AFP - Iraq war drama "The Hurt Locker" is set for for an Oscars shoot-out with science-fiction epic "Avatar" Sunday as the movie industry descends on Hollywood for the 82nd Academy Awards.
Iraq war drama "The Hurt Locker" is set for for an Oscars shoot-out with science-fiction epic "Avatar" Sunday as the movie industry descends on Hollywood for the 82nd Academy Awards. The Source: RSS feed - channel BNewsEnter | 6 Mar 2010 | 2:59 am
Comedian Kathy Griffin brought her "Life on the D-List" show to Sarah Palin's home state Friday, skewering the former Alaska governor at a raucous show in Anchorage. Griffin was escorted Source: RSS feed - channel BNewsEnter | 6 Mar 2010 | 12:41 am
Reuters - "Precious," the harrowing tale of an incest survivor's struggle for self-acceptance, swept the Spirit Awards on Friday, taking home five prizes at the independent film world's version of the Oscars.
Reuters - "Precious," the harrowing tale of an incest survivor's struggle for self-acceptance, swept the Spirit Awards on Friday, taking home five prizes at the independent film world's version of the Oscars.
Dmitri Shostakovich composed his first opera, "The Nose," more than 80 years ago and based it on a short story written nearly a century before that. Yet few works in the repertory seem... Source: RSS feed - channel BNewsEnter | 5 Mar 2010 | 11:46 pm
AP - Dmitri Shostakovich composed his first opera, "The Nose," more than 80 years ago and based it on a short story written nearly a century before that.
AP - Dmitri Shostakovich composed his first opera, "The Nose," more than 80 years ago and based it on a short story written nearly a century before that.
AP - Dmitri Shostakovich composed his first opera, "The Nose," more than 80 years ago and based it on a short story written nearly a century before that.
NEW YORK (Billboard) - As a former member of Guns N' Roses and Velvet Revolver, Slash knows more than most musicians about what he calls "band drama." Source: RSS feed - channel BNewsEnter | 5 Mar 2010 | 11:32 pm
Sometimes a film, no matter how small the budget or unsettling the subject matter, is like a steam engine roaring down the tracks, and you'd best be getting out of its way.
It's...
DETROIT (Billboard) - Steve Lillywhite wants to "help America find the next Elvis Presley." And that's why the Grammy Award-winning producer -- whose resume includes work with U2, the Dave... Source: RSS feed - channel BNewsEnter | 5 Mar 2010 | 11:12 pm
LOS ANGELES (Billboard) - Director Quentin Tarantino ranks it in the "top three of all rock movies." "Little Steven" Van Zandt proclaims it "the greatest rock movie you've never seen." Source: RSS feed - channel BNewsEnter | 5 Mar 2010 | 10:18 pm
AP - A Los Angeles man accused of stalking Dr. Drew Pinsky and threatening the reality television and radio personality and his family has pleaded not guilty to six felony counts.
Kim Jong Ryul spent 20 years doing business for North Korea's dictators with European firms, before he defected to Austria in 1994. Now he fears for his life after emerging from hiding this Source: RSS feed - channel BNewsEnter | 5 Mar 2010 | 10:05 pm
Mo'Nique won the supporting-actress honor Friday at the Spirit Awards honoring independent film for the Harlem drama "Precious," while Woody Harrelson earned the supporting-actor trophy for Source: RSS feed - channel BNewsEnter | 5 Mar 2010 | 10:00 pm
Tonight we will mostly be not getting into the houses of super agents Bryan Lourd of CAA and Ari Emanuel of William Morris. Foxx with his new Tutankhamun beard and pied-piper-esque group of LA friends will doubtless best us again. If you need us, we'll be sitting outside In-N-Out Burger working on our Ray Charles impressions.
We were not. We sat in the Gawker Oscars Bunker (Motel 6, complete with meth heads, odd motel smell and Hot Pockets), trying to think of something to write about the same old crap. Then we decided to just go to the one party we were invited to—for New York ping pong club Spin—and figure it out later.
Soho House is opening an enclave at the top of a nondescript new office building on Sunset Boulevard. Its official debut is Monday, but until then, we gathered, they are having top-(secret) invite-only parties, the most notable of which is the Weinstein company bash on Saturday. Using the popular internet website www.google.com, we found the address—9200 Sunset, for your reference. Former NBC honcho Ben Silverman, apparently dressed as a Wes Anderson character in a beige blazer and green pants, swept past us. Juliette Lewis, in a black dress, followed suit. As we walked away, Jamie Foxx strolled in with the fawning remnants of the Spin party and a small smile. No howling, but it looked imminent.
Tonight we will mostly be not getting into the houses of super agents Bryan Lourd of CAA and Ari Emanuel of William Morris. Foxx with his new Tutankhamun beard and pied-piper-esque group of LA friends will doubtless best us again. If you need us, we'll be sitting outside In-N-Out Burger working on our Ray Charles impressions.
He said he now lives in the laundry room of a half-built apartment block off Sunset Boulevard. A month or so ago he had an idea. Around 7pm each night he goes to every hotspot in Hollywood and Beverly Hills—"the hotels, the [Chateau] Marmont especially, the clubs"—and joins the paparazzi pack. When celebrities emerge from their shiny cars, in a cloud of cologne and entitlement, he blocks the cameramen and helps these buffoons in dubloon-stuffed pantaloons enter the venue as best he can. "They tip big sometimes," he explained, eyeing a sky blue BMW X6, with the Vanity Fair logo on its back doors, just in case. "I don't kid myself. It's not because they're grateful. It's because it gets them in the tabloids and makes them look good." Heidi and Spencer Pratt gave him a crisp $100 bill, posing all the while. Brody Jenner gave him $50. Winona Ryder and Jason Bateman were less generous, with $5 each. "Last week some dude at the Marmont said 'everyone thinks I'm a tight ass, so here,' and handed me $200 from this huge wad," he shrugged. "Someone told me it was Britney Spears' attorney."
"I plan to be everywhere this weekend," said Kevin. We asked him if he had a drug habit or a history of mental health issues. "I used to take drugs when I was in music but now I can't afford them," he said. At that point, a celebrity that we could not recognize stepped out of a tinted Mercedes. "Hey honey," shouted one boisterous pap, "get them nanas out!" Kevin rushed to her aid, but couldn't stop the flashbulbs popping. She didn't notice him. "Make that money! Make that money!" yelled the photographer, equally oblivious, looking at his shots on the LCD screen in the back of his camera as the starlet/model/reality TV person disappeared into the club. Kevin had missed his chance. But he returned to his spot to wait for the next one. [Full disclosure, we gave him $5. This probably doesn't count as paying a source, but still.]
He said he now lives in the laundry room of a half-built apartment block off Sunset Boulevard. A month or so ago he had an idea. Around 7pm each night he goes to every hotspot in Hollywood and Beverly Hills—"the hotels, the [Chateau] Marmont especially, the clubs"—and joins the paparazzi pack. When celebrities emerge from their shiny cars, in a cloud of cologne and entitlement, he blocks the cameramen and helps these buffoons in dubloon-stuffed pantaloons enter the venue as best he can. "They tip big sometimes," he explained, eyeing a sky blue BMW X6, with the Vanity Fair logo on its back doors, just in case. "I don't kid myself. It's not because they're grateful. It's because it gets them in the tabloids and makes them look good." Heidi and Spencer Pratt gave him a crisp $100 bill, posing all the while. Brody Jenner gave him $50. Winona Ryder and Jason Bateman were less generous, with $5 each. "Last week some dude at the Marmont said 'everyone thinks I'm a tight ass, so here,' and handed me $200 from this huge wad," he shrugged. "Someone told me it was Britney Spears' attorney."
"I plan to be everywhere this weekend," said Kevin. We asked him if he had a drug habit or a history of mental health issues. "I used to take drugs when I was in music but now I can't afford them," he said. At that point, a celebrity that we could not recognize stepped out of a tinted Mercedes. "Hey honey," shouted one boisterous pap, "get them nanas out!" Kevin rushed to her aid, but couldn't stop the flashbulbs popping. She didn't notice him. "Make that money! Make that money!" yelled the photographer, equally oblivious, looking at his shots on the LCD screen in the back of his camera as the starlet/model/reality TV person disappeared into the club. Kevin had missed his chance. But he returned to his spot to wait for the next one. [Full disclosure, we gave him $5. This probably doesn't count as paying a source, but still.]
After last week’s dive down the virtual rabbit hole into New Cap City, we’re back on Caprican soil, where the residents of the 12 colonies continue to machinate in the service of their own petty ends as though the planet isn’t about to be decimated by killer robots fifty years hence. We’ve been impressed over the last two shows with how well Caprica picks up and weaves together a growing number of threads without getting tangled up. But in the middle of all this sophisticated narrative development, we missed the show’s usual goofy/fantastical bent. Especially with two new villains in town.
Dream Crusher, come crush my dreams
Early in the season it seemed like Daniel’s nemesis was Joseph Adama — and then it was the media machine, then his company’s corporate board. But clearly the man Daniel should have been keeping an eye on was Tauron business tycoon Tomas Vergis.
In the pilot, Daniel coerced Joseph into getting the Tauron mob to steal a meta-cognitive processor from the Vergis Corporation, his competition for the defense contract, to give his Cylon body a brain. Now Vergis shows up at a party (at the Caprica City version of the Temple of Dendur) seeking revenge for the theft and the two men Daniel’s hired help killed in the process.
We’re treated to a lot of voiceovers and nightmares and one scene of Daniel hacking at a cucumber, all meant to show us that he’s struggling with the blood on his hands from the killings. But it seems like what’s really getting under his skin is his inability to figure out Vergis’s angle. Rather than expose Daniel as a murderer or punish Joseph, Vergis tells Daniel he wants to buy out his professional Pyramid team, the Buccaneers, for $300 million cubits. Seems terribly convenient now that Graystone Industries is so strapped for cash.
Vergis gets himself on Sarno’s late night talk show to smooth over the idea of foreign ownership of the Buccs. And his spin — as well as the show’s depiction of the spin — are pitch perfect. Sarno only gestures at the populist zeal he had a couple weeks ago. He’s just happy to try to repeat the ratings boost and Vergis is happy to get a platform. There’s even some allusions to post-9/11, with Vergis saying "we’re all Capricans" in the wake of the MagLev bombing.
Daniel thinks he sees through “the cagey bastard” and invites Vergis over to gloat. But Daniel was so very wrong. Turns out Vergis wasn’t try to buy the Buccs to seem Caprican and win back the defense contract. It was merely step one in Operation Annihilate Daniel Graystone. “You get to be the puppetmaster with the professional ballclub and your inner ten-year-old runs around with the joy of it ... It’s your dream. My dream is to tear up your dream.” Daniel almost chokes on some salted nuts.
Spike’s back, and he’s just as bloody
Keon goes down to the docks to ask STO operative Barnabus to help Lacy get to the safehouse on Gemenon with the Zoebot. We’ve been hearing a lot about Barnabus. The anonymous STO higher-up thinks he’s been setting off the bombs, Clarice thinks he’s not righteous. Finally he emerges — and, be still our loins, it’s Spike from Buffy! He’s not a vampire anymore, but the leather fetish is intact. And now he’s also into self-flagellation. “Pain keeps our brain from going down bad paths,” he tells Keon as he winds a spiked rope around his wrist. (Why are zealots so into making themselves bleed??) He agrees to meet with Lacy, but shuts her down when she won’t say what the cargo is.
In other cracked-out terrorist news, one of sister Clarice’s husbands brings her some bleeding-edge tech called a swipe drive. If the program that Zoe used to build her avatar is stored on a computer somewhere, they can download it onto the device and then use the two to create living avatars for any dead person. Tsk, task, Clarice corrects them, “It’s not just a living avatar. It’s a continuation of the soul into eternity.” So that’s what the apotheosis prophecy was all about. Kinda disappointing. Clarice pays a visit to Castle Graystone, knocks back some scorpion ambrosia with the clueless Amanda, and manages to worm her away into the lab and steal the program. Then she smokes some more crack. But Nestor tucks her into bed anyways.
Parents just don’t understand
Our favorite part of Joseph Adama’s subplot was his bungled attempt to get to New Cap City to find Tamara’s avatar. He buys a Graystone Industries-issued holoband just like every other schlub, but he’s startled when he logs in to find Daniel’s avatar squawking at him like the MovieFone guy. “Welcome to Virtual Graystone Industries!” he says, tipped forward like Serge the robo-butler. “I don’t need menus! Take me to the hacked world!” Joseph barks back. This is the V world equivalent of opening up your browser window and yelling “Porn!”
One giant step for man-robot love
While everyone else was falling apart, Philomon and the Zoebot were coming together. After their dance party for two, Philo is starting to wonder if any real girls will get him the way the Cylon does. “12 Planets and not one woman is interested in me,” he complains to the Zoebot after checking a dating website, “But what would I say if I checked robots? Hmm.” Zoebot, maybe feeling like she can’t hold out for hotties like Ben now that she’s a one-ton, six-foot-tall metal skeleton, sends him a message asking him out. When they meet in the virtual world, Philo doesn’t seem to mind that his new date looks like the boss’ dead daughter. We suspect she’s ultimately only in it to hitch a ride to Gemenon, but maybe those crazy kids will make it work!
Our wish list for next week: more Barnabus, another visit to New Cap, and scenes of Vergis going after the only thing Daniel can’t bear to part with: his wife.
AP - Sultry Amazons in negligees and jodhpurs and modern-day Nefertitis in identical blunt-cut black wigs skulked Paris' catwalk on Friday, as the French capital's fall-winter 2010-11 ready-to-wear shows moved into an exhilarating day three.
Tony Dovolani couldn't snag a disco ball with reality-TV sweetheart Melissa Rycroft. But he has high hopes for reality-TV...er, um...Kate Gosselin!
"Although we have only had a...
Adorable duo Carey Mulligan and Shia LaBeouf may be puckering up in public, but she told me she won't be walking the red carpet with him on Sunday at the Oscars.
So who will she...
Being the butt of a joke should be nothing new for Sarah Palin—except this time, it's not for her politics.
Following news that S.P. had a bad case of the gimmes at the...
Reuters - Drive-By Truckers know all about big to-dos, whether it's releasing a full-blown "Southern Rock Opera" or such sweeping conceptual pieces as "The Dirty South" and their last studio album, 2008's "Brighter Than Creation's Dark." By those standards the band's latest release, "The Big To-Do," is a modest affair: a collection of unconnected -- though certainly related -- songs that traverse all sorts of Southern terrain and situations. Source: Yahoo! News: Entertainment Reviews | 5 Mar 2010 | 6:06 pm
Denial isn't just the first stage of the grieving process. It's also a common legal defense.
An overzealous Dr. Drew Pinsky fan pleaded not guilty Friday to stalking and five...
Who needs American Idol when this week's batch of eliminees comes handy with a second—and equally awesome—skill set? As they told reporters Friday afternoon, singing is their...
This coming Sunday night, starting at 7:00 pm, join us for LIVEBLOGGING THE OSCARS, featuring myself, Anthony from The Fab Life, and YOU! And I don’t mean “you” in that hypothetical “everyone can contribute” way — I mean that only you, the person reading this, have literally just been hired by us to help liveblog the Oscars! Alright, I did mean it in an “everyone can comment” kind of way. But we don’t get paid either, if that helps.
Where’s Michelle, you ask? You are one disingenuous-ass commenter, commenter that I made up (I’ll call you “Mary Disengenuo”). Well, Mary, Michelle will be too busy hosting her own live, in-person Oscar party at the 92Y Tribeca in New York. So if you require actual human contact to enjoy your Oscar-watching, and are near New York city, you can go there.
If not, you’ll have to settle for inhuman, distant, digital contact with yours truly! To make it more intimate, I will be Chat Roulette masturbating the entire time I’m liveblogging, which you won’t be able to watch, but it’ll come across in the tone of my writing. Plus I have literally hundreds of awesome jokes prepared about the documentary short China’s Unnatural Disaster: The Tears of Sichuan Province. That sucker’s gettin’ SO ROASTED Sunday night.
With just two days to go until the Oscars, the weary award-season grumbling is reaching its peak, and right on schedule. People whine that the awards season is dull, stretched out so long that there are no longer any surprises. They moan that this year the acting awards are already locked up, and the Academy is going to give Best Picture to a film that opened seven months ago — boooring. But here's where the complainers need to realize just what the Oscars have done. Yes, things seem predictable now, but that's only because for months folks like us have been analyzing every minuscule detail, leaked e-mail, and acceptance speech. If you look more closely, you'll see that this year has proved full of surprises, and called attention to movies that would normally be ignored. In other words: The Oscar system worked.
You can bet Danny DeVito's little bag of carrots that most people had never heard of Christoph Waltz back in June, and just thought of Mo'Nique as that corny comedienne from Phat Girlz. Now everyone paying attention knows exactly what these two actors can do, and the heat generated by Mo'Nique's performance helped bring audiences to see her hard-to-sell indie, Precious. And The Hurt Locker's supposed lock? The idea that a film like this can even become a front-runner while making just $12 million in a year where Avatar made box-office history is, indeed, shocking. When it proved a dud at the box office last September, everyone expected it to get blown out of the water by the bloated, hype-heavy Oscar bait ahead (remember The Lovely Bones?). But it didn't. In all likelihood, the Academy is about to hand Best Picture to a great film with an indie heart that grossed several times less than any other Best Picture in history. Even if a Great Leonopteryx swoops down into the Kodak Theater and swallows Jeremy Renner whole, this film has won, because more people will see it.
And what if the Academy anoints Avatar, a movie that doesn't need anyone else to go see it? Then they'll be justly championing one of the most successful and innovative films in history, one that fits two genres that never win: action movies and effects spectacles. Step back a bit and consider that a 3-D, mostly animated sci-fi film about blue alien New Agers might actually win Best Picture. In the great cosmic Tree-of-Souls scheme of things, that should count as a pretty major surprise, especially because so many people were predicting it would flop in early December.
The Oscar hype machine — and that's all these awards have ever been — worked for the common good. Excellent movies that too few people saw (from District 9 to Hurt Locker) are now on everyone's Netflix lists. Previously unknown actors (from Waltz to Carey Mulligan) who deserve respect are getting it. Kathryn Bigelow might not have to go seven years between green-lights again. Enjoy the show!
That is, unless The Blind Side and Sandra Bullock pull off their own surprises. Then perhaps it's time to go back to grumbling.
As if the swelling ranks of the media's unemployed didn't have it hard enough, now they have to compete against a superhero for work. In an upcoming issue of Marvel Comics' Amazing Spider-Man, Peter Parker, longtime photographer, gets fired by his boss, J. Jonah Jameson — making him just another out-of-work professional in an industry that already has more than its share.
The firing reconnects Spidey with his hardscrabble roots, and reminds readers that Peter Parker — unlike brother-from-another-planet Superman or tortured millionaire Bruce Wayne — has always been a normal guy. An extraordinary Joe, sure, but he grew up in Queens, stumbled into his superpowers, and has long struggled to pay the bills.
For much of his photojournalism career, Parker was, essentially, a permalancer for the Daily Bugle; his requests for an advance were always laughed out of the office by old-school newsman Jameson. Recently, Spidey's non-crime-fighting life has taken a turn for the better. JJJ sold the Bugle and ran for office, and Peter Parker hit the jackpot, tiger — careerwise — when he scored a sweet in-house gig as the official photographer for newly elected Mayor Jameson. In next week's issue, No. 624 (!), however, the bottom will fall out of the Peter Parker business, as Jameson reportedly catches Parker doctoring a photograph and gives him the boot. (That Parker's doing it to clear his boss's name after a frame-up is beside the point, apparently.)
Marvel's trying to spin the story line as a hard-hitting ethical drama. "It's actually about Parker sacrificing his journalistic integrity," editor Steve Wacker told USA Today. That's a laugh, though, considering that since Spider-Man’s second issue, Peter Parker has been selling pictures of himself, in a funny costume, to newspapers. And not to get too nerdy here, but Parker has doctored photos before, as long ago as ASM Nos. 4 and 9. Oh, that was too nerdy?
But the ethical angle is far less fun than using Peter Parker's firing as an opportunity to comment on the current job market for seasoned media vets. Parker may look young, after all, but he’s an old-media dinosaur who sold his first photo in 1962. And the outlook for newspapers is even grimmer in Spidey's Manhattan than in ours. The New York Times may be in hock to a Mexican gazillionaire, but the Bugle had to ask for a government bailout. And while the Times may be struggling to support its fancy new building, at least the building is still standing; the Daily Bugle's all-glass office tower was completely destroyed by Electro in December.
So what's next for a jobless Peter Parker? He might be able to web-swing from interview to interview, but if he can't get hired at the Bugle's competitors (the Daily Globe and Frontline magazine, of course — wait, still too nerdy?), he's going to have to make one of those midstream career changes faced by so many bought-out and laid-off newspeople. One can imagine Spidey the paparazzo, clinging to West Village brownstones, ambushing Gwyneth and her brood. Or Professor Parker, adjuncting in some art-school darkroom, teaching eye-rolling undergrads raised on digital how to develop film.
"We're going to go as low as possible for both the man and the hero," said Marvel’s Wacker. Yikes, what does that mean? Could longtime print man Peter Parker be headed ... online? Will he start shooting bodega openings for a hyperlocal dot-com start-up? Maybe he can launch an anonymous "behind the mask" blog. Just like every other jobless journo in the city, though, he'd better brush up on his HTML, which you'd think would come easily — the spider's natural home, of course, being the web.
The Post's Michael Riedel, who broke the story Wednesday that Disney's Dumbo is being adapted for Broadway, reports today that Stevie Wonder has been approached to write songs for the show, but "he has reservations because of the 'racist' aspects of the old movie." Stephen Daldry will direct and Bobby Steggert will star as the lead elephant. The crows will be played by John Mayer's penis. [NYP]
From left: Nina Ricci, Issey Miyake, RM by Roland Mouret.
Check out full-screen slideshows of the latest collections from Paris, from Nina Ricci's demure floral prints to Issey Miyake's neon knits. Plus, zoom in on the best hairstyles, accessories, and embellishments in our details galleries. (You know you want a closer look at those bouffants.)
Is the proof in the put-down?
Accused of aiding in the assault of three guys who asked for his autograph in 2006, Kid Rock testified Friday in Los Angeles Superior Court that, first of...
Tom Ford has confirmed he'll launch womenswear under his namesake label. In October he announced he was looking for financing, and everyone in fashion who's been positively shvitzing over his return to the ladies' market wondered and hoped he'd come back for fall 2010. Seeing as the fall 2010 shows are almost over, that's evidently not happening. But WWD has heard Ford is quietly recruiting womenswear designers, and may have an accessories specialist onboard.
But before he can get back to showing women where their boobs ought to be, Ford has a few penguin suits to worry about. He's dressing Oscar hosts Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin for the live telecast. Surely other nominees and attendees will wear his suits, too.
Martin and Baldwin will wear:
... Tom Ford black, single-breasted tuxedos with grosgrain peak lapels, white pique front shirts, as well as black grosgrain cummerbunds and bow ties. And Baldwin apparently has a costume change, as WWD has learned he’ll also be wearing a navy blue, single-breasted tuxedo with a grosgrain peak lapel at some point during the ceremony.
Oh wow, a black suit and a navy suit! Ballsy fashion moves, Baldwin! Women's clothes are definitely more exciting. Maybe that's why Tom is moseying on back to us.
Reuters - If green is the color of hope, John Galliano's latest collection for Dior perfectly captured the mood at Paris fashion week Friday as designers and fans dared to show optimism. Source: Yahoo! News: Fashion News | 5 Mar 2010 | 3:46 pm
No Academy Awards have yet been distributed, but perhaps the year’s biggest Oscar upset has already happened. We’re talking, of course, about the nomination of a small little Irish animated film, The Secret of Kells, for Best Animated Feature, beating out several well-reviewed studio blockbusters. But to anyone who’s seen the film, its nomination should come as no surprise — it looks fantastic, with character design that recalls illuminated medieval manuscripts, and it features an old-fashioned, snark-free quest story line that recalls classic fairy tales and children’s books. It’s also a genuine labor of love — the brainchild and handiwork of 33-year-old Irish animator Tomm Moore, who has been working on it for years. (He told us he first had the idea for the film in 1999.) We spoke to Moore during his recent visit to the U.S., as he prepared to fly out to L.A. for the Oscar ceremony.
Was it a huge surprise when you were nominated for an Oscar?
It was a surprise for everyone. We barely qualified, because we only had a brief qualifying theatrical run in Los Angeles and New York last year, and I guess enough people saw it and liked it. We were shocked, really.
So you didn’t have an Oscar campaign?
No campaign. It was just word of mouth. Friends and supporters in L.A. made sure they told as many people as they could about it. I went to one of the screenings. I had won the Roy Disney award at a festival in Seattle, and I’d gone to pick that up. And I flew down to do a Q&A at a screening in Burbank, and I was surprised that it was packed — a lot of animators from all the studios were there, and they had loads of questions. I began to think that maybe we had some support in L.A.
It’s an interesting category this year, almost as if each type of animation is represented — you’ve got the 3-D film in Coraline, you’ve got the stop-motion Fantastic Mr. Fox, the Pixar computer animation, the return of the traditional Disney hand-drawn film
It’s a broad category, but I’m glad it exists. Animation is a very broad medium. Whenever I watch a stop-motion film, I always scratch my head at how much work it must have been to deal with all those puppets and all those tiny little movements. It’s really tactile and beautiful, a really great format, but it’s very different from my job, which is to spend hours and hours at a drawing board. But I’m delighted to be in a category this year which features such a beautiful computer film by Pixar (of course, they’re all beautiful) and some really beautiful stop-motion and hand-drawn animation. And I’m also happy that Up is nominated for Best Picture, because it really is a very strong film.
The Secret of Kells is fascinating in the way it utilizes different types of design. Even though it’s all hand-drawn animation, it feels like a hybrid of different styles.
We do mix some things, but in truth, we were trying to find our own style — an Irish style of animation. And because we were working with a limited budget, we had to be very creative in how we pulled it off. We were looking at medieval art, mainly. In a lot of pre-Renaissance art there’s very little perspective, and I think it really lends itself to the flat frame. We wanted to get further and further from the American and Japanese influences that you see in animation these days.
What was your inspiration for the film?
We were looking at the Book of Kells itself, which is kind of the high point of Irish art and visual art, from the ninth century. It’s still on display in Trinity College in Dublin. It’s survived all sorts of fighting, attacks, and different things. Everybody’s familiar with Celtic designs, which show up in pubs or tattoos or album covers or whatever. But all of that really started out in the Book of Kells. There’s an amazing history, lots of legends and stuff surrounding it, and we thought, there’s got to be a movie in there somewhere.
The story itself feels old-fashioned, in a good way. It’s a very earnest tale of a journey — almost like a throwback to the animated films of some decades ago.
We were working independently and didn’t have to answer to any studio or corporation, and we wanted to make it feel like those fairy tales, but still keep it universal. We were inspired by the really old Disney stuff, which have a lot of light and dark stuff in them, like Bambi. We weren’t afraid to give it that kind of earnestness. We didn’t want to be too clever or tongue in cheek. We didn’t want that Shrek kind of mentality.
Ironically, it also has a genuine sense of visual wonder, which everyone says is increasingly hard to create in a world where computers make everything possible.
There is something about giving life to drawings that I think people appreciate, the way they might appreciate a children’s illustration or an old book. There’s something special about it. And you don’t really get that with photo-realistic animation. Hand-drawn animation had been declared dead around the time we started working on this movie, and I felt very strongly that there was so much that it could still do.
What are you working on nowadays?
I’ve been working on a new feature film for the past sixteen months, actually. It’s called The Song of the Sea. It’s about a little girl who’s a selkie, which is a creature in Irish folklore who can be either human or a seal. She’s lost in the city and has to find her way back to the sea. We’re hoping the financing will come together faster this time, especially after the nomination. It took us nearly six years to find the financing for Kells; I first had the idea in 1999, when I was still in college.
Ron Burkle and Bill Clinton used to go together like peanut butter and jelly, bread and butter, unprotected sex and gonorrhea. They were bros before that word was even in vogue, having met in 1992 on the Democratic fund-raiser circuit. After that they were always together, doing guy things: They hit the links. Had sleepovers at one another's palatial estates. Flew around the world in Burkle's private jet, spreading the message of peace, love, and diplomacy (especially to the ladies). After Clinton left office, Burkle even gave him a job at his Yucaipa company, so they could hang out even at work! But in 2007, something changed. They stopped hanging out so much. At the time, it was said that Clinton had distanced himself from Burkle because Hillary was running for president, and Burkle's swinging bachelor lifestyle — and Yucaipa's involvement with fraudulent Vatican representative Raffaello Follieri — seemed, if not exactly unsavory, less than presidential. But now, three years later, Burkle finally gives his side of the story to Business Week.
First of all, he was the good guy in the relationship.
"When Clinton left the Presidency he had to make money, and there were certain limits on how he could do it," says Burkle. "In that regard, having him work for Yucaipa was the right thing to do. In other ways, it was the dumbest thing I ever did."
Nice guys always finish last! Burkle knows that now.
And the idea that he might be the one who embarrassed Clinton? Well. That's pretty rich.
"If someone wanted to embarrass [Clinton], I got thrown in it, too," says Burkle. "I got all that for free."
By the way, in the end, it was his decision, not Clinton's, to end the relationship.
Why? Because he was bored. "Burkle says he and Clinton don't see much of each other anymore and explains the rupture this way: "Before, every trip with him seemed like a once in a lifetime opportunity. Now I have so many things to do."
Mena Suvari wore a pink sleeveless dress with panels of ruffles to the Third Annual Women in Film pre-Oscar party in Bel Air, California, last night. She styled her hair in a beehive with long bangs framing her face.
• Finally we get a full-length Runaways trailer so we can see what's really going on. Dakota Fanning looks awesome and Kristen Stewart is present, so that's cool. Except that the...
No. 1 may surprise you. Well, no, it won't, because it's one of the most likable movies ever made. 98 percent of critics give it a thousand helium-filled thumbs up. [BestWeekEver]
Four weeks ago, reporter Candy Crowley took over CNN's Sunday political show State of the Union from anchor John King, who will be moving to a weekday show to take over Lou Dobbs's spot. We spoke to Crowley about her new role, and about being a woman on a day of the week, and in a field, dominated by sputtering white men.
So, what are your goals with the new show? What do you hope to do?
I don't think the core of the Sunday genre changes. I think you want to have people on to either explain last week, or to look into next week. Still, one of the things that [CNN president] Jon Klein told me when I got the job was, "I don't want Candy Crowley to do John King's show. I want Candy Crowley to do Candy Crowley's show." And I wish that I could delineate for you what that is. For instance — and this is a small thing — last week we got a smaller table. And it made for a more intimate discussion, which I liked. I have topics that I’ve written out that I think would be nice to cover, but I don’t have specific questions, because I like to listen to the answers and just see where it’s going.
Sometimes it does seem like a big table makes people take turns talking.
It feels very much like I throw a jump ball, and they play the game. And some people can handle that, but just for me, I need to be able to look people in the eye and be close to them.
You are a woman on a day of the week, and in a position, where there aren’t many women. Did you think about that when you took this job?
I didn't. When Jon offered me the job I just thought, "What a good journalistic opportunity. This is gonna be really fun." And then it got announced three days later on the Sunday show. And I didn't really think about the whole female part of it until I started getting all these e-mails. I got this one great e-mail from a young woman, who worked in a small TV station somewhere, saying: "I worked here and I watched you for so long. All of my friends here are so excited to have a woman. I'm going to watch every Sunday, because I think it's so terrific and so about time. Also, it's time for more leopard prints on Sunday." And I just cracked up.
Are women subjected to different standards? You've talked about your appearance before, and whether or not that matters. Do you think that viewers look at women differently than men in this position?
I'm sure they do. I think sometimes it's helpful, and I think sometimes it's not helpful, depending on the viewer. I don't think anyone ever wrote John and said, "That’s a really ugly tie and never wear it again." But I fully expect someone, and it will probably be my mother, will write me and say: "Don't ever wear that again." Maybe there are more hills to climb. But you know, I’ve been a girl all my life, I’ll deal.
Talk to me about what you see as CNN’s focus on reporting. You’re a reporter. John King is a reporter. How is that important to you?
To me, it's wildly important. I have over the years I've been at CNN had people approach me about going other places. And in the end, CNN was doing news. That's what I signed up for. I wanted to find stuff out and tell people about it. I am, believe it or not, a fairly private person. I happen to think what I think about things doesn't really matter. I mean, it matters to me and probably my kids. But I think very often what gets lost is [that] this isn't about you. I think at CNN we make every effort to say: "This is about news, this is about what’s important. This isn't about what we think, it's about giving you the information so that you can think."
Do you think there's a place for that moving forward, especially in the context of the massive success of a network like Fox News?
I do. I'd be scared if I didn't. People need to have a place that they trust. Honestly, in a lot of ways, I think the Internet [has heightened that], despite the fact that it so diffused information and made it so that people can easily get the information that they'd prefer to believe. But I think that to many people, because there's so much out there, they're dying to know where they could go to trust what they’re getting.
I liked the way you pursued Secretary Clinton over exactly what she thought of Hamid Karzai. How do you juggle the need for sound bites and television efficiency with the desire to nail down politicians whose job it is to be evasive and always say the right thing?
Who is going to blink first? I tell you, I'm still working on that. I'm not by nature an interrupter; it may be my Midwest background. But there comes a time when someone goes on and on, that you have to say: "Yes, but let me just " I try to do it in a way that I'm comfortable with it. It’s hard. I think with Secretary Clinton I asked that Hamid Karzai question two times, but then I came back and said: "Do you want to put that question on the table right now?"
It was three times you asked.
Look, the viewer is smart enough to understand that the person is not answering the question. But I still think it’s important to lay it out there and go, "Okay, so you’re not going to answer." Which is perfectly their right! I get why she doesn’t want to say, "No, we really don’t trust Hamid Karzai."
Is there any subject or political issue that you cover that you’re comfortable expressing your opinion over?
Not really. But I will also tell you, I have no burning desire to do it. No journalist is a blank slate. We're all products of how we grew up, all that kind of stuff. I can honestly tell you that the more I cover policy, the grayer I've become in what I believe. It's that "Never criticize a man until you've walked a mile in their shoes" thing. I did a joint interview with Lugar and Leahy a while back. They’re best friends, we’re talking about a liberal from Vermont, a conservative from Indiana, and the stories they have to tell about how they work together on things. They've been to each other's states because they were on the Agriculture Committee together and they wanted to show one another their ag problems. I think it's kind of that same principal applied to being a reporter.
Is that easier, you think, in the Senate because there fewer of them and they are there for longer? Is it harder in Congress?
I think that there are people who definitely bond across party lines, as they say. It is far more difficult in the House. I wish I had the figures with me, but some enormous number of districts have been so redistricted over the last 20-30 years that they are either solidly Democratic or solidly Republican. So there is no percentage in a Democrat from a solidly Democratic district, or a Republican from a solidly Republican district, to talk to each other. They don't have to compromise. They are easily reelected because they take the whole boot.
Michelle Obama played soccer today in D.C. to promote her Let's Move campaign to fight childhood obesity. And she wore workout clothes! They included black boot-cut yoga pants, a black, ruched, relaxed, long-sleeved tunic top, and either a black tank top or sports bra underneath. See the full look in the Michelle Obama Look Book. In other First Lady news, the white one-shoulder Jason Wu gown she wore to the inaugural balls will go on display in the Smithsonian as part of the First Ladies Collection on Tuesday. [AP]
After her sexuality was questioned in the media, "The Real Housewives of Atlanta's" Kim Zolciak wants to set the record straight, and told PEOPLE she's "in a great place" with her as-yet-unnamed, still-not-divorced boyfriend, Big Poppa.
Last night, The Real Housewives of The O.C. came to a dramatic close, and in true amazing Bravo form, it led right into the season premiere of The Real Housewives of New York – kind of like The O.C., but cattier, and more brunette.
As per tradition, I phoned up my dear mother, Judy Collins of Miami, Florida, to get her opinion about both episodes. Judy was in a bit of a rush this evening, as her and my father have a new kitten to attend to.
So let’s begin with the amazing finale of The O.C. Housewives: A Giant Party, Slutty Dresses, Drunk Children and a F**king Divorce.
Judy begins: “The setting was like paradise! Oh my God. I was happy to see Jeanna. And let me tell you: I was so glad that she’s fatter than me. That, I think, made my evening. Here is an ex-Playboy bunny and she’s fatter than me! Now Vicky… that dress… my coworker emailed me and thought it was hot, but I don’t know. Some people think that dimples are pretty. Gretchen? I didn’t like when she came with the white dress and they were making fun of her. So what?? She came to a nice summer party. She’s so beautiful. As dumb as she is, I have to forgive her cause she’s such a beauty. You can’t have everything – and God gave her a body and a face.”
On to Tamra: “Uch, Simon! I only hope that Hitler is going to come and get him. The good side of Hitler, the one that likes the dogs. First of all, I think he got ugly. He used to be cute, but now he’s got tuchus for face. And he really is a jealous disgusting human being. I cannot stand him.”
“Tamra I felt a little bit sorry for her that she’s married to an assh*le like this. I hope that this guy eats sh*t. I wish that this economic downturn will never turn back. And that’s from my good side wishes it on him.”
“Tamra’s dress? I thought it was sensational, and I didn’t think it was that short. I’ve seen her in far more revealing dresses than that. The guy is just nasty. He never tells her when her boobs are hanging out, and she has pretty legs. I thought it was like a sack. He is A D*CK. He deserves nothing but the worst in life.”
“And let’s take care of that assh*le Lynn, who definitely has hay for brains. I want people to do an MRI on her brain, they’re gonna find sh*t in there that nobody else has. Two disturbed f*cked up daughters. And they’ll never get better. They are NEVER gonna get better. I feel very bad for her husband, he’s working for her now. He’s such a nice guy! That to protect them he never said what’s going on in his job. And after she knew!! She had the audacity to spend $1200 to spend on an ugly jacket! People like this should be hung in the OC piazza.”
“I mean how stupid are you, seriously? And Alexis I don’t even want to talk about because… she and her mafioso husband, what a dog ugly… fooy.”
Very insightful, no? But we’re not done. Here is my mother’s more-rambling-than usual recap of The Real Housewives of NY premiere:
“Wow. Let me tell you something. Bethenny’s new boyfriend looks very gay to me.”
“This guy — I’m telling daddy ‘This guy is so gay!’ Daddy said ‘But he impregnated her!’ I said ‘Yeah, but on the way he blew somebody!’ (I break into the conversation to agree with my mother on this point, comparing Bethenny’s boyfriend to one of my mother’s ex-managers, a gay.) “They look exactly alike!! Did you talk to Daddy? Did he tell you I said that? You know, there are apples that don’t fall far from the tree? Your apple is too close to my apple.” (Will repeat this line to my therapist at some point.)
“And Jill’s overbearingness with Bethenny… There was something there yesterday that I totally equated with my relationship with Christina (Ed. Note: A former friend). For Jill to call her 4 times a day, and wanting to with her on vacation — whether the guy is gay or not! Oh, if you go, we’ll come with you? Really? You wanna shove yourself up my ass?? That was Christina. Who can tolerate this after a while? You need a little buffer zone. So I had to start lying to her that we’re going to family on the holidays, if you remember, so she wouldn’t come. I need a friendship where I have to start to lie to you because you are overbearing? (Ed. Note: The previous question is how Jewish people make statements) The best thing that ever happened to me was yanking her out of my life like some cancer.”
“Well first of all, Luanne is a sick human being. I don’t know who Chief Kish Mir In Tuchus is, but what is this Countess business? Who do you call Countess? We live in a democracy!! Real royalty, seriously, they don’t insist that people should call them by their titles, because in the US we don’t bow and we don’t kiss ass to no countess! Where is she from? From Connecticut!! Some Indian town. I’m glad her husband dumped her! She deserved it.” (Way harsh, Mom.)
“I have never seen any of the O.C .girls constantly talk behind the back and bickering like here. And this is the Countess? Where is half a brain? And the one that I hate the most. That Kelly. Oy gevalt. I’m telling you Mr. Ed. Put them side by side! Same face. I’m waiting to see the two new cast members cause maybe there’s half a brain in there somewhere.”
“Bethenny? She doesn’t bother me. She’s a smart girl. She knows how to finagle. You know what, she made something of herself. That countess business has to end ASAP. Seriously.”
“Ramona. Well. As meshuge as Ramona is — and she has crazy eyes — but that Luanne has no business bringing this up on the boat. Mario can’t be normal, he’s married to Ramona, what do you want? And then for Jill to stick her nose – Let Luanne fight her own battles! But these Jews they have to be in everything. She had to stick her nose in everything, why?”
Why, indeed. Thanks for the recap, Mom, totally light-hearted and friendly-spirited as always.
And so he did. But the "fixed" video still doesn't use footage of the tachometer taken while Ross was driving the car as seen in the report. He took a shot of the tachometer from a different test-drive—ABC spokesman Jeffrey Schneider says Ross conducted the test a total of six or seven times—and spliced it into the test that he chose to use for the final broadcast. We could tell immediately from watching the new version that the audio didn't match up, and Schneider confirmed that the shot of the tachometer you see below was not taken while Ross was driving the car in the shot you see below:
So the essential falsehood remains, even after ABC News acknowledged the mistake: Ross' report purports to show him driving a car and the tachometer spiking while he is driving that very car at that very time. What was the Toyota's tachometer doing while Ross was driving the car? We don't know, because ABC News won't show us. First they took a shot from a parked car and tried to pass it off as synchronous with Ross' death ride, and then they took a shot from a moving car and—even more deceitfully, claiming that they were fixing the error—tried to pass that off as having happened during the same drive.
When we asked Schneider why Ross couldn't just show what happened to the tachometer during the shot of Ross driving the car, he paused for at least five seconds. Then he said, "I don't know how that would happen. The tachometer was surging during each test we did, and the video is an accurate portrayal of what happened in the car to the tachometer."
What's more, as you can see from the photo at the top of this post, the parking brake light is still on in the new footage. We can't really figure that one out, though, because the car does appear to be moving.
In any case, don't believe anything Brian Ross tells you, ever, even if it's to correct the last untrue thing he told you. For his part, Schneider would like you to know that our initial characterization of Ross' report as "staged...to make it look scarier" is "a complete and utter lie." So says the expert.
By the way: We're not saying that the test itself was faked. You can actually see from the new video that the speedometer goes up from 10 mph to roughly 30 mph very quickly when the uncommanded acceleration happens. What we're saying is that Ross' report doesn't show what it claims to show. In fact, it is a deliberately arranged collection of footage that is designed to make you think you are being shown something that either doesn't exist or is being deliberately withheld by ABC News—footage of the tachometer that Ross was driving in the report—and is therefore staged. And fake.
And so he did. But the "fixed" video still doesn't use footage of the tachometer taken while Ross was driving the car as seen in the report. He took a shot of the tachometer from a different test-drive—ABC spokesman Jeffrey Schneider says Ross conducted the test a total of six or seven times—and spliced it into the test that he chose to use for the final broadcast. We could tell immediately from watching the new version that the audio didn't match up, and Schneider confirmed that the shot of the tachometer you see below was not taken while Ross was driving the car in the shot you see below:
So the essential falsehood remains, even after ABC News acknowledged the mistake: Ross' report purports to show him driving a car and the tachometer spiking while he is driving that very car at that very time. What was the Toyota's tachometer doing while Ross was driving the car? We don't know, because ABC News won't show us. First they took a shot from a parked car and tried to pass it off as synchronous with Ross' death ride, and then they took a shot from a moving car and—even more deceitfully, claiming that they were fixing the error—tried to pass that off as having happened during the same drive.
When we asked Schneider why Ross couldn't just show what happened to the tachometer during the shot of Ross driving the car, he paused for at least five seconds. Then he said, "I don't know how that would happen. The tachometer was surging during each test we did, and the video is an accurate portrayal of what happened in the car to the tachometer."
What's more, as you can see from the photo at the top of this post, the parking brake light is still on in the new footage. We can't really figure that one out, though, because the car does appear to be moving.
In any case, don't believe anything Brian Ross tells you, ever, even if it's to correct the last untrue thing he told you. For his part, Schneider would like you to know that our initial characterization of Ross' report as "staged...to make it look scarier" is "a complete and utter lie." So says the expert.
By the way: We're not saying that the test itself was faked. You can actually see from the new video that the speedometer goes up from 10 mph to roughly 30 mph very quickly when the uncommanded acceleration happens. What we're saying is that Ross' report doesn't show what it claims to show. In fact, it is a deliberately arranged collection of footage that is designed to make you think you are being shown something that either doesn't exist or is being deliberately withheld by ABC News—footage of the tachometer that Ross was driving in the report—and is therefore staged. And fake.
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So there you have it. The Best Picture Oscar will go to…Avatar. Because it is an unstoppable, lumbering behemoth. But hey, a lot of people liked Up!
When we ran into Abigail Breslin, currently starring as Helen Keller in a revival of The Miracle Worker on Broadway, we asked if she'd ever gotten hurt during one of the play's many fight scenes. "When I was onstage, I broke a doll’s head and I got sliced through my fingers," she told us. "It’s one of those things where you don’t really know what you’re supposed to do, so I was like, all right, I’ll just keep going with the show and hope that people don’t notice. But I think it’s kind of hard to miss when there’s, like, a child bleeding on the ground." See more in our Party Lines slideshow.
With movie stars getting ready for Sunday's Oscars, front rows in Paris are beginning to boast fewer celebrities. Indeed, Anna Wintour, who attended Dior this morning, but not Lanvin later, is thought to have left Paris already for the Oscars. Instead of entertainers, French finance minister Christine Lagarde and industry minister Christian Estrosi sat front-row at Dior along with Dior spokeswoman Charlize Theron. Japanese Vogue's Anna Dello Russo, meanwhile, sat on the floor for unknown reasons.
John Galliano's fall 2010 collection was an evolution of his spring 2010 ridingwear-inspired couture collection. Today's show was inspired by the second earl of Rochester, whom Johnny Depp played in the 2004 film The Libertine, and his many mistresses. Again, Galliano put girls on the runway in long see-through dresses and other lingerie-inspired looks that many designers have given up this season.
Photo: Eric Ryan/Getty Images, Francois Durand/Getty Images, Karl Prouse/Catwalking/Getty Images
Hilary Alexander notes that the hats looked more like Mad Hatter hats than anything, and swooned over Galliano's "fantastical parade of romance and retro" as well as his "most covetable frock-coats since Beau Brummell."
The designer took his bow dressed as Rochester, in a poet's shirt, suede jodhpurs, and riding boots with silver spurs. After the show he posed for a photo with Lindsay Lohan, whom he appears to have dressed in a girlier outfit than she usually wears. She must be missing the Oscars to put the final touches on her Ungaro collection, which walks Monday. So. Get excited.
Oh our beloved Juggs. She didn't do much in this episode. Mostly she showed up to the big end-of-season party with Jim, who was dressed as Zamfir, master of the pan flute. They held court with their stylish beauty, grunting and grimacing, Jim dumping whole platters of shrimp cocktail down his oily gullet. Her mother was there. You remember her mother, the kindly witch who got plastic surgery last week? Yeah, well, she's all healed up! And, well... She just wants to say one thing. Vitches of England? Remove your wigs. That's all. In the end we found out that Jim, dear benevolent Earth Jesus, has given Alexis permission to "work for" her plastic surgeon. They didn't get any more specific than "work for." Which sounds sort of ominous, doesn't it? You know who also "worked for" a doctor? Igor, master of grave-robbery. Not saying, just saying.
Gretchen
Ding dong, wedddingggg belllllssss! Oh, wait, no, sorry. That was just my cellphone ringing. (I want to get married soooo baaad!) Doug and Gretchen went to the party and it sorta looked like he might propose, but of course he didn't. Gretchy had a sad little conversation with long-forgotten Housewife Lauri (of the longer-forgotten druggy problem son) who just didn't think it was remotely feasible that Gretchen and Doug could have a real relationship, because all Doug does is date Housewives and get older and sadder, sadder and older. But Gretchen just smiled perkily through her stiff makeup and said, small but indignant, "No. No. It's serious. No. It's real. Marriage. No." Lauri's face did the best approximation of pity it could and then her mouth apparatus widened slightly — it was trying to smile — and she said "OK. Good, great for you." Gretchen nodded stiffly and walked off and she pretended that everything was good and golden, that life would tumble out the way she wanted it to, this time it would. But apparently it hasn't. That's what the updates said. How sad. How bad. Gretchen. There's a person somewhere named Gretchen.
Vicki
To celebrate surviving a tough year, Vicki decided to go to the party naked. Sure she lashed some yellow fabric around herself, but it didn't really cover much of anything. There was a whole hammy expanse down near the small of her back that was exposed and I hoped that she'd secretly done it to piss off Simon and Jim. But I don't think she's that crafty. I don't think she can see that far past her own strange nose. No, I think she just wanted to look hottt and sexxxy. And, well. I'll let you be the judge of that. Vicki spent a good portion of the party comforting a bereft Tamra, who we'll get to in a moment, and she said good things. She said nice things that Tamra needed to hear. Hard truths, all that stuff. Vicki isn't awful, just kinda awful. No italics. Vicki has lost her italics this season. That's progress.
Lynne
Holy thunderfuck, what a mess. What a downright, filthy, pigshit mess Lynne and her hubby, Hubby, have made of everything. Broke as church mice, drugged and stupid, with two horrifying Hindenburg daughters. And they don't really do anything to try and fix it, ever. They propose healing vacations for their money woes. They limply swat their daughters' hands away from alcohol and then walk away, turn their backs, when the girls show up drunk and underage (well, one of them at least) to a social event that will air on national television. Ugh. Yes, Alexa and Racquel showed up drunk to the little garden party (what a devil's bargain the St. Regis hotel has signed...) and were all woo-hoooing and being obnoxious and thinking everyone cared. No one cared. People murmured some things about the girls being drunk, but no one really seemed all that scandalized. (Except for Gretchen, oddly.) Mostly people were just like "Oh, look. That teenager is drunk and swearing in front of her parents. Huh." Lord in heaven. If I had ever tried something like that... I am twenty-six years old and still get the stinkeye from my mom when I pour a second glass of wine at Thanksgiving. But Lynne just sort of frowned and smiled that blubbery smile of hers and it was just so pathetic. Please, someone put her in a home. She's done with the normal world. Her brain has been barraged by pills to the point that it's just thin cottage cheese. Lynne's pill-zapped brain is just a sad dead cat by the side of the road. Lynne's brain is Vicki's face.
And her daughters. Her awful daughters. I'm glad that Bravo got all snide with their updates. Racquel is "Still not over it!" Hah. Alexa couldn't get a car. Ha. What sour little bitches, especially Alexa. I know her parents didn't do right by her, did terrible by her, but still. Insolent little whiner. All the "fuck you" and "I'm drinking!" stuff was unreal. Again, if I had ever, if I ever did now, say those things... Sigh. I don't know what to say. Who was it, was it Vicki? Someone said something about how the girls were almost a lost cause at this point. Should have been disciplined since kindergarten. The late teens are far too late to start. Sigh. How sad. How ugly. "So, how did you enjoy motherhood?" "Oh it was fun 'cause I got to wear their clothes. But I kinda fucked them up forever. Because I was lazy and addicted to painkillers. Want a cuff?" "Oh...that's... uh... I'm going to go look this way now."
Tamra
What a dump. Who said that, George, 'What a dump'? We already knew that Tamra was getting a divorce. The internet tells us such things. But to watch this couple — sad, stuck Tamra, angry dork Simon — rattle the windows like they did last night, well it was kind of unexpectedly harrowing, wasn't it? That scene in the limo (above)! Holy lynneballs was that a crazy ride. "FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE I WANT A FUCKING DIVORCE YOU FUCKING DESPICABLE FUCKING PERSON." Yikes.
And then at the party, Simon getting all nervous and controlling, trying to cleave his pretty blonde arm candy to his side. Not because he cared about her. No, because he wanted to save face. I was kind of bummed to find out that Simon was the one to ultimately file for divorced. I was hoping for some kind of Tina Turner "I Don't Want to Fight" kind of outcome. But oh well. At least she's free. At least there's that.
That was it! The kids said things that were at turns dumb and wanly charming. Everyone blinked in the afternoon sun and if you stood far away, if you turned off the sound, it looked kind of nice. But it really wasn't, not up close, not in truth. What a dark season this has been. Shudder. Oh well. Now it's over.
After the updates flashed across the screen and the guests filed out and the employees packed up all the glasses and booze (our friend Dustin was there, looking happy, he and Cheryl are getting married in the fall), there was a starry stillness. The night clung to the edges of the world and all the Housewives were off in their crumbling mansions, sleeping deeply.
Sleeping so deeply that they did not notice a bright magenta flash streak through the sky. Andy Cohen was calling their souls home, putting them back in his mysterious cabinet. He will release them again, when the time is right.
Thankfully, that time isn't now. It's a time far, far away. Some other mysterious summer. Some other late afternoon. For now there's just this. The crash of waves, the swoosh of birds. New dawns, new dusks. The purr and roar of cars headed east, away from this place, never looking back, the setting sun — burning, oblivious god — hanging angry and lonely behind them.
Oh our beloved Juggs. She didn't do much in this episode. Mostly she showed up to the big end-of-season party with Jim, who was dressed as Zamfir, master of the pan flute. They held court with their stylish beauty, grunting and grimacing, Jim dumping whole platters of shrimp cocktail down his oily gullet. Her mother was there. You remember her mother, the kindly witch who got plastic surgery last week? Yeah, well, she's all healed up! And, well... She just wants to say one thing. Vitches of England? Remove your wigs. That's all. In the end we found out that Jim, dear benevolent Earth Jesus, has given Alexis permission to "work for" her plastic surgeon. They didn't get any more specific than "work for." Which sounds sort of ominous, doesn't it? You know who also "worked for" a doctor? Igor, master of grave-robbery. Not saying, just saying.
Gretchen
Ding dong, wedddingggg belllllssss! Oh, wait, no, sorry. That was just my cellphone ringing. (I want to get married soooo baaad!) Doug and Gretchen went to the party and it sorta looked like he might propose, but of course he didn't. Gretchy had a sad little conversation with long-forgotten Housewife Lauri (of the longer-forgotten druggy problem son) who just didn't think it was remotely feasible that Gretchen and Doug could have a real relationship, because all Doug does is date Housewives and get older and sadder, sadder and older. But Gretchen just smiled perkily through her stiff makeup and said, small but indignant, "No. No. It's serious. No. It's real. Marriage. No." Lauri's face did the best approximation of pity it could and then her mouth apparatus widened slightly — it was trying to smile — and she said "OK. Good, great for you." Gretchen nodded stiffly and walked off and she pretended that everything was good and golden, that life would tumble out the way she wanted it to, this time it would. But apparently it hasn't. That's what the updates said. How sad. How bad. Gretchen. There's a person somewhere named Gretchen.
Vicki
To celebrate surviving a tough year, Vicki decided to go to the party naked. Sure she lashed some yellow fabric around herself, but it didn't really cover much of anything. There was a whole hammy expanse down near the small of her back that was exposed and I hoped that she'd secretly done it to piss off Simon and Jim. But I don't think she's that crafty. I don't think she can see that far past her own strange nose. No, I think she just wanted to look hottt and sexxxy. And, well. I'll let you be the judge of that. Vicki spent a good portion of the party comforting a bereft Tamra, who we'll get to in a moment, and she said good things. She said nice things that Tamra needed to hear. Hard truths, all that stuff. Vicki isn't awful, just kinda awful. No italics. Vicki has lost her italics this season. That's progress.
Lynne
Holy thunderfuck, what a mess. What a downright, filthy, pigshit mess Lynne and her hubby, Hubby, have made of everything. Broke as church mice, drugged and stupid, with two horrifying Hindenburg daughters. And they don't really do anything to try and fix it, ever. They propose healing vacations for their money woes. They limply swat their daughters' hands away from alcohol and then walk away, turn their backs, when the girls show up drunk and underage (well, one of them at least) to a social event that will air on national television. Ugh. Yes, Alexa and Racquel showed up drunk to the little garden party (what a devil's bargain the St. Regis hotel has signed...) and were all woo-hoooing and being obnoxious and thinking everyone cared. No one cared. People murmured some things about the girls being drunk, but no one really seemed all that scandalized. (Except for Gretchen, oddly.) Mostly people were just like "Oh, look. That teenager is drunk and swearing in front of her parents. Huh." Lord in heaven. If I had ever tried something like that... I am twenty-six years old and still get the stinkeye from my mom when I pour a second glass of wine at Thanksgiving. But Lynne just sort of frowned and smiled that blubbery smile of hers and it was just so pathetic. Please, someone put her in a home. She's done with the normal world. Her brain has been barraged by pills to the point that it's just thin cottage cheese. Lynne's pill-zapped brain is just a sad dead cat by the side of the road. Lynne's brain is Vicki's face.
And her daughters. Her awful daughters. I'm glad that Bravo got all snide with their updates. Racquel is "Still not over it!" Hah. Alexa couldn't get a car. Ha. What sour little bitches, especially Alexa. I know her parents didn't do right by her, did terrible by her, but still. Insolent little whiner. All the "fuck you" and "I'm drinking!" stuff was unreal. Again, if I had ever, if I ever did now, say those things... Sigh. I don't know what to say. Who was it, was it Vicki? Someone said something about how the girls were almost a lost cause at this point. Should have been disciplined since kindergarten. The late teens are far too late to start. Sigh. How sad. How ugly. "So, how did you enjoy motherhood?" "Oh it was fun 'cause I got to wear their clothes. But I kinda fucked them up forever. Because I was lazy and addicted to painkillers. Want a cuff?" "Oh...that's... uh... I'm going to go look this way now."
Tamra
What a dump. Who said that, George, 'What a dump'? We already knew that Tamra was getting a divorce. The internet tells us such things. But to watch this couple — sad, stuck Tamra, angry dork Simon — rattle the windows like they did last night, well it was kind of unexpectedly harrowing, wasn't it? That scene in the limo (above)! Holy lynneballs was that a crazy ride. "FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE I WANT A FUCKING DIVORCE YOU FUCKING DESPICABLE FUCKING PERSON." Yikes.
And then at the party, Simon getting all nervous and controlling, trying to cleave his pretty blonde arm candy to his side. Not because he cared about her. No, because he wanted to save face. I was kind of bummed to find out that Simon was the one to ultimately file for divorced. I was hoping for some kind of Tina Turner "I Don't Want to Fight" kind of outcome. But oh well. At least she's free. At least there's that.
That was it! The kids said things that were at turns dumb and wanly charming. Everyone blinked in the afternoon sun and if you stood far away, if you turned off the sound, it looked kind of nice. But it really wasn't, not up close, not in truth. What a dark season this has been. Shudder. Oh well. Now it's over.
After the updates flashed across the screen and the guests filed out and the employees packed up all the glasses and booze (our friend Dustin was there, looking happy, he and Cheryl are getting married in the fall), there was a starry stillness. The night clung to the edges of the world and all the Housewives were off in their crumbling mansions, sleeping deeply.
Sleeping so deeply that they did not notice a bright magenta flash streak through the sky. Andy Cohen was calling their souls home, putting them back in his mysterious cabinet. He will release them again, when the time is right.
Thankfully, that time isn't now. It's a time far, far away. Some other mysterious summer. Some other late afternoon. For now there's just this. The crash of waves, the swoosh of birds. New dawns, new dusks. The purr and roar of cars headed east, away from this place, never looking back, the setting sun — burning, oblivious god — hanging angry and lonely behind them.
A source close to the former Tonight Show host tells E!...
This past Monday, NBC aired two new back to back episodes of Law & Order. They weren’t related to each other or anything, but there was definitely one subtle undertone that ran through both I noticed: Anthony Anderson’s character Detective Bernard loves him some porn. There were two separate moments where the guy casually tosses in his appreciation for smut, which we put together right here (sorry for the 15 and/or 30 second ad):
Out magazine had thought of live-blogging the men's red-carpet fashions at the Oscars, "but realized it’d be us typing 'tux tux tux tux and sneakers tux tux ' and so instead imagined a brighter, gayer, more adventurous Oscars, where the stars dressed for entertainment rather than a remake of March of the Penguins." They Photoshopped some of Sunday's male attendees into some fun runway looks. Example: George Clooney in Comme des Garçons. [Out]
Larry King took his first commercial flight since September 11 recently, and the airport security people, sensing a rare opportunity for fame-fondling, took a little advantage when he failed the metal detector test.
"They had to give me the complete body search. So I had to stand there with [my] arms [out], and they are talking with me at the same time, 'loved the show last night, turn over your belt,' and then they grab you by the privates. They examined me pretty good."
But wait: What did they find? Why did Larry set off the alarm? Was he smuggling a load of gold coins and/or is he pierced downstairs? This really raises a lot of questions.
For months now we’ve been following the minutiae of this year's Oscar race, but now it’s almost time for the ceremony itself. We. Are. Pumped. Here’s what you can expect from Vulture on Sunday: a red-carpet live-blog from the Fug Girls kicking off at 6 p.m., complete with a wrap-up slideshow; a live-blog of the awards starting at 8 p.m. with Lane Brown and Dan Kois; and, of course, plenty of obsessive analysis right after the ceremony wraps up, breaking down every award, speech, joke, face-plant, dance sequence, and other embarrassing moment. Get prepped with Vulture’s Official Oscar Pool Ballot, our guide to the still-competitive categories, a preview of the ‘In Memoriam’ montage, our Fantasy Oscar Odds, a look at the forgotten Oscar Sweep, a handicapping of the Shorts categories, a Carey Mulligan vs. Anna Kendrick red-carpet showdown, and our guaranteed (note from legal: not guaranteed) predictions!
Tonight, young tenor Gordon Gietz makes his Metropolitan Opera debut in William Kentridge’s highly anticipated new production of Shostakovich’s The Nose, based on the satiric Gogol story about Kovalyov, a civil servant in St. Petersburg who wakes up one day to find that not only is his nose missing, but it has acquired a higher social rank than his own. Except Gietz isn’t playing Kovalyov (that would be Brazilian baritone Paulo Szot) — he’s playing the Nose itself. It’s an unorthodox major opera debut to be sure, a fact that’s not lost on the lighthearted Gietz. He spoke to Vulture about taking on the role, interacting with the actual nose in the production, and growing up in Canada.
Did you ever in your wildest dreams imagine that you would be playing a nose in your Met debut?
No, no, but it’s been a long time coming. I’ve been wanting to work at the Met for years and years, and they were always looking around for the right project, and we had a couple things — years ago there was a project that looked really promising, and then we got a phone call: “There was a fire in the warehouse and the set burned down.” So, I’m thinking, I’m probably never going to sing at the Met! But this came up, and it was such an interesting show, and the part of the Nose is one of those great parts like Tybalt in Romeo and Juliet — everyone talks about you constantly, but the opera is not resting on your shoulders. Or on your nose, for that matter.
Do you know why they had you in mind for this role?
Well they know I do a lot of unusual music, and I’m known for being able to learn difficult scores. It’s also extremely high, so they wanted a voice that was a full tenor, lyric voice without compromising the top notes. I guess if he had a nasal voice I’d be actually perfect!
What were your thoughts when you first read The Nose?
Well, my first thought was how are they going to put it onstage, because I read the story, not the play, first. You have to accept the absurdity of it — that Kovalyov knows it’s his nose, even though by all appearances I’m a state official. I think they’ve managed to do that in the production, with some scenes of me dressed exactly like Kovalyov, and then other places where there’s a massive nose running all over the place. I love that absurdist element.
I saw a gigantic actual nose in the Met’s carpentry shop. Do you ever get to wear it?
I never get to wear it, unfortunately. I feel a bit ripped off about that. They’ve got a whole troupe of actors and acrobats and such who get to run around wearing it — about four different people get to wear it. And there are various different noses: a full nose, a half-nose, a collapsible nose because he gets trampled at one point. I kept begging, “Please, can I wear the nose at this point?” I just don’t’ have the pull. But I absolutely hung out with the nose. We’ve gone out for drinks. He’s very talkative.
The opera’s sung in Russian, have you taken it upon yourself to learn any fun Russian phrases?
Well, you know, the Russian singers are very serious — and, actually, they’ve mostly wanted to be learning English. One of the Russians the other day came up to me and said (affects strong Russian accent), “Wassup, buttercup?! Mike has been teaching me English expressions!”
You seem like a very proud Canadian. Why were you not singing at the Olympics?
Well, I was tied up with The Nose! Canada is actually a very small country as far as the operatic presence; there’s maybe seven companies of any size. I was lucky, because Calgary-Alberta had a company. If I had grown up in New York, I don’t think I’d be a singer today; here, you’re fighting in such a talent pool. In Calgary and Montreal, if there was something to sing, I was given it, so I could work my way up in a different size pond. And now here I am in the ocean.
Massa says he didn't know about the Ethics investigation until he read about it on the internet. He also takes responsibility for what he characterizes as language that made a staffer "uncomfortable." And then his explanation gets kind weird.
I own this reality. There is no doubt in my mind that I did in fact, use language in the privacy of my own home and in my inner office that, after 24 years in the Navy, might make a Chief Petty Officer feel uncomfortable. In fact, there is no doubt that this Ethics issue is my fault and mine alone. But in the incredibly toxic atmosphere that is Washington D.C., with the destruction of our elected leaders having become a blood sport, especially in talk radio and on the internet, there is also no doubt that an Ethics investigation would tear my family and my staff apart. Some would say that this is what happens when you stand apart from political parties, which I have done. Others will say that this is what happens to a non politician when they go to Washington DC. I want to make something perfectly clear. My difficulties are of my own making. Period. I am also aware that blogs and radio will have a field day with this in today's destructive and unforgiving political environment. In that investigators would be free to ask anything about me going back to my birth, I simply cannot rise to that level of perfection. God knows that I am a deeply flawed and imperfect person.
During long car rides, in the early hours of the evening, late at night and always in private, I know that my own language failed to meet the standards that I set for all around me and myself. I fell short and I believe now, as I have always believed, that it is not enough to simply talk the talk, but rather I must take action to hold myself accountable.
So. It's quite a 2010 we're having, right?
Massa says he didn't know about the Ethics investigation until he read about it on the internet. He also takes responsibility for what he characterizes as language that made a staffer "uncomfortable." And then his explanation gets kind weird.
I own this reality. There is no doubt in my mind that I did in fact, use language in the privacy of my own home and in my inner office that, after 24 years in the Navy, might make a Chief Petty Officer feel uncomfortable. In fact, there is no doubt that this Ethics issue is my fault and mine alone. But in the incredibly toxic atmosphere that is Washington D.C., with the destruction of our elected leaders having become a blood sport, especially in talk radio and on the internet, there is also no doubt that an Ethics investigation would tear my family and my staff apart. Some would say that this is what happens when you stand apart from political parties, which I have done. Others will say that this is what happens to a non politician when they go to Washington DC. I want to make something perfectly clear. My difficulties are of my own making. Period. I am also aware that blogs and radio will have a field day with this in today's destructive and unforgiving political environment. In that investigators would be free to ask anything about me going back to my birth, I simply cannot rise to that level of perfection. God knows that I am a deeply flawed and imperfect person.
During long car rides, in the early hours of the evening, late at night and always in private, I know that my own language failed to meet the standards that I set for all around me and myself. I fell short and I believe now, as I have always believed, that it is not enough to simply talk the talk, but rather I must take action to hold myself accountable.
So. It's quite a 2010 we're having, right?
After the House Ethics Committee announced that they were officially investigating New York congressman Eric Massa last night, word emerged from Massa's office that he plans to resign on Monday. He'd initially announced that he would retire after the expiration of his first and only term in the House. It's unclear whether the resignation has to do with a cancer scare from this past December, or with reports (which Massa dismisses as "unsubstantiated") that the ethics investigation centers around sexual harassment of a male junior aide. Either way, Massa's exit is going to be another serious loss for the Democratic caucus in the House — his district of Corning, New York, is right-leaning and already has Republican candidates waiting in the wings.
Massa now has a statement up on his website, part of which we've reproduced here:
After I decided not to run again I was told, for the first time, that a member of my staff believed I had made statements that made him feel “uncomfortable.” I was told that a report had been filed with the Congressional Ethics Committee. At no point prior to this had any member of the Ethics Committee communicated with me directly - if fact I first read it on the internet. I own this reality. There is no doubt in my mind that I did in fact, use language in the privacy of my own home and in my inner office that, after 24 years in the Navy, might make a Chief Petty Officer feel uncomfortable. In fact, there is no doubt that this Ethics issue is my fault and mine alone. But in the incredibly toxic atmosphere that is Washington D.C., with the destruction of our elected leaders having become a blood sport, especially in talk radio and on the internet, there is also no doubt that an Ethics investigation would tear my family and my staff apart. Some would say that this is what happens when you stand apart from political parties, which I have done. Others will say that this is what happens to a non politician when they go to Washington DC. I want to make something perfectly clear. My difficulties are of my own making. Period.
MAKEUP
• Beyoncé and her mother, Tina Knowles, are launching a beauty school in Dumbo, Brooklyn, today named the Beyoncé Cosmetology Center. The school features a seven-month beauty training course, and it's based out of the Phoenix House, a rehab clinic for people overcoming drug addictions. [Racked NY]
• Rimmel London signed on three new faces to star in its campaigns this year: Zooey Deschanel, Solange Knowles, and model Alejandra Ramos Munoz. [WWD]
FRAGRANCE
• Jennifer Aniston's representative confirmed that the actress will launch her own signature fragrance in the future. [Wonderwall/MSN]
• YSL Beauté named French actress Melanie Thierry as the face of its new fragrance, which is due out later this year. [WWD]
HAIR
• Glamour magazine's fashion department tweeted that the wigs seen at the Lanvin show today in Paris were flown in from Ricky's NYC last night and cost $39.99 each. [GlamourFashion/Twitter]
• There are concerns about the state of Shiloh Jolie-Pitt's hair. The 3-year-old daughter of Angelia Jolie and Brad Pitt got a pixie cut, which prompted Life & Style magazine to run the question "Is Angelina Turning Shiloh Into a Boy?" on its cover. Low blow. She's 3. [Salon]
• Hair was stacked high at the Nina Ricci show in Paris yesterday, where hairstylist Guido Palau teased locks a few inches tall. [WWD]
• Sally Hershberger is launching an exclusive line of hair products with HSN starting this Monday. [StyleList]
NAILS
• The nail extensions at the Gareth Pugh show featured small black chains dripping over the ends of acrylic nails. [Models.com]
According to the study, 95 percent of people agree that when a penis goes into a vagina then "sex"—that thing that we have spent so much much, waged so many wars, and sweated so many hours in the gym to attain—has occurred. However, 11 percent of people say that if there was no ejaculation, then there was no "sex." Also 30 percent of people think oral sex is not "sex" and 20 percent believe that anal sex is not "sex" even though they both have "sex" in the title. That's like saying there's no "doom" in The Temple of Doom. It also means that about the quarter of the population think that all gay men and lesbians are virgins.
The study concludes that there is a disagreement about what constitutes "having sex." We hate confusion, so we are going to break it down for you: "Having sex" means any consensual behavior between two or more individuals involving genital contact and bodily penetration. That means oral sex, anal sex, and vaginal sex are all "sex." Sorry, guys on the DL, even if you have anal sex (top or bottom) with guys means you still "have sex" with men. It is also "sex" if no orgasm or ejaculation occurs. If you put a penis (or vagina) in your mouth in a coat room for 30 seconds, you had "sex" with that person. It was probably short and unfulfilled for both parties, yes, but it was still sex. "Sex" also includes any activity that happens in the presence of prophylactics. Just because you wore a condom, does not mean you didn't bang that fat chick who lived in the room next to yours sophomore year.
This leaves some leeway for hand jobs, heavy petting, and general rubbing. However, if any of these behaviors occurred and the subject of sex is brought up, they must be acknowledged. It's like being charged with a felony but not convicted. So if you jerked a guy off in a New Jersey truck stop and someone asks, "Did you have sex today?" You can say, "No," but you must add, "But I did jerk someone off." Also, if you reached into a girl's pants and played around a bit while making out before being interrupted by your screaming wife who yells, "Are you having sex with her?" you can say, "No!" but you must add, "I was just playing around in her pants a bit."
That, everyone, is the definition of sex. It's kind of like pornography, it's hard to define, but we know it when we see it. The rest of it is just semantics so we can make ourselves not feel like dirty sluts or get away with cheating on a significant other. Really only lawyers and eight-year-olds play semantics and only religious prudes are ashamed of sex. And no one likes any of those.
According to the study, 95 percent of people agree that when a penis goes into a vagina then "sex"—that thing that we have spent so much much, waged so many wars, and sweated so many hours in the gym to attain—has occurred. However, 11 percent of people say that if there was no ejaculation, then there was no "sex." Also 30 percent of people think oral sex is not "sex" and 20 percent believe that anal sex is not "sex" even though they both have "sex" in the title. That's like saying there's no "doom" in The Temple of Doom. It also means that about the quarter of the population think that all gay men and lesbians are virgins.
The study concludes that there is a disagreement about what constitutes "having sex." We hate confusion, so we are going to break it down for you: "Having sex" means any consensual behavior between two or more individuals involving genital contact and bodily penetration. That means oral sex, anal sex, and vaginal sex are all "sex." Sorry, guys on the DL, even if you have anal sex (top or bottom) with guys means you still "have sex" with men. It is also "sex" if no orgasm or ejaculation occurs. If you put a penis (or vagina) in your mouth in a coat room for 30 seconds, you had "sex" with that person. It was probably short and unfulfilled for both parties, yes, but it was still sex. "Sex" also includes any activity that happens in the presence of prophylactics. Just because you wore a condom, does not mean you didn't bang that fat chick who lived in the room next to yours sophomore year.
This leaves some leeway for hand jobs, heavy petting, and general rubbing. However, if any of these behaviors occurred and the subject of sex is brought up, they must be acknowledged. It's like being charged with a felony but not convicted. So if you jerked a guy off in a New Jersey truck stop and someone asks, "Did you have sex today?" You can say, "No," but you must add, "But I did jerk someone off." Also, if you reached into a girl's pants and played around a bit while making out before being interrupted by your screaming wife who yells, "Are you having sex with her?" you can say, "No!" but you must add, "I was just playing around in her pants a bit."
That, everyone, is the definition of sex. It's kind of like pornography, it's hard to define, but we know it when we see it. The rest of it is just semantics so we can make ourselves not feel like dirty sluts or get away with cheating on a significant other. Really only lawyers and eight-year-olds play semantics and only religious prudes are ashamed of sex. And no one likes any of those.
Tina Fey landed on E!'s "worst dressed" list after wearing a Zac Posen gown to the Golden Globes. Posen was overheard saying at New York Fashion Week, "After the Golden Globes, she fired her stylist and canceled the dress she'd ordered from me for the Academy Awards." Except Fey's spokeswoman says she never ordered such a dress: "There was no 'firing' nor was there a Zac Posen dress that had been lined up." She added:
"I believe a very preliminary discussion was had between [stylist] Anna Bingemann and Zac about wanting to dress Tina again — she wore his dress last year for the Oscars — but it was too early to make any sort of commitment."
Fey is not working with Bingemann for the Oscars. Rather, Vogue has taken her on in what sounds like a bit of a charity project. StyleList reports that the magazine will dress her — since she appeared on the March cover — for a story called "An Education: Tina Fey, Learning to Dress Like a Star." But even if she has a bad outfit on, who cares? She's hilarious and wonderful, and a bad dress wouldn't be as detrimental for her as for someone like Carey Mulligan.
Back in our day, the just-out-of-college kids adopted regressive styles like baby-doll dresses and T-shirts with cartoons on them and even occasionally donned giant pacifiers (not us! Ew). Now, a bunch of Brooklyn youths have taken things one step further. According to Metromix:
On Saturday night, 200 intrepid sleepy-heads grabbed their favorite stuffed animals and camped out amidst blanket fort mazes inside a 2,000 square-foot Brooklyn loft for an evening of hot cocoa, snacks and bedtime tales.
Now. Is that fun, or actually just kind of creepy? How many of these kids are just being twee and how many of them are these people waiting to happen?
Labels usually employ stylists for their look books — this is not news. But for spring and fall 2010, Theory pulled in seventeen different people to put outfits together for its Insider Looks, including Annabel Tollman, Dani Stahl, Leslie Fremar, Kate Young, and many more. The spring looks all debuted a couple of weeks ago in February, but what we're getting excited about are the videos that recently debuted on the site. While some just show the stylists talking about what they love, a few offer up tips that are actually useful. According to Tollman's video, you can wear more than one piece of denim at a time and belting a jacket is a good way to update it. Istvan Francer, who designed the women's line for Theory, waxes poetic about his love of suits and how to wear one properly (never button the third button). And Susan Joy shows how to wear menswear basics like the boyfriend blazer and an oxford shirt.
By most accounts, the city's real-estate market is percolating once more, but provenance can't hurt. That was the case with Walter Cronkite's three-bedroom, five-bathroom co-op at 870 United Nations Plaza, which is now in contract and is expected to close Monday. Listing broker Joanna Simon, vice-president of Fox Residential Group and the renowned journalist's longtime companion in his later years (she's also the sister of singer Carly Simon), says the apartment was only on the market for four days, and the buyers — who aren't in the news business — were the first to see it. "They loved the views and felt a reverence for his spirit and reputation," she says, and as a fitting homage, plan to keep his office fairly intact.
Marike Le Roux (Wilhelmina) at Marc by Marc Jacobs.
There’s something inherently refreshing about newcomer Marike Le Roux. Whether it’s her South African roots or the fact that she speaks fluent Korean, we are big fans of this one. After signing with Wilhelmina late last year, she debuted at some of the hottest spring shows, including Marc Jacobs, Alexander McQueen, Chloé, and Sonia Rykiel. The 18-year-old must have done something right on the runways, as she booked Sonia's spring campaign, lensed by Horst Diekgerdes. And Marike’s not only getting noticed for her modeling abilities, but for her impeccable sense of style as well. She’s been featured on Vogue.com for her cool off-the-runway gear. We just love when a model is unfussy and effortless like Marike.
Mitt Romney stopped by the National Press Club today as part of his whirlwind, nationwide book tour and pre-presidential campaign. Oh, about that book. Like all books, there was a lag time between its writing and publication. In this particular case, No Apologies was finished around July of 2009, and since then, some things have changed. For example, Romney criticized Obama for not doing things he has now done, and praised one corporation that has since become an industry leader in killing its customers.
The new trailer for The Runaways, the new rockudrama about The Joan Jett & The Jetsons (note: fact check this) starring Dakota Fanning and Kristen Stewart, premiered today. Hopefully this inspires a whole new generation of girls to start some new hard-living lady rock bands, because quite frankly, my Veruca Salt CD is wearing pretty thin.
Also, I’m pretty sure Dakota Fanning doesn’t age like a regular human. I can’t tell if she’s twelve or forty-eight now. She doesn’t age backwards, but more like in a circle.
Movies like this always make me sad my high school band broke up. We were going to light the world on fire with our covers of Incubus and 311 songs. We would have been huge.
AFP - From the exhilaration of the hunt to the seduction of the boudoir, John Galliano's collection for autumn-winter for Christian Dior on Friday was inspired by 18th century libertines.
Governor Paterson has been laying low in recent days, but his office just announced a public appearance at 5:45 p.m. today ... to commemorate the opening of the Palm Bar and Grille at JFK International Airport. If he pulls the old "Look, over there!" and then runs onto a plane, we told you so. [Daily Politics/NYDN]
This dog has it all figured out. Actually… no he doesn’t. At least he doesn’t quite have the trampoline figured out. But everything else in life? This dog has that figured out. I’ll shut up now. Dog jumping on a trampoline:
In 2009, Movie Guide says, films with no redemptive quality made an average $24 million dollars, while films with the most redemptive themes averaged $74 million.
"The Hurt Locker" may be neck-and-neck with "Avatar" in the race for best picture at Sunday's Oscars, but in terms of box office, it's bringing up the rear.
Learn from this, Oscar-acceptors: here’s 49 Oscar acceptance speeches mashed together to create the ultimate Devastator of acceptance speeches, and it still clocks in under two minutes:
As Youtube commenter/wordsmith Mikinioo puts it: “whos that black guy saying i love you new york lol”
Reuters - Fashion designer and ex-model Daria Zhukova, the girlfriend of Russian billionaire Roman Abramovich, has opened a new exhibition celebrating Russian modern art at her refurbished Moscow gallery. Source: Yahoo! News: Fashion News | 5 Mar 2010 | 10:34 am
The couple involved in an altercation with cast member Ronnie says their signed network waivers are irrelevant because they were intoxicated at the time.
Jimmy Fallon gave up his dream of a Saved By The Bell reunion last night, but like Dan Marino’s Superbowl ring or Charlie Sheen’s functional marriage, some things are never meant to be. However, Jimmy didn’t dwell on failure. Instead he dove right back in to the 90’s nostalgia pool and reunited the cast of another great NBC Saturday morning teen show many of us had probably forgotten about: California Dreams.
Glad to see that Tiffani is still a total surf babe.
I hope next Fallon reunites the cast of City Guys or possibly the original Power Rangers. Too bad Zordon died from that overdose.
Visitors look at Henri Matisse's (1869-1954) painting "Paris Dance", exhibited at Hermitage museum in St. Petersburg in 2004. Works by Henri Matisse, Pablo Picasso, Kazimir Malevich and other "pioneers... Source: RSS feed - channel BNImagesEnter | 5 Mar 2010 | 10:25 am
J.J. Abrams and a freakishly tan Tom Cruise attended the fifth annual Oscar Wilde awards last night, and got in to some kind of in depth discussion. I’m guessing Tom Cruise is still on season 1 of Lost:
On The Daily Show last night, Jon Stewart entered the genitalia firing range known as ChatRoulette, only to discover several other real news anchors beat him to the punch. Diane Sawyer, Brian Williams, Keith Olberman, and Katie Couric all show up in what is basically the news industry’s answer to that SNL Presidents reunion from the other day. It’s too bad we lost Walter Cronkite. That guy would have been all over ChatRoulette.
Also, Brian Williams once again proves he could take over The Daily Show, and we really wouldn’t skip a beat.
Jon Stewart seems to agree with me that the legitimate news organizations are entering a world of pain when they decided ChatRoulette should be a story. It will only end in tears.
The irony of calling a movie about compromised gentlemen of the New York City Police Department "Brooklyn's Finest" ain't exactly what you'd call subtle.
A statue, portraying Frederic Chopin (1810-1849), is seen displayed as part of the exhibition "Chopin, the European", held from March 9 to June 6 in Paris, as part of the bicentenary celebrations of Chopin's... Source: RSS feed - channel BNImagesEnter | 5 Mar 2010 | 1:45 am
An original manuscript written by Frederic Chopin (1810-1849) of his Scherzo #2 opus 31 is seen displayed as part of the exhibition "Chopin, the European", held from March 9 to June 6, in Paris. Source: RSS feed - channel BNImagesEnter | 5 Mar 2010 | 1:45 am