"Let Me Entertain You, Let Me Make You Smile. And If You're Real Good, We'll Have A Real Good Time." ~Gypsy

(Josh Safdie, Ben Safdie, biting Ariel Schulman's arm)

I first met Josh and Ben Safdie in an Upper West Side studio, decorated with piles of foreign passports, Jerzy Kosinski books, and at least eight different table lamps placed on shelves, closet floors and the balcony (anywhere but tables).

I was 21 and it was the summer of 2005. The studio belonged to recent Sundance star and Catfish director Ariel Schulman. I’d met Ariel (and his brother Nev, the on-camera Catfish star) just weeks before, on a different kind of balcony at a spring gala for the NYC Ballet. Ariel grew up with the Safdies in Manhattan and, due to similarly chaotic yet creatively inspiring childhood narratives, created Red Bucket Films together. That summer five years ago, RBF was still in its own chaotic childhood; their website featured a dozen or so very short films they’d shot in the city using the same kind of video cameras my technologically-challenged mother would be able to “figure out.”

(Josh, Ben, me)

Also there that night was Casey Neistat, one half of yet another filmmaking brother duo known as the Neistat Brothers. Unlike the RBF crew, Casey and his brother Van were, aside from older and wiser, successfully building the beginnings of a real career. Their short, “iPod's Dirty Secret” began as a YouTube blockbuster hit in 2003, eventually noticed by the chattering classes in the media.

(Casey Neistat, me, Nev Schulman)

We listened to confusing music I’d never heard before but made sure to download as soon as I got home, passing a joint around, and sitting on the floor using gigantic markers to fill in cardboard bubble letter props. Well, the boys did the drawing while I babysat the joint. After gazing in awe at a new double-ended marker Ariel presented as though it were a blood diamond, the lamps were all turned off, Casey put an unmarked DVD into the TV and we all stopped to gather in a city night-lit circle to watch.

Having been the designated pot chaperone, I don’t remember specifics. I do remember the general concept: a recreation of Jurassic Park using only Claymation. And re-told as a comedy; the dinosaurs spoke English and wanted off the island. Hints of Maurice Sendak’s mythology, Michel Gondry’s cinematography and Wes Anderson’s glib dialogue were all apparent in only three colorful minutes.

(Ariel teaching me to ride a Vespa)

Today, I remember this night the way my dad must remember his first encounter with Al Pacino in the late 1960s (Pacino was a little-known off-Broadway actor auditioning for my dad’s never-made musical version of A Mother's Kisses; apparently he sang “Luck Be A Lady” and the producers were not impressed.) This week I wrote a piece for Interview about the Safdies’ Sundance hit Daddy Longlegs; the Neistats have signed a series deal with HBO; Ariel and Nev will achieve “wide-release” status once Catfish opens this fall.

Stars, before they are born, were always stars. I highly suggest falling in love with them before the rest of the world does. Not for bragging rights or VIP groupie status, but for the same reason everyone should fall in love: once they eventually get what they want, you realize you’ve always wanted them to. Their dreams coming true means a few of yours do too.