Since I was a kid escaping into movies, I’ve wanted to walk the red carpet at a Hollywood premiere. I idolized the people I saw responsible for making movie magic happen. My favorite shows were behind-the-scenes looks at how movies were made.
It’s no wonder I jumped at the chance to attend the world premiere of Saving Mr. Banks, Walt Disney Studios’ history-based retelling of how the iconic Mary Poppins film was made. It was December of 2013 and I was working as the Brand Manager for Visit California, a dream job for a native Californian and self-proclaimed marketing nerd. At the time, my work focused on brand advertising and storytelling tied closely to California’s cultural and creative industries.
Because of the film’s strong California ties, our team was involved in supporting the premiere, and I attended as part of that work. This would be the most high-profile event of my career (so far).
Making the night even more magical was the location of the premiere – on the historic Walt Disney Studios lot. We walked the red carpet surrounded by iconic studio buildings: the animation wing, commissary and Snow White Theatre. Walt Disney’s original black stretch limo, featured in the film, was on display, and the scene was abuzz with reporters, staff and stars.
And oh were there stars! I was expecting to see the cast of the film – Tom Hanks, Colin Farrell, Emma Thompson – but it was the OGs showing up that left me stunned and speechless. I couldn’t believe my eyes seeing Mary Poppins herself, Julie Andrews, and her side kick, Dick Van Dyke, gracefully make their way down the line of shouting reporters and flashbulbs.
I never felt closer to that childhood dream than I did that night. I expected Tom Hanks to be kind and gracious (and he was) but it was Colin Farrell who most surprised me. The supposed Hollywood bad boy showed nothing but kindness that night, and was amazingly down to earth in his casual and welcoming demeanor at the after party in the studio commissary.
That night reignited the spark of my childhood daydreams. I had resigned myself to seeing Hollywood as an unattainable fantasy, something that only existed for the lucky few or elite insiders.
What stayed with me wasn’t the glamour or the proximity to fame – it was the reminder that the people who make the work (writers, artists, executives, crews) aren’t so different from the people who dream about it. That night cracked something open for me. It didn’t suddenly make Hollywood accessible, but it made it feel human again.
And once something feels human, it feels possible.
What about you? Have you ever had a moment that made a long-held dream feel possible again?
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