Schmoozing on Wheels
Tamara Beckwith, British It-girl, laced up her glittery roller skates while nearby, Dominique Swain, with skates and little pulsing lights in her hair, posed for photographers. Swain entered the cleared wooden floor of the Hollywood Palladium, a little unsteady at first, and joined the crowd of gliding (or wobbling) young ICM agents, designers, actresses, publicists, starlets, cross dressers and at least one architect who sashayed under the lights on a recent evening.
Carrie Grace, a 26-year-old costume stylist, worried she had committed the ultimate faux pas by bringing her own vintage skates to “Roller Disco--Moroccan Style,” a party intended to promote a new line of Skechers skates designed by Tracey Ross.
Invitations had asked people to RSVP with their shoe sizes, and every guest got a free pair of the new skates.
“I didn’t know it was going to be such a scene,” said Grace, surveying the crowd. “Ooooh,” she said, eyeing the bars, “the cocktails add another element.” She thought for a moment. “Adult skating,” she said, before excusing herself to join the several dozen people skating to old Prince and Michael Jackson tunes.
Some skaters had Venice Beach credentials, as evidenced by their ability to skate, talk and drink at the same time. Others wobbled to the bar and stayed put.
Robert Montalbano, a 35-year-old screenwriter, rested on pillows at a bar in the center of the rink while reminiscing about the early ‘80s, when he would go to the roller rink as a teenager.
Ah, the dates, the skates, “Midnight at the Oasis.” This brought back memories, said Montalbano with a little sigh. “The music, the wind in your hair and you’re gliding,” he said. “It’s the only time it’s OK to be goofy in L.A.”
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‘Lady Killers’: Day 18 of Shooting
It’s day 18 of a five-week shoot of “Lady Killers,” a slapstick comedy, and people are hovering around an enormous brick house in a well-manicured neighborhood near downtown Los Angeles.
Assistant director Frank Caridi, the most visible of the group, primarily because he wears red, rarely stops moving and periodically barks commands. “OK! Here we go!” he shouts for the third time in five minutes. If the crew responds, it is imperceptible. They’re accustomed to waiting.
The set is a 100-year-old former convent, complete with elaborate stained-glass windows, and owner Gretta von Steinbauer has rented the place to film crews so frequently during the last three years she can’t recall every one.
It’s warm enough out to wear shorts, but, inside, a fire rages in the fireplace. For this film, the room is dressed to depict the dusty old mansion of a former war hero with a velvet loveseat and animal heads mounted above the fireplace.
Director Gary Preisler stands in the middle of the crowded den running lines with the actors. The plot: Two money-hungry 20-year-olds marry two 70-year-olds in the hopes of inheriting their wealth. They learn later that the women are penniless con artists looking for two young dummies to murder for insurance money. It’s an independent production and Preisler’s debut as a director.
In this scene, Will Friedle, Chris Owen, Louise Lasser and Renee Taylor are creeping in to shoot the boys’ miserly uncle, portrayed by Rudy DeLuca. They don’t realize he’s already dead. “All right!” Caridi shouts again. “Here we come! Ready, set!”
Preisler takes his place behind a monitor. “Hold to roll,” he shouts. Everyone ceases talking and moving. “Aaannndd action!” Immediately, there’s a technical problem. “Cut!” The crew resets quickly for take two. The scene falls flat. They set up for take three. Preisler is once again behind the monitor and calls action. The scene’s comedy is working. The crew is laughing. Preisler is nodding his head. This one is a keeper. “Cut!” he shouts. “That is hilarious!”
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Sightings
Robert Downey Jr. at Gold’s Gym in Venice Saturday morning, doing chest presses and backbends.
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