Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie may have bolted from the Beverly Hilton as soon as the Golden Globes were over, but they were just about the only stars in Hollywood who weren’t in a hurry to get back home (of course, only Brad and Angie have Maddox, Zahara and Shiloh to tuck in).
I kicked off my evening leaving the press room, congratulating Warren Beatty on his Cecil B. DeMille Award with a handshake (and quietly hoping some of the legendary lothario’s mojo would rub off on me). In the hallway outside Trader Vic’s, I ran smack into the middle of the Grey’s Anatomy mob, and was prepared to jump into the midst of their rejoicing, but as I embraced Chandra Wilson (I’d PROMISED her the night before that the show would win) I could see the mood was anything but celebratory.
The cast had just left the podium where Isaiah Washington made his wildly inappropriately timed and imprudently worded rebuttle of what he did or did not call T.R. Knight on the set of the show, heretofore referred to as the “f”-word. Now, as they assembled in the hallway preparing for one-on-one interviews, Washington had ducked out of sight and T.R.’s close friend Katherine Heigl was positively seething as she stormed past me, while the rest of the cast looked shell-shocked and confused.
On the patio outside, T.R. and Justin Chambers huddled together in an out of sight corner as Justin attempted to soothe T.R.’s jangled nerves. It didn’t seem to work, and T.R. remained outside by himself, eventually consoling himself with a long and very serious-looking cell phone conversation.
It was a shame to see the Grey’s cast have their big moment yanked out from under them by their cast member’s ill-conceived comment, but the rest of the hotel was abuzz with excitement as guest spilled out of the International Ballroom to hit what everyone was waiting for all day: the after-parties. Well, not everyone: Sarah Jessica Parker scurried out of the Hilton’s Lobby after staying at the Instyle/Time Warner party for all of 15 minutes, while the crowds started to pile up in the other direction.
But there was a decidedly different vibe happening outside all of the after-parties,, where even the night’s biggest winners were in a hurry to get in and out of the bashes. It’s not that they didn’t want to talk about their big night, or even that they’d had dust-ups like the Grey’s docs.
It was primarily because that brisk winter chill everyone was joking about on the red carpet, so unseasonably cool for Southern California even in January, had turned downright frigid after sundown, and the wind whipping the palm trees outside wasn’t helping (it may have been the first evening the words “wind chill factor” were uttered without irony in Beverly Hills) and given that the Paramount Pictures bash was held next door to the hotel in a now-vacant department store building, the path to the night’s hottest party (thanks to the Dreamgirls wins) made for the coldest trek of the night, and no one was in the mood to risk hypothermia on the red carpet to talk about their dress.
For example, Kelsey Grammer and wife Camille scurried between the Paramount and InStyle parties, but when his wife had had enough of icy breezes, Frasier left the building. Others found warmth in different forms: uber-auteur Steven Spielberg was feeling the love from a pair of Sachas (or Sashas, depending on your parents’ spelling preferences) as he was leaving to go home. Borat himself, Globe-toting Sacha Baron Cohen stopped Steven for a spirited ten-minute talk, and outside the InStyle feted the director’s 17-year-old daughter Sasha and Drew Barrymore (who was practically his daughter on the set of E.T.) planted simultaneous impromptu cheek kisses on either side of Steven’s furry face.
Dreaming at Paramount
Perhaps gathering ideas for the new Indiana Jones film he’s planning with the studio, Spielberg dodged the winter weather and tuxedoed crowds to hit the Paramount party, where he and Sasha joined up with his step-daughter Jessica Capshaw, who was gushing to friends about her new gig on Showtime’s The “L” Word. Sasha ditched dad for a while, so he huddled up with an all-star gang of cronies that included Warren Beatty, Annette Bening, Clint Eastwood and Paramount honcho Brad Gray.
Guests noshed on high-calorie fare including pizza, turkey meat loaf and macaroni and cheese—most were happy for something warm and comforting after their frigid trek, and yes, even in that skintight Elie Saab gown Beyonce was not curbing her appetite on the carbs. “I don’t starve myself—I love food too much,” she said as she accepted warm wishes on the film’s success while her beau Jay-Z played the good boyfriend at her side. In fact, before the ceremony Beyonce had hit the drive-thru at McDonald’s, just like I did.
“This was a dream for me,” Beyonce gushed, beaming in the direction of Jennifer Hudson. “I’m so happy for Jennifer, and just to be in the same room with these people–unbelievable. I mean, Meryl Streep said my name! How much better does that get?”
The only way it could be better was to have a Golden Globe in your hot little hands, like Jennifer Hudson did as she shook her groove thing on the dance floor, as her friends shrieked in delight and her publicist frantically tried to keep other boogie-ers from stepping on the train of Jennifer’s gown. The one-time American Idol reject was the most in-demand guest at the party, holding court with Vogue Editor-at-Large Andre Leon Talley, her fashion Svengali who made sure she held it together and checking that every button was buttoned and all was still zipped into place as Jennifer let anyone who asked hug her hold and caress her trophy, including Niecy Nash and Joy Bryant.
Eventually, though, she set the Globe down, leaving it under the supposedly watchful eye of her beau James Payton. Later, as her crew was ready to roll to another bash, they were just about to brace the chilly air again when a waitress told Jennifer that her trophy had been left unattended at her table. For about ten seconds James was nearly Jennifer Hudson’s ex-boyfriend, but she quickly forgave him—and hopefully made a mental note to assign anyone else future Oscar-watching duties.
Hilary Swank also dug into macaroni and cheese, drinking red wine with her man, CAA agent John Campisi, while Annette Bening narrowly avoided spilling champagne on her husband Warren Beatty when their arms were entangled. Rinko Kikuchi didn’t wait to hit the dance floor to start shimmying—inspired by the international language of music, she rocked out among a circle of friends, the fru-fru puffs of her Karl Lagerfeld Chanel gown flying in every direction. At the private Babel table, Brad and Angie’s seats were unfilled but Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu and Adriana Barraza joined Rinko to celebrate the film’s victory.
Maggie Gyllenhaal sat at a private table and picked at a cheese plate. She talked to her friends and one of them rubbed her back as fiancé Peter Sarsgaard stood by her side,
Patrick Dempsey, Ellen Pompeo and her music producer fiancé Chis Ivery had apparently recovered from Grey’s dramatic debacle—Dempsey wasn’t present for it—and found a quieter corner of the room near the bar, where Chris dutifully delivered drinks as Ellen, cuddled into his tux jacket, chitchatted with friends. They must have just missed running into her co-star James Pickens, Jr., and their boss Shonda Rhimes who did a quick circuit of the party apparently looking for they about 10 minutes after they’d went their separate ways.
“Dreamgirls has been a knock out experience for me,” said Jamie Foxx as he and his entourage wolfed down the turkey meatloaf and surveyed the scene. “I love being in the same room with Jack Nicholson and Warren Beatty-these guys are classic.” Still, he only stuck for 30 minutes—on the way out Jamie and his crew stopped by the major candy fountain Paramount had set up and stocked up their goodie bags with M and M’s, Skittles, licorice, chocolate mints and tons of other candy. Looks like Beyonce wasn’t the only junk food junkie in the cast.
Hot and Cold at HBO
I scrambled down to the HBO party down—past a trio of Big Love wives Jeanne Tripplehorn, Chloe Sevigny and Ginnifer Goodwin, planning to rendezvous after the arrival of Ginnifer’s beau Chris Klein—by the hotel’s Aqua Pool by Circa 55 just in time for the first major round of celebrity arrivals, as the Entourage posse rolled in together in little packs: first Adrian Grenier and Kevin Connolly, then Jeremy Piven and his mom and perma-awards date Joyce, then Jerry Ferrara and Kevin Dillon. Last to arrive was the show’s creator, the impeccably tuxedoed Mark Wahlberg—with his longtime girlfriend Rhea Durham on his arm—and he said that he would leave the serious hard partying to the boys on the show. “Those days are over for me,” he laughed, saying that it was their turn to notch up real-life Hollywood escapades that could be turned into episodes of the show.
Mark told me that he’d recently taken his daughter to an ice skating rink for the first time ever, and I told him that if it got any colder the pool would freeze over and we could go skating there. Indeed, the chilled environs at the open-air pool kept all but most dedicated nicotine addicts from congregating outside.
Instead everyone was crammed into Circa 55, where Daniel Dae Kim reunited with his long Lost co-star Harold Perrineau at one of the tables while Josh Holloway told us that it was “fun to not have to go to the awards and just to party hop” The Office’s Rainn Wilson huddled near Matthew Perry and Piven (Mrs. P lasted until 10:30 pm), while Matthew’s Studio 60 co-star Sarah Paulson got wild with gal pal Leslie Bibb of Talladega Nights, admitting to me that her first night as a nominee was really cool but also not all life has to offer, But then again, “I’m sure I’m comforting myself because I didn’t win!” she said. “Kyra Sedgwick was sitting at my table with hers and I was like ‘Can I hold it?’ like a freaky loser.”
Heroes co-stars Greg Grunberg and Hayden Panettiere officially spent more time together at the party than their characters have on the show, “To be here is just crazy for us,” said Grunberg, “and for Masi especially. He’s such a good actor and too get this much recognition so quickly is fantastic.” He was referring to Masi Oka found himself getting a different kind of attention, surrounded by a bevy of beautiful babes wanting to know all about the show. Jeremy Irons was also there, clutching his globe and looking the model Mod Brit with his Nehru silk black jacket, smoking cigarettes and flirting with the ladies.
Chris “Ludacris” Bridges showed his sense of style, opting for a chic gray pinstriped Hugo Boss suit. “I was here last year because Crash was nominated so I had to wear a tux,” he explained. “I’m tux-less this year because I’m just going to the parties—besides I always need to be comfortable in my clothes.” Another hip-hop star-turned actor, Common, turned up to party with his boy Jeremy Piven, whom he bonded with while making the film Smokin’ Aces. Jeremy would not be partying until all hours, the Piv revealed: “I’m getting on a plane and flying to NY to so Saturday Night Live,” he said. “I’m so honored. It’s great—I’m such a fan of that show.”
But if Piven was the crown prince of the party, the reigning monarch at the bash was clearly Helen Mirren, having won two Globes for her magisterial turns in Elizabeth I and The Queen, sweeping regally into the party to load applause and cheers and the welcoming arms of her hubby, Ray director Taylor Hackford, whom she greeted with a big kiss.
The Sweet Life at InStyle
Godiva men greeted the attendees as they entered the InStyle/Warner Bros. party, the Globes’ perennial hot ticket bash, surrounded by counters of Godiva chocolate and gold Godiva boxes glued together into impressive pillared columns, which Adrian Grenier tried to playfully push down without much success. Inside, everything was chocolate, chocolate, chocolate—the pillars and lamps, tables all of chocolate-when you first walked in-a net of white jellyfish-tissue-billowing fabric gold netting-made the inside of the party to look like the inside of a Godiva box.
All the confectionary paradise needed to complete the picture was Johnny Depp in his Willie Wonka suit. Johnny didn’t make it to the party, but just about every other star in Hollywood…okay, except Sacha Baron Cohen and Isla Fisher who, despite having the ultimate Golden Ticket in Sacha’s trophy, were denied entrance by the fire marshal and forced to cool their heels at the drafty, unheated E!/Environmental Media Association party in a tent outside the Hilton, where the night’s entertainment, singer KC Tunstall apologized to the crowd for hitting sour notes on her guitar because her fingers were so frozen.
But we digress—back inside the Oasis Room, the mood of the Grey’s Anatomy cast brightened appreciably by the time the made their big splash at the InStyle party. Katherine Heigl kick up her heels—and the voluminous train of her Escada gown—on the dance floor to some funky retro disco beats, while one corner of the room was a magnet for heat-seeking eyeballs: Patrick Dempsey and Eric Dane chatted in the corner. That’s right, McDreamy and McSteamy together, in tuxes. Fortunately, Eric’s wife Rebecca Gayhart was on hand to stave off any over-amorous, over-served party guests.
As has become the norm at this bash there was a strong Desperate Housewives presence, even with Marcia Cross stuck at home on bed rest expecting twins. Teri Hatcher represented, as did Eva Longoria, flying solo without her fiancé Tony Parker (but flashing the engagement ring he designed for her to anyone who wanted to see it), while Nicolette Sheridan and her fiancé Michael Bolton came, canoodled and cruised quickly. Reprising their past InStyle performance, Felicity Huffman and her hubby William H. Macy spiced up the dance floor again this year—this time Felicity’s shoes stayed on.
Everywhere you looked, a famous face was partying it up. Flags of Our Fathers’ Adam Beach flew his freak flag, rocking out to “My Sharona” as interpreted by the Cowling Band, a 10-piece band that ignited the evening with rock, disco, jazz modern hits and 80s pop. Sean Combs cozied up alongside Sienna Miller, while Cameron Diaz strolled in early with Leonardo DiCaprio and stayed for over an hour, huddled up in a corner with her girl Drew Barrymore and Leo’s pal Djimon Hounsou. Suddenly there was the inevitable but electric moment when two exes crossed paths, and all heads turned to watch as Cameron chatted cordially with her former beau Justin Timberlake for about 15 minutes, and all seemed well with the world (for the moment). Upon Cam’s exit, Justin made himself the meat sandwiched between Eva Longoria and Sheryl Crow.
There other near awkward moments that were simply sidestepped: Chad Lowe strolled in with a date and John Stamos, just missing an encounter with his ex Hilary Swank and her boyfriend, who’d split the scene only moments before. And then there was Nicky Hilton, who carefully charted her orbit through the bash to avoid her own ex, Kevin Connolly.
Too Many Stars, Too Little Time
We only had time for a quick name check at the Fox party, where we spotted Globe-totin’ Forest Whitaker chatting up his good friend Kiefer Sutherland at the Fox party while both ate pizza and 24 gang held court. She’s such a great actress so we’ll never know, but we’d like to think Meryl Streep was sincerely being utterly, adorably humble while letting a never-ending stream of worshippers figuratively kiss her ring as she clutched her latest Golden Globe, the sixth that will adorn her mantle. The Little Miss Sunshine team also rolled through, including Greg Kinnear and Steve Carell. We also were ready to dash up to the roof of the parking lot for the NBC/Universal/Focus Features party, but long lines at the elevators and word that the arrival of Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner was gumming up the entry sent us scurrying across the lobby with a quick wave to the Macys, who were on their way home.
Sexy Exes and Excesses at Weinstein
Sienna Miller practically skipped into the party at the Hilton’s unfortunately soon-to-part tiki bar Trader Vic’s with Harvey Weinstein by her side. Who was she most excited to party with? “Harvey Weinstein!” she admitted. Miller sat by Weinstein, in his booth throughout the early part of the evening. No dancing, just a lot of talking shop, until Miller sparked thing up by barrowing a paparazzo’s camera and begin pretending to shoot photos inside the party.
Zach Braff declared himself “a loser” as he walked into the party—he declared his co-star Sarah Chalke “a loser,” too—and he playfully mimicked a photographer who teased him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name.”
Outside, former Laker great Rick Fox admitted he was chasing “a friend” around all night and was psyched to finally unite with them. He kept looking in Rosario Dawson’s direction, clearly giving us the international signal for “nudge, nudge, wink, wink, say no more.” Inside the party, the couple—he long free of his ex Vanessa Williams, she recently free of her ex Jason Lewis—looked cozy dancing up a storm to a medley of songs including “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails and “Give It Away” by Red Hot Chili Peppers. Together they practically shut down the party—just past midnight.
Dawson’s Grindhouse co-star Rose McGowan spent much of her evening chit chatting with their director Robert Rodriguez, while a plethora of the studio’s patented mid-budget horror hotties and a few Weinstein wannabes—like Michelle Trachtenberg, Kristin Bell and Paris Hilton—gawked at the “old pros” who’d also assembled, Sharon Stone, Geena Davis, and Greg Kinnear and sugared up Jamie Foxx. Mischa Barton attended with on again/off again boyfriend Cisco Adler, declining repeated pleas from photogs to pose together and instead spending most of the evening cozied up in a corner until Christian Slater busted in on them for some celeb-to-celeb chit-chat.
Closing Time
The next thing everyone knew it was after midnight, and the big stars had suddenly seemed to inexplicably vanish from the Beverly Hilton. What the A-listers didn’t want the B-listers to know was that they were all on the guest list for a top-secret party held just a few blocks away at the Beverly Wilshire hotel thrown by Golden Globe winner Prince…a bash that included a private concert by the Purple One in the hotel’s private Frobes penthouse suite, newly adorned with that glyph symbol he made famous.
Being neither A or B list (I think I top out somewhere around the letter G) I wasn’t on the invite list, but heard Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes were, along with their pals Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony and Leah Remini. Chris Rock was there, too, as were Demi Moore and stocking-capped Ashton Kutcher, Eva Longoria and her new BFF Victoria Beckham (paving the way for David’s much heralded arrival no doubt), a Blackberry-hypnotized Leonardo DiCaprio, Lindsay Lohan toting a glass of something, Penelope Cruz, Diddy, Drew Barrymore, Sienna Miller, Gabrielle Union and many more who got their Happy Feet on (Less happy may have been Cameron Diaz and Justin Timberlake, who encountered each other yet again—reportedly they’d clashed on their second encounter when Cam caught him chatting up Jessica Biel at another bash).
Taking a cue from me and Beyonce, J-Lo and Marc hit the local Mickey D’s (well, relatively local, as the 90210 zip code has no solid gold Golden Arches) after the party, while I tried to navigate my way out of the Beverly Hilton, congratulating Jorge Garcia and Yunjin Kim on their patience as seemingly every third person they encountered asked for a photo and they always smilingly obliged.
A very drunk lady crashed near my feet, nearly taking a heat lamp with her and cursing her husband for not keeping a tighter hold on her, and I kept missing my chance to jump on one of the shuttles back to my car. Fortunately, as Beyonce and J-Lo proved the stars ARE just like us, and Little Children star Jackie Earle Haley recognized me from a whirlwind of red carpets earlier in the week and came to my rescue, graciously offering to get me out of there in his limo.
Rendezvousing at nearby Dan Tana’s restaurant with some fellow journalists for the “post-game wrap up” and a last round of cocktails, I sat next to Paris and Nicky Hilton’s mom and dad Kathy and Rick, and their friend Jason Davis, whom I’d just chatted up only a few hours earlier at the HBO party. Kathy’s blouse had been drenched in diamonds, and she’d wisely stopped off to switch tops.
“It’s been a long time,” said Rick as they approached my table.
And the party never ends…
–Additional reporting by Leah Sydney, Kim Lansing and Lindzi Scharf
