Gangs of skateboarding kids and mini clusters of homeless swilling winos (i.e. the usual residents of Bristo Square) were in for a surprise last Wednesday evening when the relative calm of the night was shattered by the sight of Sir Sean Connery grooving away and getting on down alongside ostrich-feathered dancing girls, a balkan-esque band and stilt walkers.
Yes, I'll just run that by you again - Sean Connery aka Sir Sean Connery aka James Bond aka the milkman to you and me was dancing in the street next to Bristo Square. Don't believe me? You will find evidence on YouTube.
I'm led to believe that Connery's spontaneous shake-a-tailfeather moment occured upon leaving the Teviot Union building after a brief appearance there at the Edinburgh International Film Festival's launch party which followed the UK premiere of The Illusionist at the nearby Festival Theatre. I'm delighted events kicked off there this year for its a far more glamorous, centrally located, upmarket and welcome change of venue from the concrete dreariness of Cineworld's car park which in recent years had fulfilled this purpose.
There any sense of occasion was severely diminished by its generally unappealing environment and the fact that the unwashed masses (aka the general public) were trying to get into the other 11 cinema screens to see Transformers Redux the directors extended pointless edition or Scream 7 in shit 3D alongside a couple of talking poodle flicks voiced by Adam Sandler that grossed a gazillion dollars in the first minute of their release. For premieres you need exclusivity, a decent building, steps to walk up and a large crowd watching, not a couple of spotty local kids in their shellsuits picking their nose and shouting 'are you famous?' over and over to everyone walking past in black tie.
Sadly I missed Connery's grooving as I arrived after he left (he must have been gutted to miss me) but did a little of my own in Teviot's top floor room thanks to DJ Lenny Love's swing-jazz-disco type of vibe.
Downstairs in the canteen they were serving free fish and chips which infuriated me as I had just bought fish and chips in Scotland's most expensive chippie shortly beforehand in order to absorb some of the party's free beer, a peculiar and quite strong french lager I believe whose name escapes me. I spent most of my time in the building's Loft Bar rooftop terrace trying not to be evicted by the polite, but over zealous security who asked that anyone not smoking leave in order to bring the weight of the roof we were standing on down to an acceptable load bearing weight.
But we didn't care about our imminent mass death, plunging to the room below and wiping out half the Scottish film industry in one fell swoop. The reaction was simply to light up another cigarette and hey presto, we didnt have to leave. An unhealthy lot us journos and film makers are.
On the celeb spotting front, apart from myself of course (a bona fide D minus celeb: a legend in my own lunchtime and only within a half mile radius of my house) I did spot an attractive young actress in a black dress, looking rather rebellious and cool in her strutting about-fag-in-hand-low cut black dress. But neither myself nor my colleagues could remember her name. All we could agree on was that she looked like Florence Welch, lead singer of Florence and the Machine. After a while it occured to us that it might actually be Florence Welch until we settled on the more prosaic possibility that it was in fact just a random punter who looked famous. I shall update you all dear readers should I find out any different (I'll probably find out that it was Her Majesty The Queen but didnt recognise her without her crown).
And so the film festival is underway once again. Stay tuned for a review of The People Versus George Lucas.
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