Aword of advice to all you party-lovers: never wear high heels to a King's Cross venue. Vertigo-inducing silver sandals were not a wise choice for the FilmFour launch, held in one of those cavernous concrete clubs. The entrance was worthy of a Krypton Factor obstacle course. First one had to negotiate a strobe-lit corridor (staggering in bright light is difficult enough; under flashing lights it's impossible) only to be confronted by a gravel path. I half-expected Gordon Kay to hand out medals at the end.
However, the trauma was worth it as we emerged into an ante-room dotted with marvellous installations. (They looked rather like giant pop socks - is this the latest in knee-high chic?) The vodka cocktails flowed all night and glamorous people poured from one room to another. There was a "Naked" room where exotic dancers made Dirty Dancing look like Mary Poppins. There were even steamier scenes from forthcoming FilmFour delights on a big screen, and I must admit boogying to Joan Jett while watching art-porn is quite an experience.
Feeling a little peckish, we stumbled into the Pulp Fiction-style burger bar, complete with shoot-out victims playing dead, and finally hit upon a sort of microchip disco room where who should we find but the magnanimous Mr Jonathan Ross. "I'm here with my friends Adam and Joe," he revealed, before discussing our mutual friend, the lovely Ms Cerys Matthews who had once distracted him with her exploding nipples. Apparently, it was something to do with a cold TV studio.
We spotted rising talent Rufus Sewell, who told us he'd just come back from filming in Papua New Guinea and was about to begin a run on the London stage as Macbeth. Should be a hoot! And rumour had it that Ewan MacGregor and Jude Law were in the throng but they were impossible to notice. We played "spot the real Ewan and Jude" but to no effect. There were so many lookalikes that we gave up and went to the bar. And who should we find there but George Wendt, current star of Art and ex-Cheers hero, Norm. Perhaps it was the lack of Sam the Barman, or a non-Boston atmosphere, but the dear man looked terrified. "Are you in the queue?" I enquired politely, but he just stared back, shook his head and looked dumbstruck. Perhaps it was the shoes.
There were no such shenanigans at the launch of The Gate theatre's new season, staged at Pharmacy (re-named Army Chap) and attended by such luminaries as The Royal Court's Stephen Daldry. My companion for the evening was the lively young actress Miss Glenna Morrison, whose mission was to imbibe as many exotic-looking cocktails as the head barman could muster. Needless to say we ended up in a W11 local with artistic director Mick Gordon regaling us with stories of his Beavers days (a sort of pre- Cubs group). A merry night was had by all.
The Electricity Showrooms in Hoxton Square, Shoreditch, is an interior designer's dream; rather like stepping into the pages of Wallpaper*. The decor is desperately minimal (think Seventies council flat chic) and everyone wears black. The cool hotspot was celebrating the opening of the downstairs bar with its extended license and an array of Friday night DJs. Be there and be Hoxton Square.
Hero Brown is back next week.
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