As Brad was leaving for the premiere on Sept. 5, a fire broke out at the condo complex next to the Park Hyatt, the hotel where Brad was staying, prompting authorities to evacuate the entire condo complex causing an evacuation of the entire condo complex next door.

"It was total chaos," says an eyewitness. "His security team immediately decided to evacuate Brad to avoid any possible threat. He was surrounded by eight security men and four policemen — it was crazy. It was as if Brad was the president!”

Fortunately, there were no injuries. "A condo on the seventh floor of the building caught on fire, but luckily, no one was home at the time," Stephan Powell, district chief with the Toronto Fire Services, tells Life & Style. "The whole population of the building — save for the affected apartment — was able to go back to their apartments within three hours."

To be clear, Pitt's family was not in attendance — no Chosen Blobs were in danger. Still, better safe than sorry, we say — we've got an Oscar bet to win here.

• BRAD PITT DODGES FIRE IN TORONTO! [Life & Style]

A few minutes later, says our source, "[Lumenick] stands up in the darkness and thwacks [Ebert] behind him with a big festival binder. He hit him so hard everybody could hear it. Everyone freaked out and turned around."

..."Apparently, Roger was just trying to tap Lumenick on the shoulder to signal him that he couldn't see the movie," surmises our source. "He was trying to ask him to move over a bit."

Though Lumenick seemed surprised to see whom he had struck, he offered no apology, according to another source.

Perhaps if Lumenick spent less time striking ailing film critics and more time fact-checking, he'd be filing TIFF reports with less inaccuracies (such as this one, which wrongly stated Magnolia was to buy Che — it was IFC — and misses the fact that Warner Independent picked up Slumdog in a negative pickup and sold it to Fox Searchlight). Hey, Lou: Ebert may still be recovering, but we have a feeling he can still do a lot of damage with no more than two strategically-jabbed thumbs.

• Critic goes Post-al on ill Roger Ebert [NY Daily News]

"Give this man some money," Benicio Del Toro was saying in his deep, private voice, flicking his face towards the nifty washroom attendant. He'd just done a perfunctory pocket-check, and come up empty.

"Money?" asked the director, the very one who dissembled so well on the subject in those Ocean's flicks, and who has a PhD of sorts in heists. Soderbergh dug into his pockets. Del Toro stood still, and let his lustrous mane do the talking. The washroom attendant smiled eagerly, but not too eagerly.

"It'll be big," the director was saying, still scraping through his pants. "I just went to the ATM."

"I just went to the ATM?" Really, Steven? That's not the way we would have expected him to characterize that Liberace film he just signed on for, but hey. Work's work.

• ¡Viva las manos limpias! [National Post]

· Paris, Not France premiered Tuesday night, with its subject in attendance as promised and with a letter from its beleaguered sales agent reportedly making the rounds beforehand:

"With less than one hour to go and no restraining order in place, I feel comfortable now letting you all know that this film was the subject of legal threats and was almost not shown at all here at the festival. [...] I am hoping that Paris will see, with the audience tonight, that there is nothing to be afraid of here. And will eventually let the film be distributed. What was originally conceived to be a 20-minute puff piece extra on the DVD release for her album, has in fact become a fascinating examination of what it's like to be a star in our star-obsessed culture. I can guarantee you three things: you may be the only people to ever see this version, you will not be disappointed, and everyone will be asking you if you saw it."

A few trusted sources were there, one of whom seemed to like the film more in theory: "Paris Hilton didn’t create this system––she’s just amongst its most photogenic exploiters. Its lack of perspective on its subject is troubling in the present, but at the very least, Paris Not France may serve in the future as a valuable time capsule of that exploitation in action." Another was less convinced, lamenting a larger Hilton conspiracy against the fest as a whole. And like you, we sense ourselves forgetting about the whole imbroglio before we even finish this sentence.

· IFC Films announced this morning that it acquired Steven Soderbergh's polarizing, 262-minute biopic Che for Stateside distribution. Look for one-week NYC/LA runs in December (followed by a VOD run in January), thus qualifying star Benicio Del Toro for an Oscar nomination that will probably go to Mickey Rourke anyway.

· Speaking of Oscars, The Hollywood Reporter notes that this year's fest is relatively light on awards-season hopefuls. Come back, Diablo Cody, all is forgiven!

· Kathryn Bigelow's actioner The Hurt Locker — which even mortal enemies David Poland and Jeffrey Wells agree is the best Iraq War film to date — also found a buyer, with the upstarts at Summit Entertainment grabbing it for under $2 million.

· Kevin Smith has officially moved into the I-slew-Goliath phase of his predetermined ratings squabble over Zack and Miri Make a Porno, telling an interviewer at Premiere exactly how many frames of fecal matter you can get away with onscreen before the NC-17 ax falls.

· Just for the record, Noah Emmerich's starring-role streak in New Line films — his latest being a cop in Pride and Glory — has nothing to do with the fact his brother runs the studio. If you don't believe him, ask him — it worked for Anne Thompson!

I was outside talking with some of the studio flacks when Piven arrived. He did the posing for the camera thing, then when he entered the party (at the Distillery Room, Boiler District) he walked past the full length poster at the entrance, noticed his picture wasn't on it, and very obviously gestured at the poster with a WTF kind of expression in plain view of everyone crowding around the entrance.

He also had two either very expensive or very skanky hookers with him, and everyone around was rolling their eyes at this.

The last part is the best though: At the actual screening, The Pivster was attending the screening with a buddy of his, and at the last minute made his friend give up his ticket to the Gala Screening, so Piven could bring a hooker in with him instead. Buddy got plain ditched outside the theatre.

Classy! Still, dear reader, caveat emptor — in the end, we can confirm neither the appearance nor livelihoods of Piven's date(s) nor the gravity of his friend's predicament. But there are clues: A slump's a slump, after all (especially for Pivs), and anytime a guy can circumvent the plunging dollar with a strategically placed premiere ticket and his memories of partying with the Stanley Cup, a perfect Northern douche storm can really never be too far off.

[Photo Credit: Getty Images]

· A National Post writer went to the party for Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist, where Michael Cera bumped around wearing his backpack and Kat Dennings, ahem, "gave off the unpretentious dewiness that is a visa of sorts to the country of bigger fame for starlets-on-the-climb." And if that fails, there's always Robert Rodriguez's hot tub.

· Tired of his besties at Warner Bros., Patrick Goldstein upgraded in Toronto with newfound documentary sensation LeBron James. The NBA star is featured in Hoop Dreams-ish coming-of-age saga More Than a Game, which tracks five kids — including James (it was only six years ago!) — from their "decrepit inner-city gym" to their contention for a national high school basketball championship. It apparently made James cry and made producer/music mogul Jimmy Iovine call Goldstein, who pimps it lovingly, noting that Lionsgate might be at the front of the line to pick it up.

· At last night's Sony Pictures Classics dinner, Anne Hathaway's shoes deflected attention from Charlie Kaufman's public awkwardness. That was nice of them!

· Which reminds us: Celebrities! Starlets! Ptooey! Canada for the Canadians! [Via David Poland]

· Does anyone up there has a spare camera he or she can lend to Jeffrey Wells? "Three young apes" stole his — and his iPhone. And he missed The Wrestler. At least buy the guy a drink or something if you see him.

· Jesus — first The Wrestler, now Zack and Miri Make a Porno. Todd McCarthy is turning into Harry Knowles.

· Tasting a hint of assent from critics and the public alike, Guy Ritchie OD'd on confidence and announced an entire Rocknrolla franchise. Last we heard, Joel Silver was still shopping the first one.

The critical accolades to date suggest the campaign will only expand from there, perhaps starting with revisions to the publicity stills currently circulating in the trades. After all, we know Oscar voters love a comeback story, but rarely against the backdrop of slogans invoking the sucking of "a fat dick." Don't take our word for it, though; see above where The Hollywood Reporter got burned, Variety drew the line, and where a better tomorrow begins today with a little bit of Photoshop and a whole lot of love.

• 'The Wrestler' wins Venice's Golden Lion [THR]
• Fox Searchlight pins 'Wrestler' [Variety]

Stylistically, it's agile, alert and most interested in what's going on in the characters' faces. And that is a lot. Physically imposing at 57 [sic], with a face that bespeaks untold battering and alteration, Rourke is simply staggering as Ram. The camera is rarely off him, and one doesn't want it to be, so entirely does he express the full life of this man with his every word and gesture. Ram's life has been dominated by pain in all its forms, but he's also devoted it to the one thing he loves and excels at, so he asks for no sympathy; he may have regrets, but no complaints.

In fact, Rourke only turns 52 this month — yet another testament to his prodigious talent for playing older, uglier and more selflessly than his preening peers. Look for the discussion to continue to this week in Toronto, where The Wrestler will square off with another has-been high-water mark, Jean-Claude Van Damme's JCVD — thus reviving the Rourke/Van Damme rivalry that so engrossed Razzie Award voters after their doomed 1997 collaboration Double Team. We're likely as glad as they they are to see those days behind them, but we still hope they'll follow proper star-reunion etiquette when passing each other en route to screenings. If we didn't pay to see the fight then, Lord knows we wouldn't pay to see it now.

• 'The Wrestler' [Variety]

[I]f Mr. Pitt does show up at an event Ms. Aniston is attending, it behooves him to initiate an interaction.

"The ball's more in his court to be gracious to her and to be a gentleman," says Dr. Fulbright, adding that acceptable patter could include saying how nice it is to see her and congratulating her on her movie.

For her part, Ms. Aniston should avoid being too animated. "Most of us try to be extra-clever and extra-charming," Ms. Vogels says. "It's so transparent. Everyone can tell you're overcompensating."

By the same token, a killer dress and a hot date is great but only if you're not using them as bait or continually checking to see whether you're being noticed.

Finally, it benefits both parties to keep it brief, have an exit strategy — such as meeting up with a friend — and avoid too many drinks, Ms. Vogels says.

Still, we don't see this scenario playing out very well for either party, with Aniston's awkward inquiries inevitably leading to the subject of new twins Knox and Vivienne, followed by Pitt's response, "Couldn't be better — here, I got pictures," and his back-pocket extraction of a dog-eared copy of People's Aug. 4 issue. "Here, you can have it. Show it to... What's his name? Where are you going?" Oh, but for small miracles.

• A tiff at TIFF? [Globe and Mail via MyHogtown]

Today, however, Page Six fields a different story entirely, quoting a Hilton rep who rather plainly acknowledged manipulating the basic tenets of Paris supply-and-demand. Who to trust? We called Toronto directly to find out.

"Any film is a very complicated set of business relationships, interpersonal relationships, etcetera," said TIFF documentary programmer Thom Powers, who denied his "miffed" characterization in today's NYP item. "In the context of a film festival, where a film is making its world premiere, it stirs up a lot of..." He took a moment, reached for a word. "'Drama' is, I guess, the best word I could say."

In this particular drama, Powers said he had dealt only with the filmmakers; he could neither address the "machinations" happening between Hilton and TIFF organizers nor confirm Paris's newly reported plans to attend next Tuesday's premiere. He did stand by the film, however, whose pared-down schedule — including its only press screening — could also imply that it's unfinished, thus potentially as damaging to its distribution chances as its subjects.

"In this case, nothing could be further from the truth," Powers said. "And in fact our press department is bending over backwards to accommodate the press that would have normally gone to a press screening to get them into a public screening. Which in a way I'm kind of more happy about. I wish the press was always watching films with the public, especially in Toronto. It's a much different experience."

We can vouch for that (see Borat's misbegotten if memorable non-premiere from 2006), and maybe even are prepared to take Camp Hilton at its hype-heightening word. Which, of course, also suggests that it has a stake in the film's commercial prospects. Naturally, that's where Hilton's rep finally clammed up with Page Six; neither her nor her allies' names appear in credits available on the fest's Web site, and Powers told us he is "not privvy to those details." Either way, look for the critical orthodoxy to instinctively hold its nose — guys like the Post's Lou Lumenick, who's likely the first of many to gripe all the way to the border about Hilton's commandeering of the prestigious fest.

Powers, meanwhile, is a little more philosophical. "What's interesting is to see how news of this film plays out as a further commentary of what celebrity means in the culture," he said. "I have films in the line-up like Food Inc., which has serious material based on the reporting of Eric Schlosser and Michael Pollan that's vital to understanding what we eat and the future of food in America, and yet that doesn't get the headline in Page Six. Paris Hilton does."

• PARIS HILTON'S CANADIAN CAPER [NYP]