Full coverage of the Baftas I The Baftas as it happened

It’s cold, it’s wet, it’s a Sunday evening and anyone with an ounce of common sense is curled up on the sofa in front of the fire watching the Baftas from the comfort and safety of their living room.

Or are they? As the crowd outside the Royal Opera House is pelted with rain Rob from Chester stands in a puddle and declares loudly: “I would LOVE to get Daniel Craig’s autograph. That would be the icing on the CAKE!”

Rob is no amateur. As the increasingly bedraggled stars hobble as fast as their heels will carry them into the warmth to collect their Baftas, journalist after journalist is denied an interview, presumably due to the adverse weather conditions.

But Rob is no shrinking violet and shrieks more loudly than all the film crews and reporters put together: “ANGELINA, PLEASE! I’VE COME ALL THE WAY FROM LIVERPOOL!” The cry is like that of an animal in terrible pain, but very effective.

Will Angelina Jolie grant The Times ten seconds of her time? Not today. Will she sign Rob’s picture, brush against his blue anorak and make small talk with him? Yes.

And it’s the same with Daniel Craig. Instead of the media, Craig is drawn to the over-enthusiastic pack of competition winners, autograph hunters and general anoraks who are pushing, shoving and pleading with the stars to sign their soggy bits of paper.

Rob tells Daniel: “You know what, I love James Bond.” Craig smiles for a minute then says to Rob: “I quite like it as well.” Quite how this ebullient, pushy anorak has managed to strike up a rapport with international sex-symbol Daniel Craig is baffling, but he has. “It would be the icing on the cake if I could have a photo with you,” Rob reminds Craig and everyone else. Daniel consents, and even takes the photo himself. Rob is over the moon.

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