According to BoingBoing, Fark's Drew Curtis received a particularly hostile e-mail in response to a Fark comment thread about yesterday's Life & Style Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes break-up story (which was, of course, immediately denied by Team Cruise). Curtis noted that the sender's IP address belongs to Paramount Studios, leading him to hypothesize that the anonymous, grammatically innovative e-mailer was Cruise himself. The e-mail:
· Gallery of the Absurd whipped up some truly inspired Valentines starring your favorite tabloid fodder. Best of all, the Tom Cruise card now conveniently doubles as a celebration of the continuation of his creepy relationship!
· Oh yeah, about that Cruise break-up story: In one glance, you can review Life & Style's amazing track record in breaking stories.
· We don't know how many times we've found ourselves arguing that TV's greatest love affair is between Rory and Lorelai.
· One of these days, someone on eBay is going to figure out how to take advantage of this Brokeback Mountain craze.
Because no vehicular boo-boo starring someone who was a longtime member of Aaron Spelling's talent stable can go unremarked upon, we must note that Shannen Doherty was involved in some hot, fender-bending action in Malibu yesterday. Perhaps catching a whiff of the sweet smell of dollar signs that often accompany any celebrity-related accident, Doherty's crashmate hopped an ambulance to the hospital, while the actress opted for a more exclusive transportation option to reach medical attention:
Obsessive chronicler of all things Brokebackian Towleroad notes today that Willie Nelson, whose cover of "He Was A Friend of Mine" accompanies the film's closing credits, has recorded yet another ode to rancher-on-rancher romance: the somewhat less subtly titled "Cowboys Are Frequently Secretly Fond of Each Other." It premiered on a very confused Howard Stern's show this morning (audio available courtesy of The Malcontent) and was made available for purchase on iTunes. The Dallas Morning News reports:
· Those not regrouping in their bunker while celebrity rags try to cast doubt on the strength of their relationships can huddle at the Echo for Give Up—A Violet Valentine, where Dntel will offer "live songs by sad souls." Your hipster soulmate maybe be sheepishly staring at his battered Chuck Taylors just a few feet away...
· Or if you can ignore the crushing pressure of being single on V-Day and willing to mingle downtown, there's the Not-So-Valentine's Mixer at Broadway Bar.
· And in West Hollywood, Danny Elfman and Tim Burton will celebrate man-on-dead-girl love by signing DVDs of Corpse Bride at Best Buy. We won't impose any weird expectations about booty-chasing on your pure love of stop-motion animation.
Blogger Israellycool spotted the rare single-photo side by side with this picture of Matt Dillon at yesterday's Academy Awards nominees' luncheon, standing by one of the oversized Oscar statues that Joaquin Phoenix almost tackled on his mad dash up to the podium. The resemblance between the actor and the statue is hard to deny they share almost identical pronounced brows, chiseled cheekbones and squared-off jaw line. But while Dillon's impersonation was impressive, if slightly workmanlike, it was quickly forgotten when Philip Seymour Hoffman took his place on the other side of Oscar, unselfconsciously removed his clothes, and immediately hardened into solid gold.
Life & Style has just detonated a Valentine's Day dirty bomb on Hollywood's doorstep, boldly announcing the imminent end of Hollywood's Most Suspicious Couple on its cover. Of course, we must always keep our bullshit detectors set to "what the fuck?" in the aftermath of such breathless glossy-rag reportage, but the mind nonetheless reels from the possibility of a coming gossip apocalypse. The details according to L&S:
It was visual effects supervisor geeks' one big chance a year to hit up Charlize Theron for her phone number yesterday (though they would have to get past her mother Gerda first) at the annual Oscar nominees luncheon, held at the Beverly Hilton. In addition to receiving their "nomination certificates" and official Oscar nominee sweatshirts (keep your eyes peeled and your "Oscar memorabilia" search preferences saved, eBayers!) the luncheon also provided the giddy nominees an opportunity to clown around and enjoy themselves, free of the eyes of the broadcast's oft-touted audience of "one billion viewers." Triple-nominee George Clooney even managed to squeeze in a potshot at the Vice President, which, while not quite as inspired as his Golden Globes "Who would name their kid 'Jack' with 'off' at the end?" Jack Abramoff-skewering knee-slapper, still managed to have the crowd in stitches:
· Universal might once again be reviving American Gangster (a project the studio previously killed in late 2004), this time with Ridley Scott directing and Russell Crowe and Denzel Washington as stars. [Variety]
· The Specialty Division Formerly Known As Paramount Classics picks up the documentary An Inconvenient Truth, Al Gore's charismatic romp through the side-splitting world of global warming. [THR]
· Fox ignores the interstellar disaster of Pluto Nash and will risk sending Eddie Murphy into outer space in Starship Dave, the story of "a crew of miniature human-looking aliens who are seeking a way to save their doomed world." There is no mention of a fat suit, talking animals, or precocious day-care residents, so we're a little nervous about this one. [Variety]
· NBC's coverage of Olympic figure skating trounces Fox's coverage of semi-celebrities flailing about on ice skates. [THR]
· Hilarity is sure to ensue when Fox imports the British Archie Bunker (aka "The Pub Landlord") and strands him in the unfamiliar environs of Santa Monica. Also, David Ogden Stiers, Balthazar Getty, and Chazz Palmintieri all find gainful, if temporary, employment in pilots. [Variety]
Indian director T Rajeevnath (sometimes credited, according to IMdB, as simply "Rajeevnath," perhaps making him Bollywood's answer to McG) is developing a biopic on the life of Mother Teresa, and, according to British tab The Sun, has told his people to tell Paris Hilton's people that he'd love to see the Simple Life star in the leper-loving title role:
We're happy to use Valentine's Day as an opportunity to honor some of the entertainment industry's most passionate love affairs, no matter how far we have to stretch the conceit to suit our purposes. This morning, Variety reminds us that while devilishly stylish fauxteur Michael Bay is a man who's given his heart to flashy, high speed chases on the 405 and worshipful, lingering shots of Ben Affleck's jawline, Bay the producer is head-over-heels for pointlessly remaking movies in which horny teens are eviscerated by tool-wielding maniacs. Bay's Platinum Dunes production company, already responsible for desecrating sacred splatter film Texas Chainsaw Massacre and transforming The Amityville Horror into a big-screen tribute to Ryan Reynold's glistening abs, will now be responsible for throwing together a Friday the 13th remake in time for the clever release date of (here it comes) Friday, October 13th. Given the recent trend of shoddily made horror movies ekeing out box office wins, we're going to boldly predict a first-place finish for the movie, if only because horror fans will be curious to see how they explain why Jason Voorhees has now chosen to mow down his victims in a yellow Lamborghini.
You might think that every day is like Valentine's Day for celebrities, who spend nearly every waking moment basking in expressions of love from their millions of admirers. Sadly, however, their work schedules often demand so much of their attention that they find it difficult to maintain meaningful relationships, making the difficult sacrifice of emotional nourishment in the name of professional success. [Begin montage: a man sleeps alone in a California king; in time-lapse, a rose blooms and then wilts; a fluffy kitten sheds a single tear. End montage.] In today's Lowdown column in the NY Daily News, Josh Lucas, star of Glory Road, Stealth, and various other quality filmed entertainments, echoes the common, tragic "too much work, too little love" complaint of Hollywood's elite on this day dedicated to the celebration of romance:
· The recently deceased Chris Penn's autopsy and toxicology reports were released today, indicating his death was accidentally caused by the combination of an enlarged heart and prescription medicine including "Promethazine with codeine... a highly addictive prescription cough syrup." Given our medical knowledge is limited to choosing to expire slowly rather than visit the HMO, we're not going to speculate how this report gibes with what Penn's nosy neighbors had to say shortly after he died.
· In other news, former Creed singer Scott Stapp continues to demonstrate the kind of undeniable charisma that made him a music legend.
· With all of this depressing death talk, we should all take a ride on the puppy monorail to cheer ourselves up. [via BoingBoing]
· "Hunting accident" is not even listed among the 10 Ways Dick Cheney Can Kill You.
Once upon a time, before Mr. Fancypants director Ang Lee came in to screw things up with his gay green monster take on the Marvel legend, the words "The Incredible Hulk" struck fear and awe in the hearts of audiences (mostly boys, 9-12) everywhere. Now, the original Hulk, Mr. Lou Ferrigno, has been named an LA County reserve deputy sheriff:
If you're skeptical that there exists a entertainment industry strata below being the token himbo on a The View knockoff alongside a steroid-swelled cautionary tale and a man old enough to be your great-grandfather's crazy uncle, we invite you to grab a jackhammer alongside Mario Lopez and explore what lies beneath showbiz's rock-bottom:
