The bizarre turn of late night talk show events that saw Conan O'Brien campaigning for Finnish President Tarja Halonen's re-election has arrived at its thrilling conclusion: a visit from Finland's newest hero, where O'Brien was greeted at the airport by a cheering crowd of over 2000 Conan-hungry fans:
· In perhaps the most anticipated To Do list item to date, extravagantly nominated writer/director Paul Haggis will be on hand at the ArcLight for a Q&A following a screening of Crash. He's bringing along his editor, the man whose skills probably saved him from being busted down to writing and directing heavy-handed Food Network promos, so you should probably direct all of your questions to him.
· Meanwhile, the Aero Theater hosts a screening of Brokeback Mountain with Ang Lee and unspecified cast members sticking around for a chat. It's sold out, but a reader gossiped that someone forked over $450 bucks for a ticket, so hope for the rich and gay-cowboy obsessed might still be alive. (BTW, if you go to either the Crash or Brokeback events, drop us a line and let us know what it was like.)
· Music round-up: Jeff Tweedy finishes up a two-night stand at the Henry Fonda Theatre; My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult at the El Rey; Helen Stellar at The Echo.
We're a little bit surprised that a member of the usually profoundly vicious British tabloid press would waste its time fawning over Brad Pitt's parenting skills, but News of the World did just that, praising Pitt for being "completely at ease" with "no awkwardness" while helping adopted son Maddox pilot a radio-controlled car in Paris recently (pictured above). Have they already forgotten last summer, when an eager, attentive Pitt was introducing his little buddy to the exciting world of extreme sports in a pretty transparent attempt to impress Maddox's mom? Now that the thrill of humiliating ex-wife Jennifer Aniston has faded and given way to mundane trips to the park and having to pretend to care about totally boring economic forum bullshit, Pitt could already be disillusioned with his role as family man and might looking for an exit strategy. Unless Pitt perks up and enthusiastically offers to renew his bond with Maddox by taking him out to learn how to hunt Parisians for sport, Jolie might be wise to keep a set of emergency dehyphenation papers handy.
Blissfully unaware of the unpleasant undertones of a young Jewish girl addressing a roomful of Germans about the varied pleasures of having one's hair shaved off, Natalie Portman recently told a group of reporters at the Berlin International Film Festival how much she enjoyed going follicle free for the shooting of V for Vendetta:
The attention being lavished on new Superman Brandon Routh's Package of Steel™ has escalated from occasional tabloid scrutiny to full-blown press tour. Perhaps sensing that Routh's carefully engineered, now-infamous superjunk is the most compelling thing about the actor, the evil masterminds of Warner Bros. dispatched him to the WonderCon convention in San Francisco, where the topic of geek discussion quickly turned to the relative rigidity of the obsessed-about codpiece:
The Envelope reports that Lionsgate had to disclose exactly what its been spending on its For Your Consideration assault for Crash, letting us know exactly what the studio is willing to spend to buy itself an Oscar. The total's up to $4 million (against the movie's reported $6.5 million budget) for the entire awards-season campaign, with the last couple of million coming after the movie snagged its nominations in the only contest that matters:
It's an interesting juxtaposition: Dick Cheney can blow his hunting partner away, and the official White House reaction falls somewhere along the lines of, "Yeah, bummer...But, you know, Vice Presidential shit happens," but when Britney Spears is photographed driving with her baby in her lap, the Transportation Secretary uses the rather well-timed mishap to crown an honorary villain for his new child car seat safety campaign:
· Amidst the expected, ugly fight for incredibly scarce Oscar tickets, a philosopher is born: "Any system that produces a wide range of unhappy people is probably pretty fair. If everyone is equally unhappy, then maybe we're doing it right," said the Academy's executive administrator. [Variety]
NBC's ratings for the Winter Olympics are deemed "so-so," especially when compared to the demographic-attracting monsters Lost, American Idol, CSI, and Desperate Housewives. And in case you were wondering, the semi-secret Friday night Arrested Development finale finished up the series' Fox run with a ratings "whimper." [THR]
NBC's Kevin Reilly has been "drinking the Kool-Aid" (not the Guayana Suicide Punch flavor, yet), lusting at the downloading prospects of new, serialized Dick Wolf Hollywood crime drama Power. Will hard-boiled cops and harder-boiled fake tits play on a three-inch screen? Reilly's betting on it. [Variety]
Feel free to ignore any story that leads with the words "Skeet Ulrich has been tapped to star," because it only goes downhill from there. (I.e., Mark Feuerstein's next career move is mentioned.) [THR]
And the award for Filthiest-Sounding Title for a Series of Articles goes to Variety, for "Nurturing the Niche." [Variety, Variety]
It's Valentine's Day Eve, a good moment to stop and take stock of just how lonely and pathetic one's life has become. Take some respite in knowing you are not without avenues of support why, your AOL love coach Star Jones herself is standing by nor are you alone: Paula Abdul, the American Idol judging panel's ray of benumbed sunshine, is also desperate for love. So much so, in fact, that she has turned to professional know-it-all Dr. Phil for help. In A Dr. Phil Primetime Special: Love Smart, Abdul confides between sobs that her love life is a mess, and the good doctor comes to the rescue with "10 hunky bachelors for Paula to choose from." Which makes this recent PrivacyWatch sighting of Abdul and the model she's been reportedly dating very publicly since September, Dante Spencer, rather curious:
Sony's Amy Pascal, even while mired in last year's Stealth-fueled disaster, never abandoned her instincts. She knew that with some judicious cuts (read: $5 mil in reshoots and edits) designed to render the troublingly priapic Inspector Clouseau a PG-rated eunuch, The Pink Panther could probably capitalize on Steve Martin's post-sellout Cheaper by the Dozen fan base. Reports the LAT on some of the family-friendly changes made en route to the movie's (long delayed) number one opening:
The empirical measurement of a celebrity's marketable "celebrityness" has, until now, been a fuzzy science. Sure, there are Q-ratings, power lists, salary charts, and the informal caste lettering system consensus that firmly places a Nicole Kidman on the Chanel-pimping A-list, while a Patricia Heaton floats comfortably somewhere in the Albertson's B-zone. But now, thanks to the scientifically rigorous Davie-Brown Index, all the guesswork has finally been taken out of assessing a celebrity's ability to shill burgers and hair products. Reports THR:
When we mused that director Quentin Tarantino was headed to Scandinavia to scout talent for the trailer for Cowgirls in Sweden, a fake movie he planned to advertise during the intermission in Grindhouse, we knew our flight of fancy might have the stink of truth on it. Today, the Scoop reports that Tarantino, who recently discovered the delights of chasing Icelandic tail, seems to be conducting some serious research in Sweden:
Instead of the usual, brief meditation on the oppressive drudgery of the coming work week, how about some positivity this morning? Find your nearest coworker, and while locked in a big bear hug, assure each other that this week can't possibly be as bad as the last.
· Tom Ford's Hollywood is giving us the creeps.
· Eat out Paul Walker's wife! Hm...tastes like Spam!
· Harrison Ford gives an up-and-comer a little advice from someone who's been there.
· Tom Sizemore PNPs. A commenter remembers happier times.
· Lee Tamahori: Virtual trannytute.
· Katie: More coffee, more sad.
· Star of The End of the Affair deals with irony of title of movie he starred in.
· Grammys: What the fuck?
· No, seriously, what the fuck?!
· Britney Spears gives Sean Preston his first driving lesson. Then the Sheriff visited.
· The cast of The O.C.'s Sidekicks are sent tumbling to their watery graves.
· Hotdogs Vs. Handbags. Let's meet halfway: Swarovksi crystal-encrusted tubesteak.
· Reese Witherspoon's Witch Mountain-like ESP powers kill a paparazzi.
· Pellicano indictments fly. That P.I., he sure hates Sly!
· Paris Hilton is ordered to stay away from a party promoter.
· "Man, I ain't heard beats thrown down like that since I kicked it with Bob Seger!"
· You make the (very tough) call: Which is the more important piece of gay cinema history: Jake Gyllenhaal's shirt from Brokeback Mountain or Vin Diesel's pants from xXx? [The Reeler has more charity auction fun.]
· Bono confronts the one living being who might not be completely bored with him yet.
· Hey, Harrison Ford, try not to sound so f'ing excited about the only movie sequel we really care about: ''I'd like to get it over with so I don't have to answer the god-damned questions [about it] anymore.''
· Mena Suvari may have met her own Federline, though with a crucial difference—her new boyfriend seems to be employed.
For those interested in perhaps following in the footsteps of David Hans Schmidt, aka the "Sultan of Sleaze," and carving out a career for yourselves based entirely around the brokering of celebrity smut, pay close attention: Using his recent big score (Paris Hilton's time capsule of personal skank-effects) as a case study, Schmidt recently explained the nuts and bolts of the sleaze-purveying business to a CourtTV.com reporter:
Friday
· Dueling book events: Eastsiders can check out Advocate editor Alonso Duralde signing 101 Must-See Movies for Gay Men at Skylight Books, while those farther west have Saul Williams showing off The Dead Emcee Scrolls: The Lost Teachings of Hip-Hop at Book Soup.
· Music round-up: Bob Mould at the Troubadour; Meat Beat Manifesto at Knitting Factory.
Saturday
More music: Stars with the Elected at Avalon; or back to the Knitting Factory for some Nashville Pussy.
· McSweeney's Presents The World, Explained (at the Redcat) features illuminating looks at presidential prosthetic hooks and Sasquatch obsessions, comedy, slideshows, John Hodgman, David Rees, Mike Colton, the editorial staff of Yeti Researcher, Eli Horowitz, Patton Oswalt, and Jon Brion. That about covers it, we think.
· The Silverlake Conservatory of Music is holding a "swanky" fundraising event at the Diane von Furstenberg store on Melrose to benefit the Conservatory’s scholarship program. Drink cocktails, eat hors d’oeuvres, and listen to the live acoustic stylings of Flea.
Sunday
· The Jeff Tweedy solo show at the Henry Fonda looks sold out, but if you love Wilco enough, you'll find a way. Or try again on Monday.
· And if you feel the hours you've lost trying to get Paul Walker's horny virtual wife off hasn't really increased your real-life skills, Babeland on Melrose is having a seminar on how to please your woman.
It took us almost two days, but we've finally found something from the Grammys more unsettling than a possibly senile Paul McCartney (he's got to be, right?) being tricked into performing with Linkin Park—namely, this photo of burgeoning hip-hop superstar K-Fed and kiddie car-seat eschewing scofflaw Britney Spears. We're sure it's just a trick of perspective, but we could swear that Federline isn't flashing a peace sign, but actually using those two fingers to slide his meal ticket's dress down just enough to create some cocktail dress/areola separation. ("Hey baby, look what I just done! PopoZao, little nipple motherfucker!") If you're frustrated by the censored version above, clicking the image will produce a more revealing, NSFW version that will undoubtedly brighten your Friday afternoon.
Don't ask us why a show featuring catty, aspiring fashion designers frantically hot-gluing cat-suits together and bitching conspiratorially about each other to a camera lens is so damn addictive Project Runway just is. Part of it is the contestants' ingenuity we look forward to the episode when Heidi Klum greets them in an emergency room and tells them, "Use any of the materials around you to make a wedding dress for Tori Spelling. You have 90 seconds. Go!" but then just as entertaining are their personalities themselves. Santino Rice has emerged as the predominant bad guy this season, and what a villain he is: The guy's a dead ringer for Rasputin, though Santino would have probably given the Tsar a head-to-toe makeover after he was done brainwashing him.
