Sunday, April 5, 2009

A note I wrote to my buddy Charlie

Morning Charlie

Something went down last night that the likes of your good self and few others would understand and enjoy so I thought I would share my sentiments of how things transpired. Working on the Clint Eastwood film as you know Charlie, and after mentioning to young Scotty Eastwood (Clints 5th out of 6 kids and a man with huge appreciation for the Cape Town women) that uncle Sol Kerzner was having a saure to celebrate the opening of his latest One&Only hotel, the wheels were put in motion. Scotty was keen to walk the red carpet and as all actors do, to milk the press for all he was worth. Now the young fella was down on the hiiiiighly exclusive guest list as Scott +1 and although he certainly had a dame or two to take along, our boy was happier to keep his arm free for perhaps meeting a brand new angel so he asked me to come along as +1. That was not a problem for me. I was just happy to help out. It was a late call up though and he just casually mentioned it while we were doing some training on the set for the film yesterday morning. "Hey ... so my people have come through with the guest list for that party ... you should come ... it'll be a blast (blast pronounced like Ass of course and not like aRse).They want me to do the whole press thing on the red carpet and there are sure to be some gorgeous women there ... you in?"
I replied in the affirmative.
Now I know a bit about One&Only resorts so was pretty curious and not a little excitable to see how the night would unfold. I popped on a suave T M Lewin white shirt. Luxury Fit with some kind of tricky collar that makes people take a second glance. I cheeky pair or linen pant (we laugh at the boneheads for saying pant instead on pants, but I have been informed by fashion folk that in fact pant is correct. Well I never!) and some decent black shoes. Not those crap things with half inch soles. A solid black leather pair that hold their own on most occasions. I would not normally finish the outfit off with a jacket, but this was as posh as you get for CT so I thought, why not, and popped one on.

Scotty and I were on time and although there was nobody calling him out to do the press thing, he was very happy to march his way to the red carpet announcing to the PR chicks that were there in their thousands that he was Scott Eastwood and ready for the press. It was something to behold. The professionalism of the lad was outstanding. The likes of Nicky Greenwall were onto him and a whole whack of other camera's too that represented one TV channel or the another. Then it was the journo's turn, then radio and so on. I just followed a couple of steps behind him. Just like a bodyguard. I was loving it. I saw the press assistants flipping through their face recognition sheets of paper with thumbnail pics on to hopefully match my head to a name and face in their data. I just smiled and cruised by. At the end of the press line and also behind some rope I was totally bemused to note there was actually a bunch of 10 girls and one gay dude all standing with their cell phones out to take pics of the celebs. They must have won competitions or something and could barely contain themselves as they jostled excitedly for position. The flash photography flashed back off the one young groupies braces as she stuck her head up from the back of the pack - Matt Damon had arrived and the levels off hysteria reached unprecedented levels. Francois Pienaar was quickly forgotten as all tried to get a piece of Jason Bourne.
Scotty and I made our way into the main party now and left the hungry press to the big star. It was directly to the bar that we were heading, but on route I had to step back to avoid a roving camera dude who had his light and lens burning brightly and pointing in my direction. I stepped back to let the approaching camera through and in so doing tripped over someones foot who was just behind me ... I was heading for a crash and would have landed on my back had it not been for a sturdy, well timed supporting hand to my left elbow. I was saved from the certain fall and turned my head to thank the good Samaritan with what may well have been a broken toe. The face I thanked was exquisitely framed by blonde locks and centred with some incredibly alluring eyes that drew me in so effortlessly and effectively that I did not even get to bring the rest of the beautiful features into focus right away and so did not immediately realise it was Sharon Stone playing the role of the Samaritan.
Now as special as the whole episode was, that bar jwas ust asking for punishment and I was happy to dish some out at this early stage of the preceding so onward we marched. After a few drinks with the many guests and checking out a little of the impressive One&Only hotel it was time to take this joll to another level as Scotty suggested we move on to the VIP section. I must say I thought it was quite a contradiction to me to have a VIP section when basically all the guests I could see were SA celebrities or big business dudes and babes. I should have been thinking a little bigger as I was to find out.
The VIP room was not big and only about 60 people were allowed in. I was quite bemused to be one of them, but again my first attentions were drawn to the bar. Johnny Walker Blue Label is not a drink I have ordered from a barmen before and I enjoyed it immensely. The precision that the dude poured the yellow nectar over the ice cubes was heart warming to witness. After some incredibly smooth sips I moved on to cheers Scotty and tell him what a splendid idea this was of his. I made it to the fella who was chatting to his Dad at the back of the room. When I got to him I realised that out of the 12 people or so that were standing there I was probably the only none 'A' lister. Charlie you will piss yourself when I tell you it was Scotty and his Dad - Clint, Matt Damon and his wife, Sharon Stone who had limped into the VIP section, frikkin Robert De Nero whom Matt was calling Bob, Mariiiiiah Carey who would hit some high notes later in the evening, Morgan Freeeman and a dame, Sol Kerzner and that PicknPay cat Ackers all in attendance.

Not likely to be a repeat joll like this one Charlie and although the old codgers amongst that lot cruised home earlyish, there was a lot more entertainment all through the night as Sol had brought in all sorts of top Jazz singers and performers. Not quite sure about the Danny K vibe that really did not jell on stage with the other legends. All in all a success though Charlie and one that you would have approved off. Ciao


Being Brazen said...

you met Clint Eastwood, im super jealous - lucky you!

Being Brazen said...

Anyone looking for a PA in the movie world - let me know ;-)

Anonymous said...

That sounds absolutely awesome! You lucky bugger.