The Crosby St. Hotel in New York offers a lot to those looking to host an event. It boasts its own private screening room, an excellent staff, attractive surroundings and even a lit-from-within papier-mâché boar in the entryway. Despite all this, the mood at Thursday night’s Cinema Society-sponsored screening of “Source Code” and subsequent after party was decidedly downbeat. Perhaps it was the week, which had been long and eventful, or the weather, which was drippy and cold (even for March), or the guest list, which hosted unexpected arrivals like Lindsay “Just Lindsay” Lohan, who lurked near the red carpet before the film began and bolted immediately after it ended, shielding her face with one hand in the manner of stars of yore, like Grace Kelly or Jackie Onassis. Perhaps it was the weight of more pressing issues in the world. Jake Gyllenhaal, one of the film’s leads, repeatedly referenced the recent earthquake disasters in Japan when speaking to press. “It’s just hard to do this type of thing, knowing what’s going on in Japan,” Gyllenhaal explained, before leaving the red carpet to introduce his most recent blockbuster.
Not everyone let current events get them down, as the hotel’s subterranean level filled with revelers eager for the Coach-sponsored after party, among them: Howard and Beth Stern, Jesse Tyler Ferguson, Seth Meyers, Rufus Wainwright, Pablo Schreiber, Lorenzo Martone and John Demsey. The stars of “Source Code” were present and accounted for, with the heavily lusted-after Gyllenhaal (“He is impossibly cute,” one partygoer squealed, midselection of a bite-size Kobe beef slider from a passed tray. “He just has that guttural-sound-provoking movie-star quality: Oomph!”) posing with co-stars Michelle Monaghan (in a teal Roksanda Ilinic cocktail dress) and Jeffrey Wright. Jon Kortajarena caused a stir with his cheekbones, as is his wont, but left the party with a female friend within the first hour.
Due to the layout of the space and the seemingly unshakable human tendency to gravitate toward those with bold-faced names, partygoers clustered and clotted around armchairs, couches and protruding wooden shelves of tea lights, creating a sort of party gridlock/human-moat around Monaghan and Gyllenhaal. Cynthia Rowley and Bill Powers, who had been to a Marilyn Minter exhibition earlier that evening, sensibly spent most of the party in the more sparsely populated bar area. “I loved the movie,” Rowley enthused, “but then again, Jake [Gyllenhaal] saved my hometown [Chicago], and I’m a sucker for that…so I was happy.” Albert Hammond Jr. did a quick tour around the ’do, dodging aforementioned furniture and fan-girls alike before trading phone numbers with Gina Gershon and making way for the exit. Russell Simmons had a tête-à-tête with John Varvatos near a late-arriving James Marsden, who made a beeline through the crowd for Karen Elson, grabbing her shoulders and crying aloud in a campy tone: “It’s Karen!”
In the deluge on the street outside, “RadioMan” Craig Schwartz (a highly recognizable hanger-on on Manhattan film and television sets) wondered aloud about some of the revelers. “That Lohan girl wouldn’t take a picture with me,” Schwartz complained. “So why’d she come to this damn thing?”