, like a dozen indiscernible shops and museums that don't deserve to be called museums. It's really packed, and I'm not big on crowds, but crowds are part of this experience, so oh well.
What I didn't realize is how much my press badge doesn't due. Because of either poor wording on the badge or me being an idiot (leaning toward the latter, of course), I thought my badge got me some sort of priority entry, which is not the case. Luckily, I had arrived decently early for Two Days, One Night, so I trudged my way to the back of the line, which wrapped around the corner into really smelly territory, and waited to be let into the Egyptian, my first time at the venue.
As the line started to move, and we neared the theater, a black SUV pulled up to the curb, and out jumps Marion Cotillard, looking absolutely stunning, and completely out of place in the relative dinginess of Hollywood. As we walked in along the wall of the courtyard, Cotillard walked the miniscule red carpet, illuminated by the flashes of dozens of cameras, the photographers yelling and purring for her attention.
I got into the theater without trouble, but found myself in the fourth row, neck craning to take in the action and the subtitles. Not the most desirable seat, but it did mean that Cotillard walked right by me when she took the podium to introduce the movie, and I got to behold her beauty that much more.
I had better luck getting into the Chinese for Red Army; I was #38, rather than #244. Gabe Polsky introduced the film with many thanks and apologies to his friends for disappearing during the making of the film. Many of the crew was there, including a couple of the higher-ups from Sony Pictures Classics and Christophe Beck, whose relationship to Buffy made my heart skip a beat upon seeing him.
Unfortunately, I've deigned to take the train all week, since it comes up right in the middle of all the action, and then I don't have to worry abot parking, but that means I can't stick around too late. So I missed the Q&A after the film, as well as the midnight selections, but hopefully my days will be so full that I won't regret trekking home before each day's end to reunite with my bed.
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