“Things tend to accumulate after Labor Day!” That line, uttered by Drew Barrymore in HBO’s “Grey Gardens” (as Edie Beale, facing down the East Hampton health department), drew one of the big laughs of the night at the Ziegfeld Theater premiere Tuesday. But this was no isolated incident of audience participation.

You tend to get movie-house applause during musicals; rarely throughout a more-or-less serious film. There is much that is funny in “Grey Gardens,” along with its tragic tale of two lost souls. Over and over again, Miss Barrymore, in what is surely the performance of her career, and Jessica Lange as Edie’s mother, were lauded, vocally, in the packed theater. Miss Lange has one bit of business — as the aged and infirm Edith, singing, and combing out her straggly grey hair — that elicited a commotion, including shouts of “brava, brava!” It was like a night at the opera, without the corsets.

Lange and Barrymore (the latter all decked out like a sexy 1930s debutante) were on hand in person. Both are reasonably down-to-earth women, and have enjoyed long careers. Still, it had to have been a thrill — all this intense appreciation.

I wrote the other day how terrific “Grey Gardens” is. So I’ll tell you again, urging you not to miss this masterpiece when it airs Saturday on HBO at eight o’clock PM.  

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The party after was held at The Pierre, and despite a brutal chill and miserable downpour, the place was jammed. You knew right away it was going to be fun — they were playing the sounds of Billie Holiday. Somebody had class! Well, it was a Peggy Siegal event, and she is an ever-surprising and enterprising party-giver. She stood outside the grand ballroom of The Pierre greeting guests, and once again I thought how very much like a delicate Christmas tree she is. A tiny, tinseled dynamo.

Sights and sounds included Bravo’s big man, the charming Andy Cohen, who took it very cheerfully when he was told, “please don’t be offended, but I hate reality TV.” (Andy is responsible for those “Real Housewives” shows, among others.) He said, “That’s OK. You’re not alone. What about Eric McCormack? He wrote a furious letter to Emmy magazine because the Housewives were on the cover. Look, I get it. But … people want it, right now. I don’t have horns and a tail, honest!”

Deborah Harry was there, looking — I kid you not — 25 years old. The last time I saw Debbie, she looked 35. Best thing? She looks just like herself, still. Whatever she’s done/is doing has not altered that face. Debbie was a bit frazzled, as she’d just lost her cell phone. Return an icon’s cell and get a big, juicy kiss. (OK, Debbie made no such promise, but a little peck on the cheek, for sure.) And, yes, she’ll be back in the studio soon, making music.


Debbie Harry © Getty Images

Talk of cell phones, e-mails and computers led producer Wendy Finerman to tell of a new device that makes one think, and think again, before you press "send." (Perhaps a flashing red light and a siren screaming, “Think, you idiot!”) Finerman and Stanley Tucci (hands down the sexiest man in the room) exchanged horror stories of forwarding e-mails one never intended the recipient to see. Everybody waxed nostalgic over … faxes! “Yes!” said Stanley, “Remember the wonder of faxes. How great and immediate it seemed. Now, with everybody on their cell, you get bad news instantly, and so much sooner than you want. At least with faxes there was still a bit of anticipation, you know, waiting for the paper to slowly spit out!”


Stanley Tucci © Getty Images

When somebody at the table piped up that he did not even own a cell phone, the table fell quiet. But Steve Buscemi reached over, shook the guy’s hand and said, “Congratulations and don’t back down.”