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As the 31st edition of the Toronto International Film Festival emits its last gasp, I am sucking on a canister of concentrated oxygen, hoping it will give me the strength to go on.

Oxia, the refillable personal-oxygen dispenser, has been one of the biggest fads this year. These water-bottle sized pick-me-ups, which retail for $79.95, are supposed to restore mental clarity and cure brutal hangovers. The Vancouver-based company behind the product has been giving away the canisters at the eTalk Lounge all week. And many celebrities, including Parker Posey and Christina Ricci, are mad about the mini energy boosts.

Jennifer Coolidge, here to promote For Your Consideration, said a few deep drags made her "wittier" during her interview.

If only they were giving the oxygen to the publicists, bodyguards, waiters, bartenders and all the other little people behind the scenes.

In recent years, the final Friday night of the festival was a dead zone. That wasn't the case last night, when hot-ticket premieres and parties for Bollywood's Kabul Express, Ron Mann's Tales of the Rat Fink and Peter Mettler's live-cinema rave extravaganza kept Toronto hopping until the sun came up.

And there is still today's awards reception at the Hilton hotel, closing gala for Amazing Grace and closing night party at Metro Square.

For the first few years after the calamities of 9/11, which occurred during the middle of the festival in 2001, TIFF became extremely front-heavy. No one from the United States wanted to be away from home during the anniversary, so most major galas and junkets were piled into the first weekend. Five years later, global events might not be much more stable, but TIFF has balanced out.

"I remember one year, we had 16 films in the festival and 14 of them finished by Tuesday," Toronto film publicist Bonnie Allen said outside the Kabul Express premiere.

"It's nice to see the programming stretched out a bit more this year. This way, everyone's able to get the attention they deserved," she added, nodding to the hundreds of devoted fans who had flocked to the Elgin Theatre to see Bollywood superstar John Abraham.

The downside to the extended activities is maintaining the required adrenaline levels. "When the new staff members signed on with us this year, I told them they had to take multivitamins and stress tablets," Ms. Allen laughed.

She should have given the same advice to the four burly bodyguards hired for crowd control. One looked like he was going to freak when Mr. Abraham walked off the red carpet and strolled into the mob.

"I think they probably underestimated tonight's crowd," a uniformed duty officer from the Toronto Police Service said, as festival and theatre staffers linked arms to keep screaming fans at bay.

The bedlam was probably worse later last night at Dundas Square, where Beyonc e was giving a free concert. But I'm sure her security was tight. The night before, at the FQ magazine party at L'Atelier, her bodyguards toured the site and deemed it too crowded for her to attend.

At times, parties can be so crazy the staff don't even get fed. At Sunday's One X One gala, I met up with Karning Hum, a colleague from CTV. When I saw him feasting on a plate of cannelloni, I demanded to know where he got it.

He took me to the kitchen, where a platter of pasta was sitting on the counter, just waiting to be devoured. I prepared a plate, hopped up on the counter and started chowing down on what I thought were leftovers.

Suddenly, a group of party planners stormed in. "What do you mean the guests have been eating the staff meal?" one gentleman fumed. "How did they get in here?"

"Uh, I can explain," I said, guiltily choking back a mouthful of pasta.

"Excuse me, we're having a private discussion," another man glared. He turned back to the guy, who now looked panicked.

"Only three flats left to feed 70 staff! We're going to have to order pizza," he huffed.

"I'm really sorry," I said to a staff member who was preparing coffee.

"Don't worry," she said. Then like a true body-conscious celebrity, added: "I don't need the carbs."

Paul Grosi, a former front-door host and food runner at Sassafraz restaurant in Yorkville, was so fed up with the festival madness he quit his job midweek.

"We had been working 17-hour days," he explained yesterday. "The restaurant was totally overbooked because the owners had added 28 new tables. The guests obviously weren't getting good service. And everyone was mad because no celebrities had shown up."

At the end of one extremely long, frustrating shift, he had $38 in tips. A normal sum on a night that busy, he explained, is about $200.

"I walked out with a bartender and two other workers," he said proudly. "It's just wasn't fair. We had to take a stand."

I gave Mr. Grosi a puff of my oxygen, which seemed to calm his nerves. But later that night, when I offered a whiff to a bartender at the Spoke Club, he looked at me like I was insane.

"That's the dumbest thing I've every heard of," he said. "Why don't you just drink water?"

Blame it on the festival. Thank goodness it's almost over.