Brad Pitt throws a pencil at my head

500-Weeks #003

Brad Pitt takes centre stage at the 1997 Toronto International Film Festival.
Photo © 1997 by Steven Lungley

Each year’s Toronto International Film Festival gets judged by different criteria, depending on who you’re talking to. For attendees, the quality of the films they managed to see in any particular year is very important. For local residents, the increase in traffic troubles they can attribute to the Festival invading the downtown core colours their thoughts. For the local media, the fame level of the performers in attendance is always a big deal.

Based on the last measure, 1997 was a great year, as one of the most famous actor’s in the world – Brad Pitt – was dropping in to promote “Seven Years in Tibet”, that year’s closing night film. This was the kind of serious film that gets into the public consciousness through film festivals, and just about everyone involved comes along to hype their effort. Even serious films need to sell tickets. In the pre-internet world, attention was drawn to a movie by getting the media interested, and the media loves movie stars.

Enter Brad Pitt, as big a star as ever there was.

Brad Pitt stands out at the Toronto International Film Festival. Photo © 1997 by Steven Lungley

Working for a local, weekly newspaper I was never going to be given one-on-one access for a photo shoot with Mr. Pitt, but I could attend the press conference. While many photographers don’t like working press conferences, I thought they were fine. Hanging out with the other members of the media was always interesting, plus it was a way of getting in front of the biggest names in the business.

My approach to press conferences was to think of them as a form of wildlife photography. The photographer has no control of the situation or the subject. You can only stand in your spot behind the barrier, aim your camera on the subject and react to their actions, hoping to get a good image if it presents itself. 

A good rule of thumb is to keep taking pictures until you feel you’ve captured at least three great photos. One of the three is bound to be a keeper. These were all film-based photos, which only allowed 36 exposures per roll and provided no chance to check the photo until it came back from the lab. Film and processing was an expense. Every freelancer was conscious of cash spent vs. dollars earned. Violate that too much and you were losing money.

Unless you are the woman to my right at the “Seven Years in Tibet” press conference.

Let me set the scene: A small conference room, with chrome stanchions and a red velvet rope cutting the room in two. On the larger side of the divide are multiple rows of folding chairs, which is where the reporters sit. Behind the chairs, TV crews have set up video cameras on tripods. On the smaller side of the divide are two tables set up on risers, covered in white tablecloths, with microphones on top for the interview subjects. Standing at the rope are the accredited still photographers, eyes aimed at the door on the right side of the room. At the appropriate time, the door opens, the guests are ushered in and the flashes and yelling begins: “Brad!” “Brad, over here!” “Brad!” “Brad!”

Modern camera flashes do not actually make a noise, but they do make a high-pitched squeal as they re-charge after every photo, and camera motor drives make distinct sounds. I’m in the middle of it all, probably 20 photographers in total and it is easy to spot the pros vs. the rookies. The pros shoot specifically, waiting for a glance their way. The rookies just keep mashing the shutter button, no matter what is in front of them.

Jean-Jacques Annaud – the film’s director, Mr. Pitt and David Thewlis, his costar, along with a couple of others involved in the film take their spots behind the table and remain standing while some group photos are taken.  They then sit down, the questions from the media begin and the photography slows down.

A lot of the questions are being directed to and being answered by Mr. Annaud. While he talks, Mr. Pitt frequently has his head face down, seemingly looking at the table. At one point he gets asked a question, finds it amusing, looks straight up and flashes that famous smile. BAM! Instantly, a dozen camera flashes fire from all the photographers who were paying attention. Mr. Pitt, pushes back in his chair while exclaiming “whoooaaah!” as he recovers from the blinding light. I was one of those photographers, and believing that I had a great shot, I dropped my attention a little. As did some of the other photographers.

Brad Pitt smiles at the Toronto International Film Festival and multiple camera flashes go off at the same time.
Photo © 1997 by Steven Lungley

The woman on my right, however, never let up. Flash! Flash! Flash! No more film? I could hear the whirr of her motor drive as the film is rewinding. She changes to a new roll of film and starts again. Flash! Flash! Flash! Even when Mr. Pitt has his head down, she would not let up. At some point I had my eyes looking down as I was checking the number of frames left on my roll of film.

At this point, Mr. Pitt had apparently had enough. I suddenly heard him, saying - loudly and forcefully in my direction - “Would you.. stop it!” I look up just in time to get hit in the head with a pencil thrown by Brad Pitt. The pencil hit me – hard - in the middle of the forehead. I’m stunned, as Mr. Pitt says to me “Not you dude, her!” (He spoke to me!) Her response? “I can’t help myself!”

For years afterwards I had a little spider vein in my forehead where the pencil hit. I sometimes referred to as my Pitt Spot and actually sought out medical attention on how to get rid of it.  I was told it was not medically necessary, so health insurance was not going to cover it. I even went to a plastic surgeon, who took a quick look and estimated it cost approximately $1,000.00 to make it go away. I didn’t have the cash, and forgot about it. Eventually it faded away.

It has made for an excellent story at multiple parties every since.

Technical stuff: Camera: 35mm Nikon FM2 with Tamron SP 70-150MM f/2.8 Model 51 lens using Fujifilm Fujicolor Press 800 colour negative film and Vivitar 285HV on-camera flash powered with a Lumidyne mini-cycler.