I really didn't want to write a gushing report on my attendance at the Public Enemies press conference with Johnny Depp yesterday – it's just so clichéd and, well, girly – but I'm afraid due to totally avoidable and foreseen circumstances, that’s exactly what's going to happen. So I apologise here and now for the torrent of adoration and admiration that is about to spew out onto this page, and only hope that you can forgive my weaknesses and shortcomings in the face of the most beautiful face in the business.

I take solace from the fact that I will not be alone in my gushiness - the swanky underground banquet room in the Berkeley Hotel was jam-packed with eager beavers from the press world hankering for their big moment to share air with the legendary movie star, and it was quite the pitiful sight when he finally walked into the room. Lipsticked women and decidedly heterosexual men alike came over all funny when the lovely Mr Depp climbed the stage and did a quirky one eyebrow-raised double take at the larger-than-life poster of himself decorating the wall behind him, before sitting down in a plush leather armchair.

In jeans, white shirt and grey waistcoat he looked comfortable and relaxed as questions began flooding in from those lucky chosen press members, while others clambered to get into the eyeline of the moderator for the chance to grasp their own two minutes of eye contact time with the actor.

Questions ranged from the sensible - his method of preparation for the role of Dillinger (he read a lot of books), what it's really like to work with Christian Bale (he's a great guy…so there) and which of all his characters was it hardest to say goodbye to (Edward Scissorhands), to the frankly ridiculous - "Johnny, what is your beauty regime?", but all were answered in depth and with ease, if varying in their tone of sarcasm.

Being objective for a moment, Depp is actually every bit as charismatic and witty as you would hope him to be, and we his doting audience hung on his every word and tittered and giggled at all the right moments although, embarrassingly, perhaps to a degree that was not totally unbiased.

As is always the case when you're in stroking distance of your idol, time rushed on and you could suddenly feel the rise of disappointment as the audience sensed its time was at an end. But then what do you know, one lucky Screenrush journalist was handpicked to put forward the very last question of the session. I believe I asked something about working with a director of the calibre of Michael Mann, but it's hard to recall exactly – all I know is that for two blissful minutes, Johnny Depp was looking at me and talking to me, and I hadn't had to break any kind of law to get him to do it.

 Georgine Waller

Forget dodgy dialogue, sub-standard special effects and lazy plotlines, if there’s one thing that can totally ruin a film for me it’s not remembering where I know a familiar actor from. The trouble almost always stems from an extremely minor character in the movie who barely has any screen time, but if the answer ‘oh that’s so-and-so from what’s-it-called’ doesn’t pop into my head within a few seconds, I am plagued by the torturous memory of their face for hours and berate myself for not doing more brain exercises to improve my shoddy memory.

Take Star Trek for instance. Now, granted, nothing could really deaden the awesomeness of that film (except perhaps the worrying realization that you have actually become a certifiable Trekkie) but I spent a disproportionate amount of my cinema time trying to work out where I recognized Captain Kirk’s father from, who appears for about three minutes at the beginning and then never again. And I can tell you that when, a few hours later, I gave up and used IMDb to find out that he was just a guy called Kim in Home & Away, I definitely felt I’d been cheated in some profound way.

But nothing beats the heady satisfaction of a really great “spot”, when you’ve struggled and struggled and then the answer just floats into the mind, usually while doing something totally unconnected to the issue like showering or, as happens very often in my case, sleeping.

Some recent coups for me have included spotting Miss Cackle from childhood favourite The Worst Witch as a very minor character in ER, and clocking Lucas from Empire Records (this time more of a teenage rebellion favourite) in 24.

But my finest hour would have to be the spot that involved Tomas Arana (pictured). He has a bit part in Gladiator as Quintus, one of the Roman soldiers, and the first time I watched Gladiator back in 2000 I struggled for days with his unidentified face. The truly bizarre thing was that whenever I tried to picture him, half of his face was always obscured. It was only when, weeks later, the realization came to me that he played big baddie Greg Portman in Bodyguard that it all finally made sense – I was picturing the final scene when he tries to assassinate Whitney Houston, and half of his face is obscured by his video camera rigged to fire bullets.

Wow that was a good day… but it did make me question my sanity a little.

Anyone else care to share the inner workings of their weird and wonderful mind?