When the lights dim...

I used to wonder about these Hollywood stars who pitch up for their premieres at Leicester Square's famous Odeon, sign autographs for the shivering masses, and disappear inside to watch their film. Except they don't - they're shown quickly out of a side entrance into a car and spirited off to the Met Bar / Battersea Power Station / premiere party venue du jour. Is this acceptable? If you're a lucky competition winner who's spent your savings on a nice dress for your chance to sit near Jake Gyllenhaal at his own premiere, wouldn't you be deflated to find his seat empty when the lights go up? (*)

I always thought they were just being rude, until The Gigolos promotional tour. Having watched the film at several stages during its assembly, and since then at a number of investor, press and festival screenings, I'm not sure I can watch it any more. I'm not sure I could watch any film any more than 15 times. I've only seen The Godfather about 8 times. Maybe Groundhog Day a few more than that, and Teen Wolf, obviously. But there's something very odd about watching yourself on screen for thousands of minutes. Not odd - immoral.

But you're happy that other people are coming to watch it, for the first time, and you're happy to be invited to answer questions about the production afterwards. So what do you do? Sacha and I nipped off the pub for half an hour in the middle. And sat there racked with guilt, downing our beers at dribbleneck speed, checking our watches every 10 seconds. We raced back to make sure we didn't miss the last 45 minutes, thought about leaving again, and gave in to the comfy seats.

Suggestions?

(* A gratifying exception was watching The World's Fastest Indian at a festival in the USA. The lights went up, and the host introduced a special guest in the audience - the film's star Anthony Hopkins, who stood up in the row behind me. Glad we weren't watching Hannibal.)