BY EGINA MANACHOVA Much like March, this year’s Cinefest came in like a lion and went out like a lamb — at the slaughterhouse. Quiet, doomed and resigned to its uncertain fate. Phawker’s resident Cinephile went to the lamb’s last scream at the G Lounge Monday night. The opening night of the festival found yours truly hobnobbing with the not-so-rich and not-so-famous. Well, that all changed Monday night. The evening started slowly with a five deep bar line. By the end of a twenty minute wait I found myself double-fisting complimentary Stellas and making my way to a group of friendly but bored party-goers. As we exchanged pleasantries we found ourselves staring at a voluptuous, pleather-clad blond being groomed like a poodle. Intrigued, we couldn’t help but stare. To our amazement she was being filmed. Did they hire beautiful people for the party, we wondered aloud? Turns out they were filming a documentary on hot trannies in our City of Brotherly love. That’s when I knew this night was about to get good. As my blood thinned, my little de facto clique struck gold. We discovered Rory Culkin — the youngest, least-known, and most-adorable Culkin brother.
Standing a foot away from our prey we hatched a plan. We spent a good half hour deciding how we 
were going to approach this tiny handsome star standing just 32 inches away. Staring and pointing we waited for one of us to get up enough ‘Dutch courage’ to start a conversation with the littlest Culkin. Turns out I was the most ‘daring’, i.e. buzzed, and approached the compact sphere of minor celebrity known as Rory. I came bearing gifts of hot dogs and whiskey. He caught me by surprise when he wondered aloud if it would be gauche to dip his hot dog in the whiskey.
We suggested heading over to McGlinchey’s — where dipping hot dogs in whiskey would raise no eyebrows — hoping to dazzle the L.A. jet setter with a little gritty Philly local color. That idea died a quick death when Culkin pointed out that he is only 19, a problem further compounded by the fact that he looks about 11. Bidding him adieu, I told him that if boredom overtook him we would be only a few feet away.
Back in our little group, we refreshed our glasses and tried to figure out what went wrong. Was whiskey-and-hotdogs the wrong opener? After all, he is from L.A. Maybe he’s a vegetarian. Maybe he is in AA. He is a Culkin, and rehab seems to be a birthright. Being that none of us were really action people, we shared our scheme with anyone that would listen. And listen they did — specifically a busty red head with stars in her eyes. She attacked like a she-wolf and quickly devoured our prey. The next we saw of Rory, he was by the bathrooms making out with the busty redhead, as well as a blond, and a cute Asian. Well, that’s showbiz for ya.