Anthony “Gilbert” Po, the mastermind behind the first annual Timothée Chalamet Lookalike Contest, was in for a wild ride. What started as a lighthearted joke, with a few “maybe 50” paper signs plastered around the West Village, turned into a full-blown frenzy. Over 100 Chalamet doppelgängers, accompanied by their cheering squads, descended upon Washington Square Park, creating a scene that was both hilarious and slightly overwhelming.
“The event started as a joke,” Po shared, his voice laced with amusement, “and to me, it will be until the very end. But my friends who work on the movie set he’s shooting in Soho told me he was talking about the competition. He knows it’s happening! But I’m not sure if this is the safest place for him to just show up.”
As the crowd buzzed with anticipation, a sea of eager faces, including a student named Lola Wayne Villa who discovered the event through those very posters, the New York City police arrived. “I wasn’t expecting Timothée to be here,” Lola confessed, “but I wanted to see some hot lookalikes.” The crowd grumbled, their excitement tempered with a hint of disappointment. But before things could escalate, Po, who himself bears a striking resemblance to the celebrated actor, mounted his antique bicycle and, with a flourish, declared the competition open.
The Chalamet clones, a diverse mix of eager hopefuls, from those dressed in the signature black of Dune, shouting “I am the Voice from the Outer World! I will lead you to paradise!”, to a solitary Bob Dylan-inspired lookalike and a spirited Willy Wonka complete with a suitcase, followed Po’s lead like a top-hatted Pied Piper. The actor’s appeal, it seemed, transcended the human species, as even a Corgi and a Pug entered the ring, vying for the coveted title.
“I don’t like big crowds,” confessed Kyle, a contestant whose curls cascaded over his eyes, “but my parents read about this in the newspaper and really wanted me to do this. People have filmed me before at the airport thinking I was Timothée.”
The cops, navigating through the shoulder-to-shoulder throng, delivered the news that no one wanted to hear: the Washington Square Park board had issued a cease-and-desist order. The event was moving to a nearby park.
During the relocation, a blonde woman, clearly a savvy entrepreneur, handed out cards featuring her headshot and Instagram handle to all the lookalikes, hoping to capitalize on the Chalamet craze. At the new venue, Po paused the judging and began an impromptu auction of the individual Chalamets, offering fans the chance to secure a date with their favorite lookalike. Two lucky individuals walked away with dates, but the news that one of the chosen men lived in Arkansas triggered a chorus of boos.
Finally, back on track, the final three Chalamets faced a barrage of questions, including “Which Marvel character would you play?” and “What can you say in French?”. But it was Willy Wonka’s suitcase reveal – overflowing with candy, which he proceeded to toss into the excited crowd – that won him the loudest screams and, ultimately, the trophy. It seemed that the crowd, much like the legendary chocolate maker, was susceptible to a little bit of sweet persuasion.
As Willy Wonka, whose real name is Miles Mitchell, soaked up the sun and the glory of his unexpected victory, Po revealed the biggest surprise of the day: an unannounced Chalamet had appeared at Washington Square Park after the event moved locations. The real Timothée Chalamet, not only knew about the event, but had braved the masses to see it for himself.
Hold onto that trophy, Miles. You just shared the spotlight with one of the biggest stars in Hollywood. And that, my friends, is a story you’ll be telling for years to come.
