You know the party is over when even a B-list Guelph-born actress has decided not to show for one of her movie's galas. That's right, Neve Campbell whose last major movie appearances were Scream 3 and When Will I be Loved, has better things to do than hang out in Toronto. My task for today was to write a homegrown homage of the beloved Neve, but when the camera call came down, she wasn't on the list. By mid-day, my tiffed-out blackberry sputtered and refused to transmit.
Changing gears, I traversed the three hotels of Yorkville, passing a trio of Hare Krishnas on Cumberland, seeking the celebrity swag lounges--only to find that they had been packed up and cleared out yesterday. Only a handful of publicists are left, finishing the last of the sponsored ice cream and Red Bull and, I suspect, huddling in corners when nobody's watching.
Fewer than a dozen people were left standing at the Intercontinental, none of them teenage girls. Patrick, from Ohio, who related the fact that he advertised his timeshare with the Globe but received no calls, had been waiting for an autograph for about four hours. He travelled here for the festival, was wearing a jacket with a red and white maple-leaf collar and carrying a clipboard containing the glossy photos of Christopher Plummer and Kevin Bacon. The names of stars had been written in blue ink, numbered and circled.
Patrick had seen no one.
The weather has turned in Yorkville. There's one more star to see and another stunt to try but the end of Tiff is nigh and soon it will be time for this blog to make like a Chinese toy executive and end itself before the government clues in.