Team Party Crash: The F-Word Premiere

The film's enthusiastic publicist, Cynthia Walker.

The Budweiser Clydesdales couldn t drag us to the Tribeca Film Festival. Thus, last night we sent Gawker special correspondent K. Eric Walters* and ace lensman Nikola Tamindzic to the premiere of The F-Word, a documentary following radioshow host Joe Pace as he protests the Republican National Convention (the "f-word" is freedom, or some suchery). After the jump, The Life Aquatic s Waris talks sneakers and Josh Hamilton snorts Splenda... —NH

The after-party was for a film I d never heard of and most likely will never hear of again, The F-Word. What was it about? Apparently events surrounding the Republican National Convention. Who starred in it? Sam Rockwell, Josh Hamilton, Callie Thorne and that Sikh dude from The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou. And the party?

Slippery as goose shit, and twice as loose.

Producer Tanya Selvaratnam keeps out the F-ing riff raff

We didn't see the fucking film either.

The event was in the back lounge of the Tribeca Grand Hotel, sectioned off from the main bar by a useless velvet rope. The intentionally dark lighting scheme made recognizing faces extremely difficult. Thankfully, Cynthia Walker was ready to solve all my problems. She introduced herself as the publicist for the F-Word, and as a glorified whore who ll give you a blow job in the motel room while we re on the road. [Ed-she said that? NH/ yeah, something like that. it s in my notes. shld have tape recorded it. KEW] I asked her who was coming. She said Ethan Hawke, Parker Posey, the entire cast of Hurlyburly, Boy George, Mark Ruffalo, and possibly Wes Anderson.** I told her to make sure that I talked to all the relatively famous people. She agreed, offering to bring them up to me as they came in.

Ethan, and perhaps something else, on Cynthia's mind.

With Cynthia willing to do my job for me, I hung around the velvet rope waiting for the reporting to arrive. Variously obscure film-types circled. Michael Almereyda, director of Hamlet and Nadja passed by, covering his Vampire-like face from the camera. Darren Aronovsky, director of Requiem for A Dream and judge at this year s festival, stopped to chat with F-Word director Jed Weintrob. (Weintrob calls him Darren Aron, for short. ) I asked Aronovsky who was going to win this year s big award? You ll have to wait until Saturday, he answered. My chance for a big scoop evaporated.

Friends call him Darren Aron.

Nick Goldfarb, F-Word producer. We suspect he saw the movie.

Cynthia was back. That s Tom Jarmusch, Cynthia said, pointing to an old dude. I had not been aware that Jim had a brother who was also a film maker. That s Rev. Billy, she said, pointing out another older dude. I gathered he ran some kind of left-wing Jesus Freak mission, and that somehow qualified him to be in the movie. That s Waris, she said.

Cynthia with Jim Jarmusch's brother.

Reverend Billy, natch.

We can thank Wes Anderson: Waris is a working actor.

I recognized Waris the turban gave him away. He was at the party with his girlfriend filmmaker Chira Clemente. He seemed to be enjoying himself, and was supposed to make his debut as a DJ later in the evening. Did he have a pair of those Steve Zissou Adidas? I made sure to get a pair. Wardrobe told me they didn t know if they had any left in stock, but I checked myself. They had three pairs, all size nine. I d been wearing them for five months in Italy, I wasn t going to leave the country without them.

"But if Wes doesn't make me a character actor, I always have my tables."

I wandered away from the rope to the back room. Cynthia caught up to me. She made the introduction to Josh Hamilton, fresh from the substance abusing Hurlyburly stage and star of The F-Word. I immediately fucked up, violating the cardinal rule of entertainment journalism never tell the truth. I hear the F-Word is getting mixed reviews, I started. He nodded. I backpedaled. But people here seem to think it s great. I changed the subject. So about Hurlyburly is that real pot you guys are smoking on stage? What about the coke? It s not real, he said. It s a weird herbal mixture, recipe that they made for the show. The coke is a sugar substitute called Xylitol. That s what I call it too.

Josh Hamilton, high as fucking kite on Xylitol.

"You sure that was a sugar substitute?"

Okay, on three: we didn't go to the screening!

Cynthia talks to an attentive member of the press.

The night was winding down. Ethan Hawke was nowhere to be seen. I asked Cynthia. She had heard he turned up for a second, but thought it was too loud and left.

He was a no-show at Nipple, too she said, her breasts pressing against my note-scribbling arm. Nipple? New York Public Library, nipple for short. And he was the honorary co-chair. Yes, I had heard about that. [ED-weren t you the one who reported it? Yes/KEW] Ethan Hawke is a big fat no-show! Can I quote you? I m never going to get people to have cappuccino with me in this city again!

All and all, though, Cynthia said it was a success for The F-Word a sold out auditorium of 750 people, with plans in the works to distribute the film nationally and on television. I complimented her on her PR whoring. She said thanks. The photographer and I exited the hotel. Neither of us got blowjobs.***

*Not fired yet.
**None of these people went to this party.
***As we waited for a cab, Cynthia found us. She had us take a picture of another filmmaker, Control Room director Jehane Noujaim.