New York Times

Leo, please take it all in stride

by Barry Koltnow

On a cool, clear night in August 1996, a new nightclub called Billboard opened its doors on the Sunset Strip in West Hollywood.

As part of its grand opening, the nightclub received permission from the city to close a section of the famed Strip so that revelers could eat, drink, and be merry in what could only be described as an E-ticket street festival. Invitations to the event were almost impossible to get, and security for the party was tight, even by Hollywood standards. But security at the street party paled in comparison to security at the club itself, where only 400 VIPs were allowed to watch the Gin Blossoms perform. The rest of the party animals hat to watch the band on giant screens mounted atop the club’s entrance. I was one of the pathetic nobodies who thought he was somebody only to discover that the really cool people were the ones inside the club. Sulking outside the club, I noticed three young men wandering about. They were dressed like typical teens, sloppy for this event, and appeared as if they might be party crashers, except that I recognized one of them as Leonardo DiCaprio.I have been a fan since “What’s eating Gilbert Grape”, in which he portrayed a mentally challenged boy in an Oscar-nominated performance that put Hollywood on notice that a brilliant new talent hat arrived.

On the night of the Billboard Live party, Leo (that’s what his friends call him) and his pals looked out of place. In particular, Leo appeared lost until he spotted something on my chest.
Hanging from my neck was a color-coded pass that identified me as a member of the media. The actor’s eyes lighted up. He slowly walked over to me. My “cool” level increased dramatically.
“Excuse me, sir”, he said, decreasing my “cool” level by half and immediately aging me by about 150 years.
“I noticed your badge and thought you might be able to answer a question. I was wondering if you would know how I could get inside the club.”
“You want to get inside the club and you don’t know how to do it?” I asked in disbelief.
“Yes, sir”, he said. “My friends and I would love to get inside but we don’t know how.”
I couldn’t believe this kid. Didn’t he know how Hollywood works? Didn’t he understand his own standing in the actor’s community? Hadn’t he looked in the mirror lately?
“Actually, I do know how you can get in the club”, I said.
“You do?” he gushed, his eyes popping out of his sockets.
“Yes”, I replied. “Here’s what you do. Walk up to the front door and tell them you would like to go inside the club.”
“But there’s a long line of people standing in front and they’re not letting any of them inside”, the wide-eyed innocent said.
“Trust me on this, Leo”, I said, assuming I could call him Leo at this point, having spent almost a full half-minute with him. “Walk right up to the door and tell them that you would like to go inside.”
Young DiCaprio and his two buddies walked hesitantly toward the entrance. Just before they got there, my new best friend Leo turned and looked pleadingly in my direction. I gestured for him to keep going.
He approached a large security guard holding a walkie-talkie in one hand and a clipboard in the other. The actor said something in a soft voice and the guard immediately cleared a path. The security guard, like others who serve in Hollywood elite, was trained to spot stars, even stars on the rise.

In the case if Leo, this star rose officially when “Titanic” opened in Japan and the streets were filled with young Japanese girls screaming his name. That was the first time a lot of people realized how big he had become. Those people apparently missed the unofficial coronation during “William Shakespeare’s Romeo an Juliet”. Now that “Titanic” is past the $1 billion mark in the world box office, and writers pen endless prose about DiCaprio’s hefty contribution to the movie’s popularity, the whole galaxy knows about Leonardo DiCaprio.

I hope he is not overwhelmed by it all. I hope he stays the same unaffected kid I met that night at the party.

The ice-cream parlors of Hollywood are stained by the flavors-of-the-month who melted under the heat.

Thanks to Kerstin for posting this great little article !

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