The ultra-luxe book launch for novelist/screenwriter Gigi Levangie Grazer turned out to be a real Cinderella story when superstar Russell Crowe made a surprise appearance at the party.
Well, maybe not so much of a surprise, considering that Crowe‘s made two films with Gigi’s hubby, the spiky-haired powerhouse producer Brian Grazer. And we got lucky. The party took place just days before Russell’s highly publicized tantrum in an NYC hotel. Not a telephone was tossed in anyone’s direction.
The party was in full swing in the private room off of the Beverly Hills Hotel’s fabled Polo Lounge, a posh pink oasis away from prying eyes, where an elite social circle from the upper strata of Hollywood gathered to grab sleek, chic Gigi’s John Hancock on her latest potboiler Starter Wife. Her previous bestseller Maneater came on the heels of her successful stint as a screenwriter, with the Julia Roberts–Susan Sarandon hit Stepmom to her credit. The guests also grabbed a box of free Ugg boots and other goodies, just for attending the fete.
The bash proved alluring for an all-over-the-map guest list, who strolled the lush palm tree-lined path to the party, past pretty blonde guides clad in pink polo-shirts and toting big pink suitcases (read the book). Lara Flynn Boyle chatted animatedly in a corner with former 24 star Sarah Wynter; Thora Birch circulated through the crowd with both her mom and boyfriend in tow, followed by Peter Falk and his missus; steamy novelist Jackie Collins gave appropriate Hollywood air kisses to old school super-socialite Barbara Davis; the always beaming Maria Menounos gave me squeeze on her way in; actresses Mimi Rogers, Rebecca DeMornay and Judy Greer admired the board-shorts clad surfer boy who was on hand to pose for photos in front of a beach-y backdrop (a nod to Brian’s legendary surfer-dude beginnings, we presumed); and party girl Kim Stewart cruised through just quick enough, ugh, to snare some new Uggs.
But as fab-oo as the fete was proving in full swing, the party suddenly packed a powerful punch–figuratively if not literally–with Crowe‘s arrival. Unshaven and dressed casually in a white athletic warm-up jacket and tee, he looked healthy and lean–not at all the occasionally bloated figure his movies have required him to be–and his unexpected appearance set the guests atwitter.
There were no signs of Crowe‘s now infamous temper. The Oscar-winning Aussie did his best to keep his profile low in the close quarters, good naturedly endured the snaps from the professional photographers but politely declined posing for private shots with the party guests. Instead, he hung in a small circle of pals with Grazer and fellow Cinderella Man talents Craig Bierko and screenwriter Akiva Goldsman, as well as well-wishers Penny Marshall and Rita Wilson.
About another hour into the action, Russell’s lovely wife Danielle arrived with a gal pal in tow. A beautiful, diminutive blonde with a stunningly petite post-baby shape, she wore a champagne-colored silk camisole top and a long silver chain around her neck and came off extremely sweet and humble. As we waited in line on the patio, I overheard her debating how and when to properly approach Gigi to sign her copy of the book; even though she’s Russell Crowe‘s wife and their husbands have worked together twice on MAJOR films. She unassumingly approached Gigi, who fussed fabulously over her once she did (of course, Gigi fussed fabulously over everyone).
Russell would routinely do “drive bys,” tending to Dani, making sure she was OK, asking if she needed anything. Eventually, after working the party on their own, the couple found time together on the patio where they finished it out, arms around each other or holding hands. Russell seemed relaxed, cheerily domesticated and very attentive, and she seemed appreciative of his intentions. They seemed very much in love, and yet gave each other lots of breathing room. But apparently the distance of a continent or two gets Russell a little bijiggity, prompting his meltdown a week later, for which he has apologized profusely.
As I presented myself to Gigi, her husband, Brian, plopped down next to her to see if she needed anything, and hung around to gaze into her eyes as we chatted. I wondered if Brian had snapped up the film rights to Gigi’s tome. “No. He offered too much money,” she giggled. “I couldn’t take it, because I know it would take away from my clothing allowance.”
Gigi admitted that she did bounce ideas for her books off the other side of her Hollywood power couple–but only after careful consideration. “The only problem with Brian is if you live with Brian Grazer and you pitch an idea to him and he doesn’t like it, you’re dead in the water. Because that’s all of Hollywood saying ‘No, we turn down that idea. Go home. Go to bed and take a nap.’ I’m very careful about what I pitch to him. Very careful. I have to have it worked out fairly well.”
For his part, Brian said he keeps a respectful distance. “The first thing that she wrote was Stepmom, and I was dying, DYING to have that project. It was so good. But I had a very good friend who said ‘Look, you’ve got a great relationship, you love this girl. Don’t screw it up. Let her go and get it going. And she did it with Julia Roberts and Susan Sarandon and it was a very successful movie, and so…”
“He would have been a better producer,” Gigi interjected.
Brian’s eyes twinkled as he turned to her. “…and so she does this all on her own.”
Gigi returned the gaze. “It’s hard living with the best producer,” she said. Then she turned her own star wattage back onto high-beam. “But I AM fascinated with myself.”
