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· The HFPA has reached an agreement with the IRS over Golden Globes gift boxes, meaning the government will see their rightful cut of the luxury giveaways from years past. Starting this year, the gift boxes will be done away with entirely, depriving stars from the satisfaction of overturning them onto their tables, rummaging through the contents, then agitatedly sweep the pile of gadgets, sunglasses, and spa vouchers to the floor, and saying "There's no fucking iPhone in here. Anyone want this crap?" [HFPA.org]
· Vogue's Andre Leon Talley will host an Oscar fashion show in the Academy lobby, featuring "many of the spectacular dresses that have been worn to the Oscars through the years." Quick: Think of three, not including Cher or Bjork's swan dress. Not that easy, is it? Memory loves ugly. [Variety]
· Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest picks up five People's Choice Awards, and Halle Berry, accepting for Favorite Female Action Star for X-Men: The Last Stand, begged "every person in the room" who wants to see another X-Men movie to "write letters! Write a letter to Tom Rothman at Fox and tell him so." Good thing she didn't ask the viewers at home to do the same, or Tom Rothman would have been flooded with mail pretty soon! [InsideSocal]
While we're still awaiting an official press release announcing president Gail Berman's departure from Paramount, Var has pulled the trigger on an ankling-invoking headline, citing "several studio insiders" who claim that Berman submitted her resignation around noon. An operative within Brad Grey's fortified Melrose lot walls tells us that chatterers think co-president of production Brad Weston will replace her, but we wouldn't be that surprised to discover that Grey, overwhelmed by the pressure of choosing a successor, wandered into the lot's Water Tower Cafe and offered the position to the guy making his banana-and-strawberry Smoothie.
We realize a major escalation in the Iraq War is about to be announced, but it's difficult to focus on that sort of thing when most of the conflict-oriented areas of our brain are currently occupied with the Rosie vs. Donald vs. Barbara vs. (possibly, if you believe Donald) Rosie feud. When last we checked in, Donald Trump had sent in a scathing letter to The View's offices, accusing Walters of having called O'Donnell a "pig" and telling him she wouldn't "be here for long." Their response on today's show (video above courtesy of BWE) featured Barbara calling Trump, "that poor, pathetic man...we're moving on." Trump's lightning response time has us suspecting that he drafts his statements the night before, leaving a few specifics blank until the very last moment. ("I find it funny that you should call me a ______ on the show today, because Barbara said you're a ______. Send my love to Kelli! Best, Donald") In his latest missive, he defends The Apprentice: LA's ratings performance, and offered this mellow sentiment to the special ladies in his life:
· Gail BermanWatch:Var reads this morning's LAT story about Berman's imminent departure from Paramount and puts in some calls at the studio, getting a no comment and a promise that a statement about the situation is forthcoming. Meanwhile, the Reporter updates that "a source close to the executive" says Berman is negotiating a separation settlement. We're on pins and needles over here as we await the forwarding of a heartbreaking press release. [Variety, THR]
· Madonna's Maverick Films and HBO Films combine their resources to lock up the highly coveted, non-Johnny Knoxville part of the Jackass collective for the wacky firefighter comedy Hosed, in which we assume Steve-O and the gang do nothing but give each other firehose enemas and test the limits of their genitals' resistance to open flame. [THR]
· Paramount will sell its movies on iTunes. In a statement about their move to exploit the digital platform, studio boss Brad Grey made no comment on Gail Berman's reportedly imminent departure. [Variety]
· Fox House "easily trounced" (is there any other way?) L&O: Criminal Intent and the People's Choice Awards in the ratings last night, giving the network a nice win as it awaits next week's return of Nielsen juggernaut American Idol. [THR]
If the Emmys are the Oscars' paste-eating cousin, we're nearly at a loss for what familial metaphor to apply to last night's People's Choice Awards—perhaps the PCAs are its chain-smoking, lupus-afflicted aunt with an internet gambling problem. Last night's procession of winners offered some unsettling glimpses into the state of current American popular favor (three words: Favorite Group: Nickelback), interrupted occasionally by a truly creepy, cosmetics-sponsored complexion prize. (Congratulations, Sandra Bullock, on your sweet, OLAY Total Effects Award victory!) Favorite Female Movie Star Jennifer Aniston and Favorite Leading Man Vince Vaughn (as opposed to Favorite Male Movie Star Johnny Depp—a not-very-clever way to get two movie stars to show up), recognized for their prescient work in The Break-Up, were both on hand to accept. So was Cameron Diaz, who concluded a rambling acceptance speech on how much she loves her "job" with a lightly-encoded kiss-off to recent dump-in-a-box gifter Justin Timberlake, who appeared live via satellite:
Inspired by the wild success of the Sun Valley retreat, where billionaire media moguls gather each year to talk shop, paw at up-and-comers whose ideas they think will some day further enrich them, and hunt humans for sport with semi-automatic rifles in their downtime (an ill-advised, all-crossbow expedition resulted in too few fatalities to be fun), the William Morris agency has gathered over three hundred of its best foot soldiers in Palm Springs this week for some corporate bonding. The LAT reports on how WMA staffers will occupy their time in between restorative seaweed wraps:
TV Week's Critical Eye blog once again descends into the junketastic hell that is the Television Critics Association press tour, where boob-tube stars and programming executives submit themselves to panel discussion firing-squads in between parties where they're forced to mingle with their critical executioners. The Eye called yesterday's Dirt panel one of the "most anticipated" of the week, as bloodthirsty critics would finally have a chance to confront the people responsible for a show they've taking great glee in savaging, and recounts FX President John Landegraf's (shocking!) admission that he'll take ratings over praise, as well as his hopes that audiences will hang around long enough to see the series get better:
Today's LAT reports that Paramount Emperor Brad Grey and embattled lieutenant Gail Berman are expected to finally part ways this week, ending a partnership so doomed that early drafts of Grey's press release announcing the TV veteran's puzzling ascendency to his studio's presidency ended with the phrase, "I couldn't be more excited to welcome Gail into the Paramount family, and to eventually fire her long after it becomes apparent that this relationship just isn't working out, after an acceptable interval for saving face." The Times takes a look back at Berman's rocky tenure at the 'Mount, during which her "exclusionary, aloof and non-confrontational" boss made the classically passive-aggressive move of buying an entire movie studio rather than prod her about the slow progress of her development slate:
· The iPhone cometh, as did our gadget-geek siblings at Gizmodo (OK, maybe we did a little bit, too), who wrote roughly 50 entries on The Jesus Phone from MacWorld today. Perhaps it was a little hasty of us to hit both our Treo and iPod with a hammer before reading that we won't be able to buy one for sixth months.
10 Zen Monkeys grills Screech about his claim that he wasn't behind the release of his sex tape.
Hilary Swank loves an Agent-American, and she doesn't care who knows it.
Paris Hilton's idea of nurturing a "serious" acting career is taking a job in something called The Hottie and the Nottie. Also: She's pleading not guilty to those totally annoying DUI charges.
From the TSA's guide to traveling with monkey helpers: "Since monkeys may likely draw attention, the handler will be escorted to the physical inspection area where a table is available for the monkey to sit on. Only the handler will touch or interact with the monkey." [via BoingBoing]
We've always believed that concerns that the widespread publicizing of Lindsay Lohan's hard-partying ways might somehow damage her "brand" are overblown; rather than waste their time fretting about what possibly lucrative endorsement opportunities might be lost each time she emerges from an unexpected, suspiciously timed hospital stay with one fewer internal organ, her team should be trying to match her up with products that can seamlessly integrate with her underage, club-haunting lifestyle.
· Music round-up: Xu Xu Fang at Silverlake Lounge; Peter Walker at the Troubadour; Justin Timberlake puts his dick in the Honda Center's box.
· Learn the closely guarded secrets to building a "Mama Said Knock You Out"-quality sixpack as LL Cool J signs the immodestly titled LL Cool J's Platinum Workout: Sculpt Your Best Body Ever With Hollywood's Fittest Star at Borders in Century City.
· The Skirball screens Psycho (for free, we know how you love that price-point) as part of an ongoing series celebrating the title sequence work of Saul Bass.
Stubbornly refusing to have the decency to succumb to some kind of debilitating medical condition and turn over his fashion-critiquing duties to a hungry up-and-comer like Ryan Seacrest or the deranged homeless man who hisses "Frumpy!" at each passer-by while urinating on Gucci's Rodeo Drive storefront, superannuated celebrity style arbiter Mr. Blackwell has once again released his annual list of Worst-Dressed Famous People. Unable to choose between nightclub narcoleptic Britney Spears, whose exposed vagina he probably mistook for a particularly ill-fitting pair of panties, and Paris Hilton, whose sartorial crimes against humanity hardly need to be recounted in this space, Blackwell decided to allow the duo to share his list's top spot, calling them "two peas in an overexposed pod." Also making the list: Lindsay Lohan ("tragically trapped in fashion's fast lane"), Christina Aguilera ("all crass, no class"), and, somewhat shockingly, Meryl Streep, whom Blackwell paranoidly accused of "stealing my adult undergarments and wearing them on her head at the Golden Globes."
In a post on On The Town, Var's new blog covering the industry party and events beat, a reporter describes an uncomfortable moment she shared with Brad Pitt at the premiere for God Grew Tired of Us, a documentary about the Sudanese civil war that Angelina Jolie's orphan-gathering companion executive produced:
It is with great sadness that we note the end of one of the great on-screen/offscreen Hollywood love affairs of our time, that between aging, 1980s teenage-panty-moisturizer John Cusack and longtime partner Jeremy Piven. According to an upcoming interview in Disgruntled Former Sidekick Quarterly Best Life magazine, Piven apparently believes that his Entourage Emmy win and recent attachment to the Untitled Man vs. Nature Project has caused the tumor of professional jealousy on his lifelong friend's heart to finally metastasize. Remarks Piven on the pair's eroding relationship:
· The Directors Guild of America announced its short list of five nominees, including Martin Scorsese, Bill Condon, Stephen Frears, Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu, and Little Miss Sunshine collaborators Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris, leading us to wonder why we don't see more directing duos willing to evenly split their control-freak impulses. [MSNBC]
· Even publicists have awards! The nominees for the Maxwell Weinberg Award for the year's top publicity campaign include Borat, The Devil Wears Prada, Dreamgirls, Happy Feet, and United 93. World Trade Center's campaign, which voters felt relied too heavily on the solicitation of MySpace friendships and currying favor with Tila Tequila, was passed over for recognition. [Variety]
· The Scripter, an unusual award from the USC libraries that recognizes the achievement of both authors and the screenwriters who transform that source material into successful screen adaptions, have narrowed the field of nominees to the teams responsible for Children of Men, The Devil Wears Prada, The Illusionist, The Last King of Scotland, and Notes on a Scandal. [THR]
· Don't forget: Tomorrow is the deadline to get those Golden Globe ballots in, HFPA members! Oh, and for anyone who cares, the People's Choice Awards are tonight. [The Envelope]
Having defeated a raft of lawsuits aimed at removing scenes that various "victims" of Kazakhstan's leading documentarian found to portray their racism/misogyny/dinner parties in an unflattering light, the Borat DVD is scheduled to be released on DVD March 6th without any changes to the original theatrical version. [Variety]
· Hollywood Out of Ideas, 'Sex and the City'-related Pilot Pick-up Edition: ABC picks up Cashmere Mafia ("the next generation of Sex and the City. ") and Brett Ratner's Women's Murder Club ("CSI meets Sex and the City"), while NBC goes straight to the source, greenlighting SATC author Candace Bushnell's Lipstick Jungle. [THR]
It's been approximately five minutes since we've mentioned Donald Trump, so: The Donald and producer Mark Burnett are being sued for age discrimination by a rejected Apprentice applicant, who claims the show favors the young and hot over the old and litigious. [Variety]
Fox wiped out all Monday night competition with its BCS championship game between Florida and Ohio State, but NBC's Deal or No Deal and CBS comedy block still perform respectably. Once again, Studio 60 continued its hiatus and thus had no momentum-killing effect on NBC's Nielsen fortunes. [THR]
· Scooby Doo creator Iwao Takamoto dies at 81. The cause of death is officially "heart failure," but we suspect foul play by a disgruntled local farmer wearing a rubber mask. [Variety]
Donald Trump has already responded to this morning's Page Six item (yup, he's fast, and, apparently, sorely in need of some busy-work around the office), in a letter addressed to Rosie O'Donnell and faxed to The View this morning. (AccessHollywood.com has the entire letter.) Scattered among its many hollow good wishes are the following claims:
