Rambow

(This post is for Mr. Thunder. I probably would not have gotten around to writing it if not for his encouragement and desire to see the story in black and white.)

My lovely wife, who I celebrated our first wedding anniversary with a week ago, works at a very cool, very well-respected theatre organization in Brooklyn. As part of their Cinematique (read: movie series) they have a partnership with the Sundance film festival. While the main Sundance festival is held yearly in Park City and other places in Utah, there is an East Coast offshoot of the festival in Brooklyn every year.
So, since my wife was working the event, I was able to go to the opening night premeire and after-party (for free mind you). The movie that was being premiered was "Son of Rambow" a very funny, heartwarming British flick about kids in an English private school who try to make a movie influenced by "First Blood" (the first Rambo movie). It was a great film that the crowd seemed to love, although it did have to live up to last year's premeire: "Little Miss Sunshine." "Son of Rambow" held it's own and even made child actors more than just a bunch of annoying brats.
Okay, enough about the film itself...let's get to the important stuff: celebrity sightings!!
The movie was shown not in a conventional movie theater, but in a large, beautiful Opera House. Everyone had assigned seats, which is an odd thing for a movie screening. But we did get free bottles of water and bags of popcorn. That, and a large screen which was lowered from the ceiling onto the stage, transformed the Opera House into a very fancy movie theater.
The film was introduced by the president of the theater, who introduced the Brooklyn Borough President Marty Markowitz (who is known around Brooklyn as "Party Hearty Marty" for his many episodes of drunken debauchery at galas, events, and fundraisers). After his smarmy, greasy speech, he introduced Robert Redford.

Mr. Redford gave a nice, kinda rambling speech about Sundance and Brooklyn and how Sundance and Brooklyn were a perfect fit for one another. He then introduced Garth Jennings, the director of "Son of Rambow." Jennings was very funny and perfectly British in his speech. He only talked for a little while before introducing the movie. As I said before, the film was very good (see above if you don't remember).
Once the film was over, it concluded with a standing ovation from the audience, everyone moved out into the main theater lobby, where there were snacks, a bar, and free beer. The after-party spilled out into the street and everyone was having a good time. LG and I met up with some of her friends and coworkers and hung out for a while before deciding that it was getting too crowded in there. Also, it was pretty late and no one had yet eaten dinner. Before we left however, there was some mingling to do and some people to meet. At one point, I noticed a tall, thin man with long hair and wearing a light-colored suit who was being photographed by a few people near one of the lobby doors. LG had previously told me that Wes Anderson would be at the premeire, so I quickly put two and two together and realized that it was Mr. Anderson himself that I had spotted. He was standing next to Garth Jennings, having their picture taken.

LG had a small stack of JSF postcards that Mr. Thunder had sent us. We had previously placed some of the postcards in a cool coffee shop down the street from our apartment, but had a few left over to place in the lobby of the theater, right outside the movie theater entrance. LG was set to put all of the postcards out, but I said I should give one to Wes Anderson first. She didn't really believe that I would do it, but I resolved to do it--both for me and for Mr. Thunder. I saw that Wes (yes, we're on a first name basis now) was temporarily alone and took the chance to walk over to the doorway where he was standing, but during my walk he was approached by some short, meaty man who looked like a big gabby fan. I was worried that I had missed my oppurtunity, because he was clearly on his way out of the theater and off into the Brooklyn night. I exited another door and stood at the bottom of the stairs outside of the doorway where he was standing. Once meaty fan left him alone, three photographers moved in like jackals and started to ask Wes if they could take his picture. He said "Yes" but by that time I had ascended the stairs, moved between the photographers, and was standing beside him. Our (very brief) conversation went something like this:

Me: Sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to say that I am a big fan of yours.
Wes: Thanks.
Me: I also wanted to give you this [hand him the postcard]. My friend runs a short film journal. He's also a huge fan and would love it if I gave you this.
Wes: Cool. [takes postcard] Thanks.
Me: Check it out if you get a chance.
Wes: I will.
Me: I appreciate it. Sorry to interrupt [Motioning towards photographers then giving him a pat on the shoulder as I turn away]
Wes: Don't worry about it. Quite alright [smiles]
Me: [smile back]

Not too scintillating, I confess, but a slight brush with fame nonetheless. I walked back inside to find LG and our friends and told her about my encounter (which she witnessed from across the room). I felt very cool. Personally, I think I handled the whole thing very nicely. No fumbling over words, didn't talk to long, got him to take the postcard, interrupted paparazzi.
I saw Wes a little while later as we were leaving for dinner. He was heading out as well, accompanied by a few friends. I looked at him quickly and noticed that he still had the postcard, as well as a few other things that people had given him, in his hands. He hadn't dumped them off to a friend or thrown them in the trash. He was heading out of the theater with everything he had been handed...including the postcard.
Hopefully this will all work out swimmingly for Mr. Thunder and the JSF. Maybe Wes will even tell his friends (Luke and Owen Wilson of course) about it. But, no matter what happens, it was quite an experience and it brought a little bit of celebrity into my life.

There ya go Jack. Hope it was a good enough story for you.