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Paris Fashion Week isn’t really Michael Hansen’s scene. He’s a sports-arena guy, feeling more in his element at a Final Four basketball game or a French Open tennis match.
It’s 9:58 p.m. in a small, dark theater. The audience members, an eclectic mix of fashionistas and film fanatics, sit whispering, their faces washed in the green glow of the theater’s exit signs.
Underneath glittering stage lights the bass player and keyboardist pound out a melody. The lead singer sidles up to the microphone and belts out “American Idiot” with enough angst to fool anyone into believing he’s a member of a teenage garage band.