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I was at a Soderburgh one, in LA, for The Good German, kinda insufferable, because a) almost everyone wanted to do his job b) everyone was kissing his ass as they asked questions.

The only interesting thing was that in spite of the work being credited to a different name he was his own DP
 
Was at one once (it was the Whannell one) and someone down the very front asked some question that was so involved - the guy was clearly a super fan - that everyone started groaning. And then referencing him in further questions "I won't take as long as that first guy" etc. to much laughs.

When we went to leave, only then could we see that he was in a wheelchair. A super one. Like not quite Stephen Hawking, but not a million miles away - like he could still talk and stuff.
So he had his moment in front of his favourite directors and got to show them how much he adored their work, and that whole audience took one massive fucking shit on it.
Fucking hell.

I probably told this before but my friend who works in the IFI had to hold the mic for questions for Crispin Glover who is famously an horrific interviewee. Anyway this auld one gets up and goes "I don't have a question but I have written a poem..." and proceeds to recite at length something which could only have been her own original work!
 

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