The Day he crossed me
YOU’VE already heard about three-time Oscar winner Daniel Day
Lewis’ new movie, which I don’t even want to mention. I don’t care. I’m cranky. You shouldn’t think I earn my few paltry pfennigs easily. Here’s my night that night:
There was an aftermovie party. Guests like Dan Abrams, Jay Fielden, Fern Mallis, Oscar winner Mark Rylance, Joel Coen, who’s won four Oscars, Paul Haggis, who’s won two Oscars,
J.C. Chandor, who got nominated for an Oscar, and twice-nominated
Michael Shannon. We are not talking standee types on the R train. Some were in tux, some floorlength shmattas.
The double townhouse is a Foreign Relations Consul place Monday to Friday. Weekends it’s rentable. It has marble steps, marble floors, marble walls, marble ceiling. Real cuddly on the freezingest night we’ve had since 1740. Cold? Locked in its phone-booth-sized elevator was like where a butcher stows cow behinds.
Day-Lewis, with the warmth of a cobra, says this film’s his last. Hey, that works for me. The man’s a rodent. To ease my lawyers: an alleged rodent.
Shivering fotogs, TVniks, hatless guests, stood outside awaiting Himself. Only warm was
Steve Van Zandt because of that shmatta around his head. I arrived 8:45 and had a chair right inside the door because, prearranged, was to be our interview. DDL was due 9:05ish. Yeah. Right. Latvian time. Shove it — and him.
10:20 he showed. 10:24 he left. Stiffed us all. Stiffed the party. Stiffed 250 guests who braved the elements only to adore him. He stayed outside just sufficient minutes to face cameras. Not inside one second. Never walked in the door to shake a hand or be gracious to those who only wanted to worship him.
I was shivering. Since civilization knows what a wonderful kind loving person I am, I waited an hour and a half — for nothing — in a subzero marble entryway with a wide-open door. Even teeth that aren’t implants were chattering.
My thoughts were that I prefer Harvey to Daniel.
The Cinema Society’s Andrew Saffir, inquiring about my supposed prearranged interview, asked: “Get what you need? What did you get?” “Pleurisy,” I said.