This Friday night, Woody Harrelson showed his debut groundbreaking film “Lost in London” and a metered conversation followed in the Great Hall.

For me, “Lost in London” was a comedy that taught everyone in the audience a lesson about life, love, and how to break an ashtray. The situational comedy had the audience laughing at awkward situations, well timed one-liners, and the misfortunes of Harrelson’s horrible night in London.

However, the actual night was not very fun for Harrelson, and for good reason. The movie, opening to a scene where an unknown conflict is introduced, leaves the viewer constantly surprised at just how bad a night someone can have.

From puking in a girl’s face to your wife finding out you stepped out on her, Harrelson leaves the audience relieved in the end. I was left with a collection of lessons that ranged from happiness to misfortune. I left with lessons on second chances, relationships, and about life in general.

Cinematography was amazing for the duration of the film. The whole film was shot in one take, one camera, and one camera man. The few points where the camera was wobbling were the natural points in the movie. Sound for the most part was great, but a few minor instances with garbled words were present and expected in a live broadcast.

The metered conversation after the movie started about thirty minutes after the end of the film, but the hall just seemed to fill even more. I had originally thought the amount of people who saw the film was incredible, but the numbers that attended the conversation were even more impressive.

According to Harrelson, he has “always wanted to combine theater and film,” but it didn’t come easy. His directorial debut almost didn’t happen, but with the help of good friend Owen Wilson, he was convinced to go through with the project.

The questions asked by students and guest alike were of a wide variety. Many focused on different movies or TV shows Harrelson performed in, and a few were purely random. The audience learned how Harrelson just doesn’t eat twinkies, and he can slam dunk, if the rim is at 9.5 inches.

“I always find about these movies, the best thing about them is the people you hang out with,” Harrelson said.

While many of the questions were on past films and co-stars, my favorite responses were generated by the hard questions to answer. For instance, when asked if knowing the behind the scenes of a movie distracts from his enjoyment, Woody had an amazing answer.

“I’ll just get sucked into the story, the heart of the story,” Harrelson said. No matter if it is theater or the movies, the story seems like the most important thing in Harrelson’s mind, and in my opinion, that is exactly how it should be.

Harrelson left us with a gem of a story. It was about a boy who loved Elvis, and he was asked by a football player to perform a song in the middle of the library. By the time the boy was done, the whole of the library was applauding the young Elvis impersonator’s table top rendition of “I’m All Shook Up.” That boy was asked to join the school play.

In the end, I left with lessons from that Elvis impersonator, who ended up being Woody Harrelson himself as a child. His movie was awkwardly funny and contained good lessons for the ages.

The conversation yielded some surprising information about a Hollywood star, one who would sing the “Kelly Song” to a fan’s mother while on stage. I came into that night having no predetermined notions, and I left with a full heart.