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Everybody wanted to be Shirley MacLaine's buddy last night at the 14th annual Best Buddies gala. Before the appetizer had even been cleared, a half-dozen people had approached the screen legend and doled out the praise. Co-chair Danny Greenglass happily let me sit beside Ms. MacLaine as he circulated among the tables.

Best Buddies was founded by Mr. Greenglass and Penny Shore to foster friendships between the intellectually challenged and high-school and university students.

“I have a deep interest in what constitutes as challenged,” Ms. MacLaine told me. “Because the ones who are so-called challenged are the masters of love. What they do is enable the helper to find the aspect of love that they didn't know was there.”

In addition to announcing two major new sponsors, Audi and Indigo, Ms. Shore told the 500 attendees that a new national awareness campaign will soon be launched and that, thanks to Indigo, every buddy now has a new book. Dinner chair Barry Avrich first met Ms. MacLaine after he made a documentary about the late Hollywood mogul Lew Wasserman.

When asked to name her best buddy, Ms. MacLaine diplomatically answered, “Everyone here in this room.”

Then she told me to get my hair out of my eyes because she wanted to see them. “They're so beautiful,” she said. “You need a bobby pin.” Only a buddy (or a mother) could say that.

WE'LL ALWAYS HAVE PARIS

“I like your outfit,” said Paris Hilton to me at the InStyle and Hollywood Foreign Press Association party on Tuesday night. “It's hot.”

And with that, I knew that my film festival coverage had reached its zenith.

When I last signed off, Sir Ben Kingsley and an effortlessly handsome Jim Sturgess had just arrived.

What I neglected to mention was that upon my own arrival, likely a half-hour before the buzz began to build, a certain silver-screen siren stepped out of the festival's ubiquitous Cadillac Escalade hybrids.

It was Catherine Zeta-Jones and she looked stunning (how could she not) but perhaps a bit safe, as if she was deliberately trying to fly below the radar.

And it worked because I never saw her again the rest of the evening.

Meanwhile, the banquette alcoves that run both sides of the grand room within the Windsor Arms Hotel began to resemble lunch at Michael's, the famed New York restaurant where every table boasts a bold, bolder and boldest array of names.

Tim Robbins and posse took one next to Ethan Hawke, who sat alone for what may have felt like an eternal few minutes before being joined by Mark Ruffalo, his co-star in What Doesn't Kill You, which premiered last night. Adrien Brody completed the bro-friend clique. On the other side of the room, Sophie Bush, who may just take this year's Geoffrey Rush Prize for Most Ubiquitous Partygoer, got a banquette of her own, as did Sir Ben, who, as promised, did not stay too late.

Some celebs are natural standers. I have yet to see Rachel Weisz sit down. Granted, if I were wearing a bandage-tight Herve Leger dress, I wouldn't either. The Brothers Bloom beauty stood within arm's reach of Mickey Rourke, who's in town for The Wrestler. The actors may have engaged in meaningful conversation but, as far as looks were concerned, ne'er the twain shall meet.

Joseph Gordon Levitt also kept both his feet firmly planted on the ground. Perhaps literally, depending on your feelings about mixing parties with politics. Well-dressed in black from head to toe, his one accessory was a Barack Obama pin. “I think it's important to show support wherever I am,” said the 27-year-old actor, who has a role in Spike Lee's film, Miracle at St. Anna. When asked whether Canadians seemed to care, he answered, “Some. I feel like it's more of an international community here.”

That said, the event's Canadian contingent was strongly represented by Scott Speedman, Piers Handling, Cameron Bailey and Robert Lantos, fresh from being honoured at the Isreelized reception earlier in the evening.

It was on a visit to the bar for some water that I happened upon Ms. Hilton and her DJ boyfriend Benji Madden, mingling in the crowd and not objecting to pictures with a few drooling men.

But where were the Hilton Henchmen? The stalkerazzi?

Credit, it would appear, goes to Windsor Arms proprietor George Friedmann who, over the years, has been able to establish a comfort level for any degree of in-demand personality.

He roamed the room throughout the night and greeted guests magnanimously. “Normally, I don't stay out late but this is a pet party for me,” he said. “Plus, it's the biggest party of the festival.”

Okay, back to Ms. Hilton. I wanted to know how it felt to watch herself on such a big screen surrounded by so many people. “It was exciting. Everyone really liked it,” she said. Her dressed-down look was partly her own design as evidenced when she showed me the Paris Hilton signatures embedded on her printed top. And that was when she said those famous two words. It was as if she'd christened my plaid dress.

I was told that she continued her mission to make people feel good by paying a visit to the IT Lounge located on the hotel's mezzanine level. There, she signed the Wall of Heroes for Big Brothers and Big Sisters, which also includes signatures from Queen Latifah, Petra Nemcova, Debra Winger and the aforementioned Mr. Robbins.

THE SHOW GOES ON

Meanwhile, I moved on, heading downtown to Kultura for Lush magazine's TIFF party. Apparently, I'd just missed John Legend, but I did manage to spend my time hypnotized by DJ Russell Peters. Not that it's up to me but he should consider a permanent switch from stand-up to scratching.

The music provided a lively backdrop for one final night of après schmoozing at the Park Hyatt. Here's hoping Bonyan Films reserves the rooftop again next year because nowhere else did the scene stay as solid over such an extended period of time. Even Mr. Brody returned for one last round. The show has slowed down but it's still going on.