Newman’s Own

I’ve never met Paul Newman. Ashamedly, I’m not even familiar with a whole lot of his work—at least not in his more youthful days. But last night I covered a tribute in his honor—an event that was planned even before his death, one in which he was slated to attend—and I’d say any guy who could get the likes of Julia Roberts, Tom Hanks, Jack Nicholson, Robin Wright and Sean Penn, Billy Crystal, Danny DeVito, Danny Glover, Annette Bening, Casey Affleck, Joaquin Phoenix, Bonnie Raitt, and more under one roof, not in NYC, not in LA, but in laid-back SAN FRANCISCO—is a pretty bad ass guy. I wish he’d hung around long enough for me to have met him, as well, at the event.

It’s not even that which is the touching part, but all of his philanthropic involvement, his activity in the civil rights movement, things he was always doing for others. This Hole in the Wall Gang he started in the 80′s was what the event was for last night, and it absolutely broke my heart when a handful of children with chronic illnesses got up on stage, hand-in-hand with the celebs (eye-to-eye with Danny DeVito, who is possibly the shortest man I have ever interviewed) and sang Put a Little Love In Your Heart to the strumming of Bonnie Raitt’s guitar. My cold heart melted right then and there. (Apologies for the crappy quality of this video. There was a “no cameras” rule so I was being stealthy, meaning no flash and shooting from my chest. Plus, the woman seated in front of me had an abnormally large head. Her momma weren’t no glass maker.)

But you all just want to the juicy bits, don’t you?

I was pretty stoked with the repertoire of talent being represented–I mean, wouldn’t you be? Of the aforementioned, I’d only ever encountered two: Bruce Willis (who was a jillion times nicer this go around than at the Die Hard prem at Radio City Music Hall last year) and Robin Wright Penn (I didn’t actually get to chat with her and Sean on this occasion, though I’ll be seeing them again tonight at his world premiere of Milk). I can say that in the thousands of celebrities I’ve encountered, I have only ever been struck speechless by two: Napoleon Dynamite (SO weird, I realize) and Julia Roberts. She was just absolutely stunning in person, even though she was rocking the jeans and shapeless maternity-like top (bump alert mayhaps? ’tis the rumor), and I all of a sudden found myself unable to formulate a coherent thought. So I just asked her about Newman and the event, because hello, they much prefer you ask them about what they’re actually there for than random gossip like most celeb weeklies demand. And you know what? Her response was “you know I have a performance and can only talk about Paul so much.” I was a little put off by her brusque demeanor, but whatever, it’s JULIA EFFING ROBERTS, so she can be brusque all she wants and I’ll still go see every movie she ever makes. Twice.

Tom Hanks, however, was the nicest guy in the whole wide world. I had to resist the urge to reach over and give him a big ole bear hug because he just silently screams HUG ME. While prepping with my editor earlier in the day, we thought his ‘do from Da Vinci Code and Angels & Demons would make a cute dot com item (remember the horror of the mullet from the original movie?!?), so here’s how the convo went:

TOM: Aww, look at the sad little print section. Only three of you! Come on, that’s all right—we don’t care about them (TV and radio). Because yours will go around the world faster than that with your websites and satellites. That’s adorable!

ME: Blah blah blah…Paul Newman…blah.

TOM: *raves about PN in typical hilarious yet endearing Tom fashion*

ME: Now on to more serious matters…please tell me they gave you a better haircut in Angels & Demons.

TOM: Oooh, so excited about it (says in a mock female voice). The haircut I’m wearing now, which is still a little bit long but not as long as the last movie.

ME: Did you have any idea your hair could cause such global buzz?

TOM: No, that’s what we set out to do. We wanted to cause pandemonium by way of my haircut. And I answered many questions, such as this: “What do you mean by the hair?” Literally, people would shout that with the microphones. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THE HAIR?”

ME: And how did you answer them?

TOM: I meant to have…I wouldn’t accept the premise of the question. Because believe it or not, my hair was not a statement!

ME: It looks significantly shorter.

TOM: You win! It is, it is!

ME: Well, it’s hard to make a hair statement as a guy.

TOM: All we said is, “how do you think his hair should be?” “Oh maybe a little long and then straighten it” and that evidently caused a worldwide sensation all across the cinematic world.

ME: How did Rita react?

TOM: Rita said, “I like your hair. I like your hair straight.” Because otherwise my hair is like, you know, a bush. It doesn’t grow out—it grows big!

While the whole event was centered around the actors doing a reading of Hemingway’s The World of Nick Adams, the performance itself was a bit of a bust, as they let freakin’ Casey Affleck play the titular role. In that pool of A-listers, why him??? Casey was flat, unenthused, and basically reinforced the point that he’s only famous thanks to his brother’s celebrity. Still, Julia and Rita as hookers, Bruce Willis as a drunk, Billy Crystal doing improv, and many more incidents made up for Affleck’s shortcomings.

Then there’s Danny Glover, who might just be my new second fave celeb, following Hanks. I didn’t get to talk to him on the carpet, but he was seated at the table behind me at the after party. My editor really wanted me to chat with him about J-Hud’s recent tragedy, and as much as I hate approaching those kind of subjects, I worked up the balls to approach him and ask if we could chat. He gave me a huge smile and asked if I was drinking Coke (I limit myself to one drink per working event, even though the lure of the free open bar is quite the temptation). I said it was Diet, he grabbed it from me and downed half the drink, then pulled up two chairs and offered one to me. We chatted about San Francisco, he told me about old politics of the Bay Area and how he still lives in the same modest house in Haight-Ashbury that he purchased for $62,000 when he was 28, in the same neighborhood since he was 10. Being a local, he seemed to know everyone at the party on a semi-personal level. Then, he went on and on about poor Jennifer and her family and how he called her over the weekend but only got to leave her a voicemail. (Side note: I’ve always wondered if celebrities have one massive universal Rolodex to get in touch with everyone else, if Tom Cruise, for example, has Cameron Diaz on speed dial, or if they all go through their “people” in order to reach one another. What do you think?) But a word to the wise: If ever you pass Glover in the street, guard your Diet Coke with your life.

***Oh yeah, I’m back from Central America, by the way, lest you think I got swept away by the horrible monsoon that has wreaked havoc on the entire nation and all but ruined our vacay. Once I get all my ducks in a row, I’ll flood you with posts about our romp through the swamp.