A dashing leading man by the name of Romain had a birthday at RDV, with most excellent Sally Jesse Raphael party favors. A birthday party of this scope is veritably cinematic.
What is it about big nightspot bashes that makes us think of the silver screen? Is it the drama? The comedy? The suspense ? The presence of pretty people? Is it the fact that at the end of the evening you can't remember any of the characters' names? Regardless, the festivities took us on a walk down Memory Lane, or, more aptly, the Hollywood Walk of Fame.
It's Julie Delpy, in that movie where she plays a charming but seriously messed up Frenchwoman.
Charlotte Gainsbourg and poor, poor Willem Defoe in Antichrist.
Caspar the Friendly Ghost: The USSR Remake. (Because he's red, a'ight? BAM. HISTORY.)
It's the new Wall Street, on the old Coyote Ugly set.
It's Janeane Garofalo and Uma Thurman in The Truth About Cats And Dogs!
It's Jay. No sign of Silent Bob.
We can't be the only ones who are weirdly reminded of Harry Potter by these shots. No? Fine, whatever, Can't Hardly Wait.
Hilary Swank in The Next Karate Kid. Or Sandra Bernhard in Dallas Doll, a 1994 movie in which, IMDB says, "a feisty independent golf player wreaks havoc in a suburban Sydney home by attempting to seduce every member of the family."
Miley Cyrus in Hannah Montana: Clurb Slurt.
Oh my. Not as many movies as we'd like.
Babette's Feast. No no, we take it back. We could make better cake nipples than that with our eyes closed. Shout out to Cake Wrecks on this one.
Not a movie, bur rather an old Tony Romo/J.Simp photo:
Shoes. Frosting. Frivolity. Inferred insecurity and self-loathing. This'll surely turn up in Sex and the City 2.
[Photos from Kirill Was Here]