Every parent knows: There are gifts, and then there are annoying gifts.
There are gifts that make noise, and ones that take up an insane amount of space.
And then there are gifts that do both.
The moral of this story is: Think twice before inviting Jake Gyllenhaal, doting uncle to Gloria and Ramona — and brother of Maggie and brother-in-law to her husband, Peter Sarsgaard — to your kids’ birthday party.
“I brought so many balloons to my niece’s eighth birthday — I felt really bad,” Jake recalls, a bit ruefully. “I knew I wasn’t going to be the one taking them home. I literally brought like 45 balloons. My brother in law was like, ‘Thanks.’ The next day I asked my niece where all the balloons went. She said, ‘They’re everywhere.’”
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I first spot Jake Gyllenhaal in the lobby of the InterContinental Hotel in Toronto wearing a button-down shirt and sunglasses. I am supposed to interview him in 20 minutes about his role in “Nightcrawler,” an enthralling new genre flick about a psychotic freelance cameramen who films crime scenes for local news programs. These freelancers, or nightcrawlers—unscrupulous vampires of the night—listen to police scanners for brutal car crashes and headline-worthy crimes, then speed to the scene and film what they can. The resulting footage gets sold to local outlets for cash. The general rule of thumb: the bloodier the scene, the bigger the payout.
