So yesterday I attended a movie junket for the first time in over 20 years. I'm not gonna tell you the movie I was covering, or the outlet I was covering it for, until this information is actually pertinent (although you can probably guess the former), but I thought you'd enjoy this little, um, personal tidbit.
I was scheduled to do two video interviews, so I hung out in the breakfast/lunch buffet room of the facility, hoping maybe to get a little makeup and/or finish the Times' crossword. In keeping with the facility itself, a midtown Manhattan hotel known for, among other things, a spectacular breakfast kitchen, the grub was as good as buffet style gets. The junketeers around me, mostly TV types, were pretty much as I remembered them, albeit prettier, and slicker. But still prone to pronouncing inanities in too-loud voices. As in, "Y'know, it's funny, I've been seeing a lot of art flicks lately," and "What Conan failed to understand is that 'The Tonight Show' is NBC's car; they were just letting him drive it." I ran into several senior publicists who evinced surprise at seeing me there, and I shrugged. Soon I was herded to the waiting area, outside the makeshift studios wherein I would have two minutes with Star #1 and three minutes with Star #2. Over by the bit room where the press conference was to be held, another online film writer spotted me. He, too, look surprised as he came over to greet me.
"So," he asked, "you got a one-on-one with [name of major American film director redacted]?"
"Not today," I shrugged...again. "Those were different times." I looked around at the harried assistants with headsets all rushing around.
"Guess so," my acquaintance chuckled.
I shrugged once more. "I feel kinda like Tyrone Power at the end of Nightmare Alley."
"I don't get that reference."
Lucky you, I thought. But I didn't say it. Instead, I said, "It's a good picture, you should check it out some time."