Stalking Paul Rudd

Like all dot-com-types, I'm sure that when the founders of Twitter launched the site, they figured they were creating a service that would help businesses become more efficient, make it easier for people to stay in touch with family and friends, and perhaps even one day play a key role in protests over allegedly fraudulent Iranian elections.

But today illustrated Twitter's true ideal purpose: Helping bloggers stalk movie stars.

There I was, wasting a day off of work at the zoo like a sucker, when Washingtonian's Catherine Andrews was good enough to tweet that the movie production currently in D.C., starring Owen Wilson, Paul Rudd, and Reese Witherspoon, was filming nearby in Adams Morgan.

Stalking Movie Stars > Cute Animals, so I headed over.

The really great thing about film crews
is how unobtrusive they are.

When I got over there, I was bummed to see that the set was pretty much closed off. The filming was taking place a bit past the intersection of Adams Mill and Columbia, and between traffic, the cops, and army of production assistants, there was a fairly efficient perimeter set up. (Not all film sets in D.C. are this secure, often making it easy to do everything from getting a really good look at the action, to even becoming an unofficial extra.)

The PAs, in particular, were doing a good job of making sure onlookers didn't become an issue. And by "doing a good job," I mean, "being annoying pests."

I saw a lot of people sit down across the street, completely out of the way of the filming, only to be told, politely but firmly, that they had to move along. I'm not entirely sure a 19 year-old kid with a headset has the legal authority to do that, but considering that D.C. has started lusting after film dollars like a junkie with a bad crack habit, it wouldn't have surprised me in the least to see the cops side with the 19 year-old kid.

Then I saw him right across the street: Paul Rudd. He was filming a scene where he runs across Adams Mill Road in a wacky manner, dodging traffic, and carrying a six-pack of beer.

It's weird, I don't collect autographs (unless it's on, like, a football or something), and I would never ask a celebrity to take a photo with me (because, I mean, what do you do with it when you have it?). But just seeing Paul Rudd in person made me happy for some reason. Because it's fucking Paul Rudd! Who doesn't love Paul Rudd? If there was a fire, and I had to choose between saving my parents and saving Paul Rudd, I'd save Paul Rudd. My parents gave me life, but Paul Rudd gave me Role Models, The 40 Year Old Virgin, and Overnight Delivery. So really not much of a choice.

To get a better look, I decided to duck into the one place where I was pretty sure the film crew's authority didn't extend, the Starbucks on the corner. A few other people had evidently had the same idea. Most were just harmless onlookers with, at most, camera phones. But there were a few TMZ wannabes there with some serious camera equipment, and that (perhaps understandably) made the production crew somewhat annoyed.

And so this happened:

After these guys were asked to relocate across the street, it was just the harmless onlookers, and a couple of other amateur paparazzi who were allowed to stay because they were focused more on their Frappuccinos than taking photos. With them out of the way, there was no one blocking the view out the window.

That vaguely Paul Rudd-ish blob? That's actually
Paul Rudd! (And that 3 megapixel camera
in the iPhone 3GS is looking pretty good right about now.)

Anyway, you can only watch someone--even Paul Rudd--run across the street carrying beer so many times before it gets boring. So after a bit, I decided to split. But as I walked out of the Starbucks, I noticed that people were being allowed to walk down the sidewalk until they started filming again, and Paul Rudd was only a few yards away.

I thought it over. Do I play it cool, walk past, and just give him the head nod? Do I run up and tell him that if he and my parents were in a fire, I'd save him? Do I kidnap Brocktoon...I mean, Paul Rudd...and keep him in a big jar in my basement?

Ultimately, I decided to just settle for a better picture. But clearly, my paparazzi timing needs work, because at the last second:

I think they're going to be filming in D.C. for a little while longer, so I'm going to watch TMZ so I can get some tips for next time. Hopefully, from that blonde dude. He seems smart.

And I'm also going to get my big jar ready. Just in case.