In conversation: Matt Damon

By Brian D. Johnson - Monday, March 7, 2011 at 9:53 AM - 4 Comments

Frederick M. Brown/Getty Images

Matt Damon was not among the Oscar nominees Sunday night, but he deserves an award for being one of Hollywood’s most trusted and likeable actors. He plays a straight-arrow U.S. marshal in the Coen brothers’ True Grit, which had 10 nominations, and lent his voice of credence to narrating the Wall Street exposé Inside Job, which won the Oscar for best documentary feature. Now, the star of the Bourne franchise is cast as a charming congressman who chases Emily Blunt through The Adjustment Bureau, a conspiracy thriller about a mysterious force that meddles with his romantic destiny. Damon is also one of Hollywood’s most engaged activists and charity advocates. He is married to Argentine-born Luciana Barroso.

Q: The Adjustment Bureau is the second coincidence-riddled romance you’ve made in the past year, following Clint Eastwood’s Hereafter. Do you believe that people are fated to be together?

A: I think it’s probably a coincidence. In terms of Hereafter, if Clint calls me up and offers me anything I’ll go do it. However, looking back on my life and the most significant things that have happened—how I met my wife was such a strange series of coincidences, and eight years and four kids later I kind of look at that and go, “Well, maybe.”

Q: How did you meet your wife?

A: She was bartending in Miami. I was choosing between two different movies, and I ultimately decided to do this Farrelly brothers movie, which was supposed to shoot in Hawaii and then it was moved at the last minute to Miami. During the shoot, a couple of the crew said, “Hey, we’re going to go out for a beer. Do you want to go?” At the last minute I went along. It happened to be her shift that night. I don’t know how else I ever would have bumped into her.

Q: Was it love at first sight?

A: Well, I feel like it was. I don’t know if that’s me revising the memory as I get older, imbuing it with all the subsequent emotion that I felt and all the experiences that we’ve had since then. I feel like if I’m honest, that there was a halo of light around her and I absolutely knew that moment had changed my life before I even spoke to her, but I honestly don’t know whether or not that’s revisionism.

Q: You play an honest politician in this film, and you play an honest suitor. I know you have played the odd liar—notably in The Informant!—but that seems to be casting against type. You’re very convincing at conveying that you’re a good, decent guy. What’s your secret?

A: It’s people’s perception. Some of the best roles of my career have been playing against that, you know? Like Ripley [in The Talented Mr. Ripley], that was one of the first great roles I got where a director [Anthony Minghella] was subverting an image. I guess I just come across as the guy who might be your next-door neighbour, but it’s been a real boon for me.

Q: Could you play a serial killer?

A: Of course. I don’t really have any kind of strategy that I’m trying to adhere to. It’s a one-off thing trying to choose movies, you look at the material that’s out there and the directors and take your best shot.

Q: There’s a difference between playing an honest character and giving an honest performance, which to me means submerging yourself in the character so we don’t notice the acting. You did it in True Grit, Hereafter, and in The Adjustment Bureau. But invisible acting doesn’t get recognized at Oscar time, as much as flashy acting. Do you agree?

A: Yeah. That’s something that actors talk about all the time. But look, your allegiance has to be to the work. I’ve come to believe that the best way, if we really wanted to try to give out awards, would be to wait at least a decade. There are films like Goodfellas, for instance, where if I’m flipping channels and I happen to bump into it, my afternoon’s gone because I’m going to sit there and watch it again. Luckily, I got that awards monkey off my back very young, so I’m not spending my career chasing that.

Q: You shared an Oscar for writing Good Will Hunting with Ben Affleck, and since then you’ve had two nominations for acting. Do you usually go to the Oscars?

A: No. I went the year Saving Private Ryan was nominated. If I’m in L.A. I’ll pull the tuxedo out of mothballs and put it on and go to the parties, because everybody’s out that night and it’s fun to see people. You just jump up, throw your monkey suit on and roll. When The Departed [was nominated] we were watching [the Oscars] on TV, and when Marty [Scorsese] won, my wife and I were just jumping up and down, and then when it won Best Picture I turned to Lucy and I said, “Oh, s–t, we should have gone to L.A.!”

Q: You turned 40 recently. How was that?

A: Actually, it felt really good. I wondered if I was going to have some weird kind of mid-life twang. I remember my dad turning 40 and my uncle turning 40 and them kind of freaking out a little bit and making fun of each other. I actually felt a great sense of calm. I felt lucky to have the family that I have and the wife that I have, and the job that I have, and I just kind of found myself wanting health and more of the same. I remember, in fact, Morgan Freeman, when I was doing Invictus interviews with him, we were sitting there and somebody said, “Oh, you’re going to turn 40 soon,” and he turned and he said, “You’re coming into the best two decades of your life.” I felt that was really cool.

Q: Do you work out a lot?

A: Not if I can help it. I’m doing a Neill Blomkamp movie—a sci-fi movie—this summer where it’s appropriate for the role. But after True Grit I had six months off and then I was working with [Steven] Soderbergh just playing an unemployed guy. It didn’t really require me to be in any kind of particular kind of shape, so I’ve been letting it slide.

Q: So you’ll do it for a role, but you’re not into honing yourself every day?

A: Not for vanity’s sake, no. In fact, the trainer I’m working with now is terrific, and what he talks about is health. I’m becoming far more interested in just functionality and making sure my body is as strong as it can be so I can swing my kids around and not worry about aches and pains. I often found, with some of the Hollywood workouts, they were superficially making me look a certain way but they weren’t making me feel any better.

Q: Do you do yoga?

A: I tried yoga, man, about seven years ago, and I just couldn’t hang with it. I gave it six good months. But the guy I’m working with now, flexibility’s a big part of what he does. Since I last did yoga, I haven’t been able to touch my toes, and I’m grabbing the soles of my feet again.

Q: I understand you turned down Avatar?

A: Well, I joke that I turned Avatar down; the reality is that my schedule made it impossible. I was desperate to work with Jim [Cameron]. Opportunities to work with him don’t come along very often and to be able to watch him direct, for somebody who wants to direct, it’s a very big deal. I do believe that the right actor gets the part. Gus [Van Sant] offered me Milk, the Josh Brolin role, but I had to bow out because I had Green Zone. Now I look at the movie and Josh was so great I go, “Okay, the right actor got the part.” The same thing happened with The Fighter. I was supposed to play Christian [Bale]‘s role and I look at that performance and go, “I mean, forget about it.” The right guy got the part.

Q: Ben Affleck and you are best friends. He’s done well as a director. Why not cast you?

A: Because he’s taking all the good roles! The next movie he’s doing is terrific, called Argo. There’s a great role at the centre of it that I would have begged him to do, but Ben took the role. It’s a true story of an operation during the Iranian Revolution. Six diplomats escaped from the American Embassy, and hid in the Canadian Embassy, and the Canadians risked their lives to shelter them, and so there was this whole thing about how do we get these guys out of Iran? Ben’s playing this CIA guy who would go into Iran and, with these six other people, pose as a Canadian film crew on a location scout [and] then fly out of the country all together. It was this unbelievably dangerous, audacious plan, and it worked.

Q: And you do want to direct?

A: I’m desperate to direct. My day job is going so well I just haven’t had time, and what little free time I have I spend with the kids. I’m just looking for a really wonderful thing to direct first time out, and hopefully it’ll come along soon.

Q: You are a pretty political animal, and in The Adjustment Bureau you play a politician well enough that I felt, “Jeez, I’d vote for that guy.” Any temptation to jump into the fray?

A: No, no, no. I’m really interested in politics—and I think we all should be—but I’m not at all interested in being a politician, it’s not a lifestyle that is at all attractive to me.

Q: Is it because there’s even a greater infringement on your privacy?

A: It looks to me like one long press junket, you know? The most exciting part of my job is all the problem solving that goes into making movies and all the collaboration and having a project that you’re all working on together.

Q: What is the secret to living a “normal life,” if there is such a thing, in this business?

A: I don’t know. I live in New York and so I don’t feel like I’m in the entertainment world most of the time. I leave this world to go to film sets, where it’s all about the work and there isn’t a lot of ego. When we’re in L.A. during awards season, that’s when it feels surreal. But it’s kind of fun because we’re like, “Did you see so-and-so?!” For those awards nights, we go out and just stargaze.

Year in pictures – Oscars

By macleans.ca - Thursday, December 23, 2010 at 12:00 PM - 0 Comments

Opening Weekend: Hereafter, RED, Stone, Nowhere Boy

By Brian D. Johnson - Friday, October 15, 2010 at 9:30 AM - 0 Comments

Bryce Dallas Howard and Matt Damon in Clint Eastwood's 'Hereafter'

Hallowe’en is still two weeks away, but there’s a lot of weird stuff going on at the movies this weekend. Matt Damon sees dead people in Hereafter, Helen Mirren fires a machine gun in RED, Robert De Niro goes mano-a-mano with Edward Norton in Stone, and John Lennon discovers his mother in Nowhere Boy. My favorite of these three movies happens to be the smallest—Nowhere Boy, which dramatizes a narrow but crucial slice of John Lennon’s life as troubled teen, just before the formation of the Beatles, when he’s torn between the aunt who raised him and the mother who abandoned him. The other films are loaded with Oscar-pedigree talent, but they’re a mixed bag:

Hereafter is a well-crafted curiosity. In this ruminative drama about life beyond the grave, Clint Eastwood flexes some metaphysical muscle and shows that, at the age of 80, an old dog can still learn some new tricks. The story, scripted by Peter Morgan (The Queen), interweaves stories of three unrelated characters in three countries, whose fates inevitably mesh in the final act—an American psychic trying to hide his powers from the world (Matt Damon), a French anchorwoman who survives a near-death experience in a tsunami (Cécile De France), and an English boy trying to contact his twin brother from beyond the grave. Whether or not this three-ply narrative works is debatable, but the film is highly watchable, luxuriously composed, and (aside from the spectacular scene of the tsunami) distinguished by its subdued tone, which marks a radical departure from the melodramatic torque of Eastwood’s recent movies. Next to RED, which exploits the novelty of geezers kicking ass, the thoughtful modesty of Hereafter, a movie by the granddad of ass-kicking geezers, seems refreshingly mature, if unsatisfying. For more on Eastwood’s movie, go to my story in this week’s magazine: Matt Damon sees dead people.

Helen Mirren in 'Red'

RED

Directed by Robert Schwentke (Flightplan, The Time Traveller’s Wife), Red is an action comedy about an eccentric crew of CIA retirees, and while there’s no question that it “works,” at least on its own terms, it struck me as an extravagant waste of time. Based on a cult graphic novel from DC Comics (is there no end to cult graphic novels?), it’s about a retired group of elite secret agents who are forced out of retirement when their former employer, the CIA, targets them for assassination. Apparently, they know too much. Led by a hard-core operative named Frank (Bruce Willis), they get the band back together, go on the run, and set about exposing a massive conspiracy. Along for the ride is an innocent civilian (Mary Louise Parker), who is taken hostage by the amorous Frank in a screwball scenario that resembles the one in Knight and Day.

For the movie’s troupe of serious actors (Helen Mirren, John Malkovich, Morgan Freeman, Mary Louise Parker, Rebecca Pidgeon) Red‘s blockbuster sandbox seems an excuse to goof off. They appear to be having a blast slumming with Bruce, chewing scenery and brandishing machine guns. Helen Mirren devours her role as an aging Mata Hari with evident relish—when you’re too old to be a Bond girl, Red must seem heaven-sent. And she’s by far the best thing in the movie. But the over-amped conceit of grumpy old spies soon wears thin. Malkovich is especially grating as a bug-eyed paranoiac. After over-acting his way through Secretariat as a preposterous Québécois speaking bogus French, this once lethal actor seems in danger of debasing his currency with compulsive mugging. And although his performance is beyond the pale, he’s emblematic of a syndrome that affects the entire cast. Each actor seems lost in his or her own movie, and they seem to be having more fun than the audience.

Continue…

Matt Damon sees dead people

By Brian D. Johnson - Friday, October 15, 2010 at 9:00 AM - 0 Comments

Ken Regan/Warner Bros. Entertainment

As an actor, Clint Eastwood made his name playing an angel of death, the iconic cop and laconic cowboy who would take grim pleasure in blowing the bad guys to kingdom come. But as a director in the twilight of his career, Hollywood’s elder statesman has now levelled his squinting gaze at what lies beyond. Eastwood’s latest film is a contemplative drama about the mystery of the afterlife, but the greater puzzle is the existence of the movie itself. Hereafter marks a bizarre departure for the 80-year-old filmmaker—and also for Matt Damon, who stars as a closet clairvoyant, and screenwriter Peter Morgan, who strays far from the historical fare of The Queen and Frost/Nixon to create fiction that requires us to believe Damon sees dead people.

But Hereafter has little in common with M. Night Shyamalan’s The Sixth Sense. It takes a modest approach to metaphysics, with no mind-bending plot twists, and after some early scenes of harrowing action, it settles into a remarkably understated drama.

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Matt Damon and Clint Eastwood: Race, death, and Hereafter

By Tom Henheffer - Tuesday, September 14, 2010 at 1:30 PM - 0 Comments

Hereafter is an unusual film for Clint Eastwood. It’s a paranormal drama about people in three different places around the world who are forced to come to terms with mortality, a real departure from his more down-to-earth stories examining themes like politics, race and aging. Matt Damon plays a blue-collar worker and reluctant psychic who can speak to the dead, but hates his strange ability. It’s his second film with Eastwood, the first being 2009′s Invictus, where he played the captain of the South African Rugby team in the World Cup following the dismantling of apartheid.  Damon and Eastwood spoke to Maclean’s on the red carpet at Hereafter‘s premiere, and spoke about how the film asks life’s most difficult question, what happens after we die?

Opening Weekend: Matt Damon is Bourne again in 'Green Zone'

By Brian D. Johnson - Friday, March 12, 2010 at 9:34 AM - 3 Comments

Matt Damon in 'Green Zone'

Two boyish stars, two boffo franchises. Matt Damon is Jason Bourne in the Bourne trilogy; Robert Pattinson is Edward Cullen in the Twilight series. This week both are starring in new movies, and hope to drag their fans with them. With Bourne director Paul Greengrass at the helm, Damon dons Army fatigues in Green Zone, a kinetic thriller about conspiracy and cover-up in Baghdad after the 2003 U.S. invasion. It’s a movie on a political mission, but with its Cuisinart editing style, it plays like a Bourne adventure in military dress. In Remember Me, Pattinson loses the Goth make-up and amber contacts, and appears to play his shambling, self-deprecating self as a rebel without a cause. This earnest romance secretly wants to be a romantic comedy. It’s vampire-free, but still sticky with sentiment and contrived pathos. Pattinson and his vivacious co-star, Emilie de Ravin, generate some sparks , but the saddest thing about this tragedy is watching talented actors being slowly suffocated by a mediocre script. For more on Remember Me and the curious dilemma of its star, see my article in this week’s magazine: Someone rescue Robert Pattinson.

As for Green Zone, it’s a slickly made picture that’s hobbled by a double agenda. There’s no question that Paul Greengrass is a brilliant director of lean political dramas that have the authentic smack of documentaries, films like Bloody Sunday and United 93. There’s also no question that Greengrass is expert at crafting blockbuster thrill rides of escapist entertainment, i.e. the Bourne movies. With Green Zone, he tries to do both at once, which would seem like a natural impulse, an attempt to reconcile his worlds, but the result is unsatisfying as a political drama and an escapist thriller.

A convoluted script makes the plot almost as hard to follow as the manic camerawork. But behind all the smoke and mirrors, it’s pretty straightforward. Our straight-arrow hero is U.S. Army Chief Warrant Officer Roy Miller (Damon), whose team is searching for the proverbial Weapons of Mass Destruction in the chaotic early days of the American occupation. As alleged sites keep turning up empty, he begins to wonder why the intelligence is so lousy. Gradually, Miller’s naivete gives way to suspicion as he sniffs out a conspiracy. And his mission changes, from searching for weapons to searching for truth. An Iraqi informant leads him to an enclave of Baathist leaders, and a general who may have the evidence he’s looking for. Meanwhile, as Miller goes rogue, he ends up at war with his own people, a cabal led an evil Defense Intelligence agent (Greg Kinnear) and an even more evil Special Forces operative with a biker moustache (Jason Isaacs). The puppet press, which spread the fake WMD info, is represented by a Wall Street Journal reporter (Amy Adams), and the guy with all the answers is a CIA station chief (Brendan Gleeson), who’s right out of a Graham Greene novel. Continue…

Opening Weekend: Shape shifting with Megan Fox and Matt Damon

By Brian D. Johnson - Friday, September 18, 2009 at 11:54 AM - 3 Comments

Jennifer's Body

Jennifer’s Body: Written by Diablo Cody (Juno), and starring Megan Fox as —who acts like Angelina Jolie in her Billy Bob Thornton phase—Jennifer’s Body throws a feminist kink into the old blonde/brunette, saint/slut high-school horror movie formula. Evil arrives in the form of an indie rock band called Low Shoulder, which comes to the town of Kettle Falls and commits a cult murder to achieve stardom. Fox is, well, a fox, and teenage boys all over North America will be trying to sneak in under the film’s R rating to drool over her. The sex is strictly soft-core (no nudity, boys). But there’s a long, lingering lesbian kiss, framed in profile as extreme-close-up, between Fox and co-star Amanda Seyfried. And while Fox devours her flesh-eating role with great gusto, Seyfried’s performance is the film’s revelation. She plays the good-girl heroine opposite Fox’s carnal cannibal. But in a modern twist on the formula, this sweet blond is far from virginal. She knows her way around a condom, and may even be having more sex than the bad girl. Seyfried also stars in Atom Egoyan’s Chloe, where she gives a dynamite performance in a shape-shifting role as a hooker that allows her to demonstrate remarkable range. Continue…

Masters of the universe in free fall

By Brian D. Johnson - Thursday, September 17, 2009 at 3:20 PM - 0 Comments

You forget you’re watching Matt Damon. He’s playing a spy. But with a dorky moustache, a toupée and an extra 20 lb. puffing out his features, there’s no trace of the dynamic secret agent from the Bourne franchise. In Steven Soderbergh’s The Informant!, an off-kilter comedy based on a true story of corporate corruption, Damon plays Mark Whitacre, an agri-biz honcho who became the highest-ranking whistle-blower in U.S. history during the late ’90s. But unlike most whistle-blowers—such as the one in The Insider or Soderbergh’s own Erin Brockovich—he is no straight-arrow hero. Far from it. While spending years wearing a wire to help the FBI expose a price-fixing conspiracy, Whitacre spins an elaborate web of lies, and embezzles millions from the company he was ratting on.

Premiering at the Toronto International Film Festival (Sept. 10-19) and opening commercially next week, The Informant! is one of a new breed of movies about men of influence in dire straits who invent their own cracked ethical code. Each year, TIFF showcases the fall line of serious films that vie for Oscar glory, pictures that presume to tell us something about the human condition. And whether by accident or design, many of this year’s most prominent titles reflect a new fashion in heroism that seems tailor-made for the recession: moral bankruptcy.

The new Hollywood hero is a high-flying master of the universe who’s losing altitude as fast as the ground vanishes beneath his feet. He’s a liar, a fraud, a womanizer, a drug addict, a nutcase, or all of the above. He’s Michael Douglas as a disgraced car magnate with a wrecked marriage and a runaway libido in Solitary Man. He’s David Duchovny as the head of a model family that turns out to be an utter sham in The Joneses. He’s Nicolas Cage as a crack-smoking cop who hallucinates reptiles in Werner Herzog’s Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans. Or Peter Sarsgaard as a smooth con artist who seduces a 16-year-old English schoolgirl in An Education, soliciting her father as a gullible accomplice. Or Ricky Gervais as a screenwriter who discovers the marvel of dishonesty in The Invention of Lying—a comedy set in a world where everyone tells the truth.

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Megapundit: Begin the wooing of Frank McKenna

By selley - Tuesday, October 21, 2008 at 1:51 PM - 19 Comments

Must-reads: None. Okay, maybe James Travers.

Did somebody order a hero?
It will take more than bellyfire to lead the Liberal party.

Stéphane Dion’s decision to stay on pending a leadership convention is “a gobsmackingly bad move,” Don Martin declares in the Calgary Herald, predicting he’ll make an easy target for “gloating Conservatives across the Commons aisle while economic issues, which are hardly his forte, dominate parliamentary debate.” Dion may finally realize that “federal politics makes mincemeat of honest, high-road sincerity,” but he doesn’t yet seem to accept his own culpability in the Liberal collapse, says Martin. Given two years to “invigorate the Liberal fundraising operation,” “gel with his caucus and install a solid staff organization,” and “frame the Liberals in the centre with rational mainstream policies,” he did none of those things. The idea that he could help them do so as a “lameduck loser” is, therefore, laughable.

The Montreal Gazette‘s Don Macpherson speculates that Dion may be hanging on in anticipation of pulling a Trudeau—i.e., announcing his impending departure, engineering the defeat of the government and then marching to an improbable victory in the 41st general election. If that is indeed his intention, Macpherson advises he be disavowed of it at the party’s earliest convenience. His caucus has neither the money nor the patience to brook such shenanigans, and the various contenders for the crown—Macpherson has Michael Ignatieff as the favourite—would surely lead their troops in revolt.

Continue…

Going hungry with Che

By Brian D. Johnson - Wednesday, May 21, 2008 at 8:10 PM - 0 Comments

Slept in for a change. The Cannes programmers gave us a break today, clearing out the schedule to leave our palates fresh for this evening’s premiere of Che, Steven Soderbergh’s four-hour-plus epic about Che Guevara. For once it was sunny. I was tempted to hit the beach, and almost did. But dark rooms exert an addictive pull in this place, along with the fear of missing something unmissable. So this afternoon I caught the final market screening of Hunger, which opened the Un Certain Regard sidebar last week. It’s a much-buzzed feature debut from British visual artist Steve McQueen (you think he’d at least call himself Steven to avoid confusion with the dead actor on IMDB.)

Hunger is a tough film, highly graphic drama about the 1981 IRA hunger strike in Northern Ireland’s Maze Prison. It begins with a no-wash strike—a harrowing, maggot-ridden ordeal of prisoners wearing nothing but overgrown beards who are beaten and tortured in cells while they smear the walls with their own waste. (Yet another example of the bizarre sanitation theme that flows like an open sewer through this year’s Cannes program). The filth and torture sequences, which are almost wordless, are followed by a long, uncut stretch of staccato dialogue between IRA militant Bobby Sands and a priest trying to talk him out of the hunger strike. That scene is a theatrical tour de force. Then we come to the hunger strike itself. It transpires as an ethereal trip into a palliative afterlife, featuring actors with gaping sores who are so alarmingly skinny they could teach the cast of Schindler’s List a thing or two about dieting.

But I had to leave Hunger before the end. I was famished, and desperate to pick up a slice of quiche to-go before heading into Che marathon.

Starring Benicio Del Toro, Che was presented in two parts, two separate movies really, with a 15-minute intermission. The dialogue is almost all in Spanish, with English subtitles. The first part plays like a war movie, and traces Che’s guerrilla campaign through the jungles of Cuba, intercut with black-and-white re-enactments of his visit to the United Nations in N.Y. The second part plays like a thriller, and follows his disintegrating campaign in Bolivia up to his death, another saga of starvation and sickness. It’s hard to imagine either part working without the other. They’re a matched set of victory and defeat, an ascent to revolutionary heaven followed by the descent into hell. The story of defeat is more compelling.

At half time, the lobby was littered with little shopping bags marked CHE, each containing a bottle of water and half a sandwich consisting off a flattened leaf of lettuce and virtually nothing else between slices of squished white bread. An attempt to simulate jungle rations?

A few observations on Che:

• Soderbergh goes so far out of his way not to make a conventional Hollywood biopic that he offers not a shred of personal back story, or front story. Just meticulous history and warfare.

• No one has sex of any sort, or even talks about it, during the entire four hours—except a deserter who rapes a peasant girl off screen. But the men smoke a lot of cigars.

• About an hour a three quarters into the movie, it’s casually mentioned that Che has a wife and daughter in Mexico; moments before his death in the second movie he mentions that he has five children. That’s all we ever hear of them.

• There are virtually no close-ups in either movie. It’s hard to find Benicio Del Toro’s eyes. Everyone has overgrown beards, and things can get confusing.

• For no apparent reason, except to provoke a titter of recognition, Matt Damon pops up in a cameo, speaking Spanish.

• Che is a severe asthmatic. At one point, as he lies gasping from breath in the Bolivian jungle, he says, “All of us have made mistakes but I made the worst mistake when I didn’t bring my medicine along.” So if he’d taken a puffer into the jungle, instead of cigars, could that have turned the tide of history? Clearly he would have been better off making revolution in a desert climate.

• Che’s screenwriter is Peter Buchman, whose previous major credit is a jungle tale of a different colour— Jurassic Park III

I don’t have any video from my own camera today, but here’s some official footage of what was happening at Che‘s red carpet premiere:

Photo Gallery: Toronto Film Festival 2007

By Jeff Harris - Friday, September 14, 2007 at 5:23 PM - 0 Comments

The stars just seem to shine brighter north of the border. Exclusive pictures of celebrities on the red carpet and in their own habitat (aka hotel rooms) at the 2007 Toronto Film Festival. Check out Matt Damon, Jennifer Garner, George Clooney and Brad Pitt — erm, with an itchy nose.

Click here for exclusive photo gallery.