Your own personal Ricky Schroder
July 2, 2007

I have a confession to make. As a boy, I needed to be Ricky Schroder. Laugh it up all you want, but he was the one that made me first stop and take notice of Hollywood, the glamour of the films, the coolness of Teen Idol Stardom. Hey, I was six, but I knew that the film industry was something that appealed to me.

Fast forward to {cough, cough, ahem, excuse me} years later, and here I am … still kinda wishing I was part of this whole Hollywood industry-thing. But only now, it’s much closer, much larger than I ever imagined as a kid, and thanks to LAFF, much more surreal than I could have ever dreamed.

For those of you filmmakers out there who happen to see this stuff everyday, stop reading now. This blog is not for you. No, it’s not. This blog is for those other people, those people that maybe are in a smaller town that has no real access to independent films, let alone film festivals. This blog is for people who look forward to the Oscar nominations, and read Premiere magazine for the scoop on the latest multiplex offerings. This blog is for those people that still have a need to be Ricky Schroder, only now it’s their own personal Ricky Schroder to hold on to.

Let me start of by saying, Ricky Schroder was not at the film festival. If he was, I didn’t know it. But Adrian Grenier was, strolling down the street with a beautiful date and a small (oh, is he going to say it? Is he? Is he?) entourage behind him. And my week was just starting. There is something so … not of this earth, seeing a celebrity on the street Here are the three phases of star-sighting:

• Phase 1: The ‘Is that …? No. But… Oh, my God’ phase lasts like maybe 13 seconds. In this stage you clarify with your friends that you are indeed on to said-celebrity’s presence. .
• Phase 2: The ‘Should I talk to him? Should I talk to him? Quick, Where’s the camera? phase’. For me, this phase consists of a nervous twinge in my stomach, and the ultimate game of ‘But what do I say?’ It always ends badly.
• Phase 3: The ‘Watch Everybody Recognize Him’ Stage. I think this one is my favorite. It plays like an episode of Jackass. No more explanation required.

Now, on any given day in LA, you have the opportunity to see a number of celebrities. But during a Film Festival, it becomes a game of sorts, like playing Punchbuggy when you were on road trips as a kid. Oh, my God! How much fun would that be? A Celebrity Scavenger Hunt at the next Film Festival. Any sighting of Michael Moore is worth, say 1000 points and/or two punches in the left arm. Let’s run with this, shall we? Maybe you could help me rack up the score points for this film festival. Some of the points needed to be scored are: Clea Duvall, Justin Long, Sam Rockwell, Michael McKean, Annette O’Toole, Shia LaBeouf, Brandon Routh, Josh Duhamel, Steve Buscemi, Joss Wheedon, etc, etc. Oh, name drop, name drop. But, well, what can I say? It’s a town all about who you know.

But wait, let me add on the penalty phase for the game. For the hundreds of points you gain sighting celebrities, you should lose about 50 every time somebody completely clueless to the laws of nature sits next to you. Mine happened during a screening of Joshua. This is when a woman that I affectionately know as ‘Wookie-Woman’ based on a joke she told me, sat next to me. In the course of the twenty minutes prior to the start of the movie she tried to take my press badge, told me that she was a children’s poet, recited 5 of her poems from start to finish, explained that she was a writer for a website that LAFF did not recognize, said she was the hired poet for Alec Baldwin and Kim Basinger, was put on retainer for the city of Beverly Hills to be used as a poet, admired RK Rowling (Her mistake, not mine) and the Harry Potter franchise because of how they keep the readers guessing and then proceeded to give examples from each of the books, dissected the current issues and problems with the Educational system in today’s society, explained that she was a comedian for the Laugh Factory, listed several of her jokes which made no sense to me, and began to list off the first chapter of her upcoming novel. This is all prior to the movie starting. During the movie, she kept turning and looking at my approval during the scenes. I wish I could show you what I mean, but I can’t. Let’s just say it was freaky. Now, I have nothing against people that I suspect have mental illness, nothing at all. I just don’t want them ruining my movie experience. So if it happens to you, minus 50 points. And I know you will. Several days later, I saw her again at a screening of Flight of the Living Dead. Halfway through the film, the guy sitting next to her stood up and moved to a different aisle. He huffed the entire time. Okay, so maybe it’s, like, minus 150. Let me know.

But for every frustrating encounter, LAFF knew how to bring it back to making you feel on top again. Even though I was not in attendance that night, my hats off to the festival organizers for pulling off the amazing Transformers premiere that took place in, I believe it was 5 theaters that night. I was just happy standing outside and watching the excitement on the streets including a Blond in an Escalade that ran over a pylon and almost a police officer after noticing Bernie Mac on the red carpet. Now, that’s some funny shit, let me tell you. It is so awesome to be around film premieres. For those of you that live in small towns, imagine Main Street taken over by bright lights, cameras, screaming press and fans, limos, rented luxury cars and large 3 story replicas of machines you haven’t seen since you were twelve …. Oh, I mean since you were {ahem, ahem … ah, forget it}.

I loved the Los Angeles Film Festival. It had, by far the most amazing and eclectic line-up of activities. The highlight came when I did not get into seeing the ‘Once More With Singing: Buffy Sing Along’. (Eclectic, much!) It started really late and I was waiting for Shane to come out, just sitting in the lobby. Okay, thanks LAFF for not throwing me out, even though you knew I slipped into the lobby and you didn’t even say anything about it. But after it started, this tall, handsome, young man … let’s call him Jesus (trust me, you would too) asked me if I wanted to watch it. I told him I didn’t have a ticket. He led me in, said “Merry Christmas” and promptly let me stand next to Joss Wheedon and Marti Noxon themselves. Okay, for a Buffy fan, being able to say I watched an episode with those two IS like Christmas. So, thank you Jesus ... oh, and Happy Birthday! Call me.

It’s over now, the Los Angeles Film Festival. And I would be remiss if I did not say thank you to the people that were so accommodating to this small, just starting out website. They really did go far beyond what they had to and I really need to say how much I appreciate them. Plus 50 points.

So to you up-and-coming filmmakers out there, to you small town kids who look at Hollywood with wide-eyed wonderment, to all of you not lucky enough to be born with a {nudge,nudge} Silver Spoon in your mouth (get it!!!!! If not IMDB it), hang on tight to your own personal Ricky Schroder. For me, the LAFF represented that ultimate Hollywood Maltese Falcon. You know. The, uh, stuff that dreams are made of.