So I sent the above photo from the cell phone during a lull before the New York Film Critics Assn. got started with its awards dinner. Except it wasn't a dinner, it was a crowded room of appetizers and drinks and then there was this big ballroom (at the Supper Club) where you got dessert and tea or coffee and that's it.
Yes, I know it's free. But I thought I was getting dinner. So I'm a little hungry right now.
You can't see it, but in the gathering crowd down there is James Cromwell and Robin Williams and Peter Marber (who wrote "The Queen" and co-wrote "The Last King of Scotland") and eventually there will be other famous faces.
Like Forrest Whitaker and Jim Jarmusch.
(Cut me a bit of slack and trust me on this one: That's them. I was up on the balcony and it's a cell phone camera and I'm still kind of impressed I can do this sort of thing. Plus, as I discovered today, texting and randomly sending photos is sort of amusing and an excellent way to pass the time in a semi-legit sense.
Plus, by this point I was tipsy. Belvedere really is the tops when it comes to vodka, and it will knock you silly if you're not careful. I had two vodka and cokes in about a half-hours time and the wave of them came over me while I was sitting and mourning that I'd already eaten my thumb-sized chocolate ganache and eyeball-sized custard.
Not that it was boring, exactly, just rather … okay, it was boring at points. Robin Williams, as is his wont (he was there for "Happy Feet") of course livened up the proceedings, talking about gay penguins and how it's hard to blow a penguin and then noting the small girlchild on the far stage right laughin along with the rest of us. He tried toning it down, but come on, it's Robin Williams.
Anyway, the highlight of the evening was watching Martin ("Marty" to the locals) Scorsese get up on stage after being introduced by Leo DiCaprio (again, trust me on the photo here). He went on and on about being made excited about films again after watching this South Korean film, and that Japanese film, and this other film over here — and it's kind of endearing watching someone who is so clearly a movie wonk delight and revel in his work.
This is why we like Marty, because he still — after all these years — loves film and loves making film. You never get the sense that it's a job for him.
A nice evening out, but next year: Dinner, damnit. Or, I'll have to eat more appetizers.
P.S. I have now officially banished all old memories of The Supper Club, which I was last in some two New Years Eve eve's ago (that's not a typo) and I think someone slipped me something in my drink and I ended up wretchedly ill in the toilet, and had to be taken home by my date. Prior to that I'd been swing dancing with the best of 'em.