The next film I saw, Tale of Cinema, was a painful Korean puzzlebox. I guess, the idea here, was that one filmmaker had made a film about two young people, and another (less successful) filmmaker believed that a lot of the details had been stolen from his life. Interesting idea. The problem is that the "film-within-a-film" part was such a laborious adolescent angst-fest that I fell asleep. I missed the transition to "normal reality," but when I did wake up I realized it had switched over and I found that the adult characters were so awkward, overly dramatic, and unlikable that it really wasn't much better. In fact, this film put me in such a bad mood that I called one of my friends afterwards and had an entire conversation in which I acted like an asshole before I realized what was bothering me.
After I figured out why I was in such a bad mood, but before I left the area, stars started to arrive for the "centerpiece" film, Breakfast on Pluto. I didn't get to see it, but apparently Cillian Murphy plays a young Irish man who moves to London in the 1960s to become "a fabulously attired transvestite cabaret chanteuse." Cillian, Liam Neeson, and Stephen Rhea were all there, along with director Neil Jordan. I snapped this picture of Cillian right before he entered the... well, it was a little more like a snake pit than a red carpet (especially considering that there was no carpet). If you've ever seen that SNL sketch where the photographers yell obnoxious things at the celebrities, it was a lot like that.P.S. I later saw Breakfast on Pluto and I loved it!