Before you make a joke about how disastrous it is when celebrities try to accomplish everyday tasks without the assistance of the help, please realize that Justin Timberlake knew exactly what he was doing—soaking his genitals in gasoline so that he could later burn them off in a fiery demonstration of his commitment to Cameron Diaz. Hey, it worked for Tom Cruise and L.Ron Hubbard!
After last week's inexplicable success with the forecast, we've vowed to try harder to return to our inaccurate roots. Wish us luck.
With today's unveiling of celebrity weblog publishing tool TeeVeePad, helmed by pill-kicking venture capitalist/Friend-in-repose Matthew Perry, Hollywood's brightest stars and savviest executives finally have a way to directly and intimately communicate with the entertainment consumer: by blogging! TeeVeePad's ambitious launch features new online journals by the prominently-browed former LA Law superstar Harry Hamlin, midseason casting albatross Rena Sofer, and our favorite, Viacom co-president Les Moonves, where the future galactic dictator distracts himself from his plans for bloody world takeover by offering his cogitations about the CBS schedule. Should Moonves sign up another CSI franchise or plot the assassination of a key French diplomat? Read and find out!
· Feeding tubes are red-hot right now. The Pope's deteriorating health and Terri Schiavo's death provided a tube-related field day for the news media yesterday. Today, CBS has announced plans to rush a Schiavo biopic to air during May sweeps, with Keri Russell to star as America's tragic heroine and Dean Cain as the husband who wants to let her die in peace. The net anxiously awaits the Pope's death to announce the casting of Ben Kingsley as the Holy Father. [Variety]
· Tired of making quirky comedies that are enjoyed by a handful of Spanking the Monkey incest fanboys, David O. Russell, the headlockingest director in Tinseltown, teams up with comedy hearthrob Vince Vaughn for a shot-by-shot slapstick remake of Saving Private Ryan. [THR]
· In a shocking move for fem-centric cabler Lifetime, recently-acquitted star Robert Blake is named CEO of the network. A press release announcing the unexpected hiring featured the tough-talking thesp-turned-exec vowing to "shut up them puking, Valerie Bertinelli-wannabe breast cancer whiners, or they're gonna get one in the back of the head between the antipasti and the spaghetti, if you know what I mean." [Variety]
· ER hearthrob Noah Wyle announces that he's leaving the show that made blood-splattered white labcoats the must-have fashion of 1996 after this season. Wyle plans to rejoin former castmate Eriq LaSalle in a touring musical theater production in which the two actors perform a dub-reggae version of the Jackson/McCartney smash "Say, Say, Say" at rural high schools throughout the country. [THR]
· Seth Green signs up to have his genitals sandblasted off for Will & Grace creators Max Mutchnick and David Kohan's new NBC pilot, Dry-Humping Eunuchs. [Variety]
The chinchilla-huggers over at PETA are usually spot-on with their rabid fur attack ads, but this time they've crossed the line. We know that Orlando Jones hasn't made the best career decisions, but is that a reason to make poor guy a target for anti-fur activists? And how does his smearing of menstrual blood on a stole advance PETA's cause? In short, we find this latest ad to be in poor taste, mean-spirited, and wholly confusing. Grade: C-
· Everybody loves to watch people beating the shit out of each other on Hollywood Blvd, but tonight you have the opportunity to see it happen in a boxing ring instead of outside of Star Shoes. The officially-sanctioned display of fisticuffsmanship starts at 7 pm at the Henry Fonda.
· All of this death talk probably has you in the mood for a Vincent Price double feature, doesn't it? You're in luck, because the Aero is showing a double-dip of The Tingler and House on Haunted Hill tonight. Ghoul.
· Three shows, one night: Pedro the Lion and Low at the El Rey; Run Run Run and Dear Leader play the
Troubadour; Ozomatli makes sweet love to Spaceland.
Many of you have expressed disappointment that there was no Blind Item Guessing Game today. We apologize for today's blind-item-free buzzkill, but we were forced to skip it this week because of a server crash this morning and an e-mail crash early in the afternoon. (For those of you without the luxury of the "virtual office" we enjoy, a rough analogue would be your cubicle collapsing, leaving you buried alive under an avalanche of Beanie Babies for hours.) Instead, let's all take a moment from our busy days to meditate on this marvel of linguistic invention pulled from today's Ted Casablanca blind item:
In another triumph by Fox's vaunted background-check department, The Smoking Gun has discovered that American Idol contestant Scott Savol has a domestic violence complaint in his past for shoving the mother of his child and throwing a phone at her (did she incorrectly text a vote for Anthony Fedorov?). We shouldn't be so hard on Fox—at least their screening procedure still keeps the gays from advancing, right?
If Mitch Hedberg's tragic death is indeed an April Fool's Day prank (as we've heard suggested several times on the internets), the jokesters have pretty thoroughly punked the media. Obits have finally started to appear online, like this one in the Pioneer Press from Hedberg's hometown of St.Paul, which realizes every comedian's worst posthumous fear: a newspaper reporter trying to explain their comedy.
The terror that had gripped the Fox lot during the height of the "Fox Leg" mystery hasn't yet subsided. An operative fears that yet another boot-related incident may again trouble Rupert Murdoch's already worried minions: "I found this boot on the Fox lot next to the old NYPD Blue Stages this morning. Considering recent events surrounding boots and the Fox lot, I'm a bit concerned for my well-being. I didn't see a severed leg in this one, but I'm on the look-out."
Granted, this isn't as spectacular a self-immolation as Jessica Alba's declaration that she was "done sleeping around in Hollywood." But we expect Suvari's addled publicist to go into a similar spin mode, declaring that Mena meant that she'd never go smaller than a double-D, if that's what it takes to please a producer.
· Ted Koppel quits Nightline...in December. Can't anyone quit the old-fashioned way, where they storm off the set in an expletive-laden huff, punching their executive producer in the jaw? People have no sense of what makes a good story these days. We blame the bloggers. [Variety, THR]
· Paramount shocker! Chairman Brad Grey thinks newly-minted president Gail Berman will do a bang-up job in her new position! [THR]
· "'I recognize that there is skepticism about my background so I come into this with a great deal of humility,' Berman told Daily Variety. 'The bottom line is going to be fostering an environment where creative ideas will transfer into great films.'" Translation: "Fuck all y'all. I am going to crack some fucking skulls the second I step on the lot, and you can't stop me." [Variety]
· The European Commission has approved MGM's sale to Sony. Let the layoffs and the multimillion-dollar severance packages commence. [Variety]
· Tiny, bajillionaire DreamWorks Animation despot Jeffrey Katzenberg assures his company's investors that flooding theaters with eight Shrek sequels a year won't oversaturate the market. As he's prroven over and over again, the public's thirst for green ogre cock is completely unquenchable. [THR]
This Page Six report about Paris Hilton and Kimberly Stewart's adventures at a local club allows us to revisit some of the rules of Hollywood bathroom etiquette:
Yes, unfortunately, at least one part of the rumor is true—comedian Mitch Hedberg died on Tuesday. We received confirmation from several sources since late last night, and Howard Stern talked about it on the radio this morning as well (there's some info on his website). The other part of the rumor, that Hedberg overdosed, is still unconfirmed.
· What's Paris Hilton's time potentially worth? $250,000 an hour, but this is according to a crazy pimp in Bellevue and it's only if she's on her back or assuming the doggystyle position. Fascinating. Who knew she could be such an earner?
· HBO enables a third season of Old West fuckin' and cocksuckerin' by picking up more Deadwood.
· Super Mario delivered a petition to honorary Hollywood mayor Johnny Grant to include video game characters on the Walk of Fame. After he handed over the petition, he joined the other people in cheap movie costumes in front of the Chinese Theater for a lively session of hitting the crackpipe.
· Reason number 24 why you should love that Burger King commercial with Hootie: "The Twin Black Cowboys. They are obviously exhausted from banging all the chicks at The Tender Crisp Bacon Cheddar Ranch, so now they just want to lay down and have a snack."
· You'll never hear the Grey Album the same way again after you check out the "Fair Use" exhibition at the Hammer. You might think that mash-up is merely "bitchin,'" but you'll learn that it's actually turning "the tools and products of information distribution against itself."
· Untelevised television host J. Keith van Straaten once again brings his live interpretation of "What's My Line" to the Acme Theatre on La Brea. This week's panelists include John Waters staple Mink Stole, Who's Line stalwart Brad Sherwood, and some hot chick that used to be a writer on Win Ben Stein's Money. And, of course, the obligatory mystery guest.
· Not actually a midnight screening: KCRW sponsors a 10th Anniversary show at Spaceland, starring Midnight Movies and On the Speakers.
