Who walks into the TIFF gala but a monk
Monk in the house!
Into the cavernous splendour of the Royal York Hotel on Monday: a sea of cinephiles in evening wear, Meryl-loving patrons of the arts, and various usual suspects who looked like they might be people who might use “Best” as their signoffs in emails.
And, then, before moi, during the cocktail hour, leading into the gala: a trim teenager in a saffron-coloured robe, wrapped around him like a sarong, covering his body from the waist to the knees.
Antonio Banderas and Gary Oldman — who were somewhere — could wait. And who was this?
Making my introduction, I discovered that the 17-year-old — an unlikely sight at the la-dida TIFF Tribute Gala — was the only guest to travel from afar away as Bhutan to be here. Or, so, his translator informed, the sanguine-looking young man named Peyangki stared on.
Not knowing whether to shake his hand or do a bow of sorts, I opted for a half-bow with palms extended — I don’t know! — as the translator went on to confirm that this, yes, was the monk who is the subject of a movie at the Film Fest, alright: Sing Me a Song. It is one — a documentary — in which filmmaker Thomas Balmès, filming in a small nation nestled between China and India, first encountered Peyangki in a monastery living among the mountains when he was just 7-years-old.
Having followed his journey, the 17-year-old, now a bona fide monk, is still at the monastery, but … well … what happens when monks get cellphones? It is what forms the main spine of this Netflix original.
“Was this the first time he had been out of the country?”, I nudged the translator.
Indeed. Indeed, as Peyangki smiled, I was told it was also the first time he had been in a big city, period. “And does he know who Meryl Streep is?” I posed, referring to one of the honourees of this night, in Toronto. “Not really,” the translator said, conferring with the monk.
Wait? Not even The Devil Wears Prada? Again: no.
Well, that would make one of him! Filing into the main ballroom a little later, most of us non-monks were, among other things, enthralled to the sound of the three-time Oscar winner accepting her award (from Banderas and Oldman!), and even giving us a little ditty from Joni Mitchell (my colleague has a more detailed account of the gala).
It — in addition to an emotional award acceptance by Joaquin Phoenix — formed just one of the many splendid moments of this inaugural benefit. Dare I say, TIFF has established a terrific new annual event, here. Gauntlet: thrown. Meanwhile …
Timothée Chalamet, The Weeknd and Joaquin Phoenix walk into a bar. No, really. That is not a send-up. Add Adam Sandler to the mix, and it is precisely what happened when the post-midnight rolled, Monday night, for the adrenalinepacked film in which Sandler stars, UnCut Gems.
The party, held on King West at Arcane and hosted by Remy Martin, was a loud, sweaty, clubby good time. And Chalamet — who does not have a film at the Fest this year, but had joined the crowds to attend the huge premiere of the Joker earlier in the eve — was having what seemed to be a particularly good one, poured into what looked like a Fresh Prince of Bel-Air- style sweater, and his signature hair, a messy tangle.
The apex of the night? When The Weeknd started a clubwide Happy Birthday singsong to Sandler, who was celebrating his 53rd. A massive, three-tier blinged-out purple cake, with gold chains, and an image of a golden owl (I think?), was, at that point, rolled out. The beat, like TIFF, goes on.