Sundance: Charitable Moods and Rapping White Dudes

James Devaney/WireImage.com

RSVPs:  Eddie Murphy, Katherine Heigl, Ginnifer Goodwin and Josh Hartnett
Where:  Sundance Film Festival, Park City, Utah
When:  Jan. 21

After a late night drinking Kröl vodka with Justin Timberlake and Lance Bass, I'm craving a burger, so I pop into the T-Mobile Cafe at the Village at the Lift. As I sit down, I see TV doc Katherine Heigl with her musician fiancé, Josh Kelley. Katherine is anything but gray, gushing about the five people in her T-Mobile myFaves: Josh (obvi), her mother, aunt, uncle and best friend, all of whom are currently in town. Why the family affair? "Katherine and Josh are considering buying a vacation home," a girl whispers to me. "So, her family is helping them look at properties in nearby Deer Valley." So cute—and über-convenient. Next Sundance, Katherine could be a local. 

Speaking of homes, my journalist pal Shauna is dying to tell Jamie Kennedy that ever since he did his Eminem-esque comedy, she can't talk about her hometown without hearing a jab about Malibu's Most Wanted. After our meal, we walk over to his booth and find Jamie thinks his popularity is hilarious. “Fo-shizzle!” he exclaims. “You my Malibu G-Nizzle. Where'd you go to school? Peppernizzle?" Ahhh, a morning of impromptu rapping. The day is getting off to a great start.

Things get even better when I run into Ginnifer Goodwin at the Hollywood Life Lounge. Forget those second-rate Katie Holmes press references—Chris Klein's new gal is beyond adorable—and down to earth, too. "I'm just here to have fun," she says, adding that she's basically following her boy around for his movie The Good Life. "I'm a professional plus-one."  

Unlike other celebs, Ginnifer's fun doesn't involve a room filled with freebies. "When I do get swag, I give it to Children of the Night," she says of her preferred charity, which rescues kids from child prostitution. I think I just fell in love with Big Love wife number three.

Over at the Backstage Creations Celebrity Retreat, I run into other bighearted celebs at the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society booth. James Franco and John Cusack support the cause by autographing items to be auctioned off. Adam Brody even donates a bag with his signature. "Some people stop by just for us," the vendor says. "They don't even walk over to the swag."

At the nearby Premiere Film & Music Lounge, Josh Hartnett is finishing his photo shoot. And the room is beautiful, because boutique Intermix is gifting. After perusing an assortment of Anlo jeans, I try on a pair of Chloe sunglasses. "Oh, those are really popular," an Intermix girl says. "Sienna Miller was just trying them on with her mom, then Zooey Deschanel stopped by and got a matching pair with her mom." Someone must be taking tips from Jeremy Piven, because it seems mothers are the hot date for Sundance.

After a quick bite, I head back to the Premiere Lounge for tonight's kickoff party for The Ten. The racks of clothing have vanished, only to be replaced by partygoers swaying in excitement to Matisyahu's surprise 30-minute performance. Costar Paul Rudd is in the front row, impersonating the Hassidic hip-hop star with a grizzly beard.

Snow Angels star Sam Rockwell is in flirt mode. Again. After hitting on a reporter at the premiere for his festival flick, Sam is now working this room in hopes of scoring some digits.  Ian Ziering is also gettin' busy, confronting a blond babe for her 411. I have to admit, they're not the only ones on the prowl. I have to get my butt over to Tao at Harry O's if I want to see Josh Hartnett again.

I arrive just as Aaron Eckhart is leaving. Tear. My timing is so off today. The Smoking hot actor was being awarded the 2007 Ray-Ban Visionary Award by his Black Dahlia costar, my hunky Hartnett. I think I see Josh across the club, but upon closer inspection, it's Billy Baldwin. And I'm not the only one confused by Baldwin's vague aura of stardom. I hear he was turned away at first by a Tao bouncer who didn't recognize him. Ouch. Billy, call your agent, you need another blockbuster pronto! Or maybe a TV movie. Something...anything.

On the other side of the VIP area is tonight's surprisingly mellow man Eddie Murphy. On my way to Sundance, my cabdriver told me he picked up a homeless man who was treating himself to a hotel room, after Murphy had kindly given him $300. I go over to tell the Dreamgirls star how he made a poor man's dream come true, but Eddie jumps in, seeming a little confused, and says, "It didn't happen."  As it turns out, he thinks I’m referring to some other rumor. He likes mine much better.

Matisyahu jumps onstage for yet another performance. Having heard enough white rappers for the day, I follow Diddy's lead and make my exit to catch a few Zzzs before my last day.

Considering I only got 14 hours of shut-eye in the past four days, I oversleep and don’t roll back into the T-Mobile Cafe until noon.  I say hi to DJ Steve Aoki, who had complimented me outside the Fred Segal Lounge on my new DC jacket a few days before. “We just got back from boarding,” Steve says, while eating lunch with his manager and fellow spinning pal DJ AM. I’m curious where Mandy Moore is, considering I saw her kissing DJ's alter ego, Adam Goldstein, outside in the snow the other day, but I’m starving, so I decide to catch up on the two lovebirds at Mandy's premiere party later on tonight.

Filled and refreshed, I head back to the Marquee Suite to see more celebs in swagaction. As Tara Reid bounces from booth to booth while filming a TV segment, Kate Walsh tries on sweaters from Blue Genes in her new Lia Sophia necklace. "They're badass," she says of the jewelry line. "I love them." And she looks great in the accessories. But how can you not when you're 5-foot-10 with long flowing locks?

I finally get face-to-face time with Mandy at Lotus VIP Lounge's Cocktail Party at the Hollywood Life House for her movie Dedication. AM's girl is gorgeous and an expert at working the crowd. Between kissy time with her beau, she chats up her director, Justin Theroux, then goes over to say hello to movie honcho Harvey Weinstein. I'm sure her charm must have had some effect on Weinstein's decision to buy the romantic comedy. She's a smiling sensation.

Not as smiley but still quite the mingler is Mandy's costar Billy Crudup, who is en-Sundance-vogue with his scruffy look. Thankfully, he has nixed the de rigueur bushy beard, instead settling on a thick mustache. Not preferring hairy anything is Winona Ryder, who kindly refuses a fur-trimmed Ya Ya sweater, saying she doesn't do animal products. She does, however, accept a cashmere sweater, 'cause no goat shivered to make that, right?

The cocktail carousel is nice, but it's my last night here, and I want to party! I hear Nelly is already onstage at Tao, so I walk across the street for Blender Sessions. After giving a cheer-up hug to heartbroken Lance Bass, Tara reverts to her crazy antics, jumps onstage and grinds with Akon to "Smack That." Not wanting anything of mine smacked, I do a quick once around and decide to end my evening—though it's morning by this time—at Late Night at the Heineken Green Room.

Looks like everyone had the same idea. The place is packed with Sundance revelers excited to listen to the dapper deejay three: Danny Masterson, Steve Aoki and DJ AM. The boys look like frat brothers behind the booth, jumping up and down while spinning. More low key is Drea de Matteo and her man, Shooter Jennings. The two order bottle service to a private table at the side of the lounge. But they can't get comfortable. They move booths three times, settling on a hidden corner spot. The Sopranos star rests her legs on Shooter's lap, smoking cigarettes and drinking with a couple of her gal-pals. But the cocktails don't last for long. "No more alcohol," the bartender regretfully informs his patrons. Guess that's my cue to leave.

After a quick nap, it's off to the airport and back to Hollywood. But even when I arrive at LAX, Sundance is in the air. Waiting at baggage claim, I run into Ziering. “You’ve become so familiar,” he says. As I tell him I’m sure I’ll see him around, I have a sudden realization: During Sundance, Park City is just like home, without the 90210.