It shouldn’t happen to a film journalist
Jamie vs bunfighting international journos.
‘Perplexing, inane queries are par for the course’
Today I hooked up with a major movie star on a street corner in his neck of the London woods and ambled to his favourite coffee shop for cake and chat. There was neither publicist nor time limit to contend with, meaning that any and all topics I could possibly wish to broach were covered in luxurious detail, and more besides.
Such experiences are increasingly rare. Access has concertinaed, with the time commitments that stars are willing to sign up for seeming to dwindle even as outlets have multiplied in the digital age. Nowadays, getting enough one-onone face-to-face access to establish a vestige of personal rapport is a boon, and frequently you find yourself squished around a table with various representatives of the press from other territories. All, naturally, are pursuing their own angle, which means enough overlapping dialogue to confuse Robert Altman, and the maddening certainty that Christian Bale will be cut off while delivering a pearl about his new film to instead tell us about his choice of hand cream. Yes, this really did happen, just as Michael Fassbender really was interrupted by an Australian journalist while describing the harsh realities of shooting Macbeth in the freezing highlands to share his feelings on surfing and barbies.
Still, the above line of questioning at least made sense, and there are always the national/local interest stories to contend with (“Have you ever visited Budapest?”). More perplexing was the journo on a TV junket who asked every member of the participating talent across three shows what they thought of The Doors. Sad to report, such inane queries are par for the course. “What is your personal matrix?” quizzed one journalist of Keanu Reeves, who was also asked, during The Day The Earth Stood Still junket, “What is the longest time you’ve stood still?” (Gobsmacked, he struggled in silence for an answer, resulting in one wag suggesting, “Now, perhaps?”) Alternatively there are journalists who fly 5,000 miles to say nothing. “Are you gonna ask a question or are you just here as ballast?” twinkled Kevin Costner to a quiet ‘participant’ during press duties for Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit.
I’d hope my own questions have always avoided irking my fellow journalists, though, I do have one major black mark against me. In LA for Jupiter Ascending, I emerged from the hotel in the morning and climbed into the mini-bus laid on for press. Despite my repeated concern that there were more to come, the driver was adamant that it was just me, and off we went. Sure enough, I found myself alone at the junket venue and, in time, a fleet of taxis rolled up. Later, at lunch, a German journo asked the group if anyone knew “which arsehole stole the bus?” Out of embarrassment, I, like everyone else, solemnly shook my head. What I didn’t consider was boarding the mini-bus with everyone else when the junket was done. One of the last on, I shrank into myself as the driver greeted me with a hearty “Hey man, you found everyone else!” and could only sit in shame-faced silence as 15 pairs of eyes bored into the back of my neck. Jamie will return next issue... For more misadventures follow: @jamie_graham9 on Twitter.