THINGS were quiet down at the Michael Collins desk in the Excelsior Hotel on the Lido in Venice. Then in came this short little guy with greying hair and said to the Warner Brothers PR people: "Tutti contenti? (Everybody happy?)"
For a second, the use of Italian and the discreet linen jacket, linen trouser and trainer look fooled one. Only for a second. This was unmistakably Dustin Hoffman, at the Venice Film Festival to promote, the films Sleepers and American Buffalo as well as to pick up a Golden Lion Lifetime Achievement Award.
Suddenly, the Warner Brothers office was all action. Within seconds, word was out in the foyer of the Excelsior and the hacks were on to him. Faced with a full frontal assault of cameras, microphones and note books, Hoffman responded with charm and good manners, even doing his best to speak some Italian. He might be a big star, but he ain't no prima donna.
A day earlier at the news conference to present Sleepers, he had indulged in an engaging exchange of mock insults with co-partner Robert De Niro, telling reporters in the most solemn tones: "I'll never work with Bob again..." To which De Niro replied immediately: "You just make sure you learn your lines next time."
At which point, both men broke up in laughter, delighted that for even a fraction of a translator's second, the Italian media might have been ready to believe them.
It's film festival time in Venice, and the Lido's a stage and all the people on it really are actors. Walk, in the door of the Excelsior and the unsuspecting hack nearly gets rub down by the purposeful stride of 6 ft-plus Anjelica Huston, elegantly dressed in cream trouser-suit and heading off to do battle as, part of the festival jury. Lean out over the parapet opposite the Excelsior and you see Robert De Niro waving to the fans as his vaporetto taxi pulls in. Even the Excelsior itself prompts powerful cinematic memories.
Walk out to the back garden that leads on to the Lido beach, ignore the TV crews and shut your eyes and the rich tones of the slow movement of Mahler's 5th Symphony swell up. This is Death in Venice territory and you half expect Dirk Bogarde to walk around the corner at any moment, dye still running out of his hair as in the Luchino Visconti film.
Outside the Excelsior, too, there appear to be a lot of wannabes wandering up and down in front of the Palazzo Del Cinema and the Casino del Lido. Elegantly and occasionally minimally dressed young ladies are indulging the national pastime for a passegiata (stroll) as they strut their stuff, hopeful that maybe someone from the big time (i.e. America) may notice them. Listening to the hard bitten gossip of producers, directors and actors around the Excelsior bar, one gets the impression that cinematic fame and fortune do not usually come via the passegiata.
This year, of course, there is a major Irish interest in the Venice Film Festival with the screening of Neil Jordan's eagerly-awaited and already controversial, Michael Collins, one of 17 films in contention for the prestigious Golden Lion award.
For the Irish reader, the title of the film explains all. Judging by a colleague's inquiry, however, for the rest of the world, potential Anglo-Irish disagreements on the subject are bewildering: "Mah, Michael Collins, chi era? (But who was Michael Collins, anyway?)", was a question frequently put to the writer.
Presumably, those colleagues will be less bewildered after this morning's screening and subsequent news conference, due to be attended by Neil Jordan and leading actors Liam Neeson and Stephen Rea.
If not, confused colleagues can take comfort from the words of Tom DiCillo, director of another competition film, Box Of Moonlight. Faced yesterday by a perplexed critic who wanted the chiave (key) to his sense of humour, DiCillo answered: "That's OK. If you didn't get it, you didn't get it. That's OK. Don't worry about it."