· Jonathan Demme has stepped in for the departing Martin Scorsese on the authorized Bob Marley documentary project. This is the movie Marley's estate want released before the Weinstein's Bob biopic, a scheduling snafu that caused an irate Harvey to whip a can of Diet Coke at an assistant's head as he taunted the incapacitated call-roller to, "C'mon, Josh! Get up, stand up. Stand up for your rights!" [Variety]
· More legend docs! Spike Lee told a crowd at Cannes that he's hoping to bring a feature-length documentary about Michael Jordan to the festival next year, contingent of course on Denzel playing Michael. [Variety]

Paramount interns are plucking rose petals as we speak for Brad Grey's arrival at the office tomorrow, by which time Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of Do We Really Have to Write it Out Again will be on its way to the top five — and possibly even an all-time record — for a five-day opening weekend. Most midnight screenings around the country tonight are already sold out, with at least one prognosticator firming up his tracking to reflect a $173 million opening. The number would bump the final Star Wars installment Revenge of the Sith from the number-one spot and, paired with Iron Man, give Paramount the best May in its history.

Apparently the tabloids aren’t the only ones who have serious issues with Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen’s scary skinny frames. According to a story in OK!, a cunning barista at the twins’ favorite Starbucks in New York was so concerned for MK&A’s health that he would foster his own plumping recipes for the pair despite their usual order of Grande nonfat lattes. According to the magazine’s source, "the barista thought the Olsens were too thin, so whenever they ordered their usual drink, he would replace the skim milk with full-fat." While we don’t think the coffee-slinging superhero’s plan did much in the way of turning the Olsens around, reading their friend’s teary manifesto against evil concoctions like this might make them reconsider the kind of slim-fast buddies they’ve been hanging out with.

Last night, we were finally treated to the David vs. David karoake Idol deathmatch that seemed such an inevitability for weeks now. You could practically smell the tension hanging over the Nokia Theater—a potent combination of baby powder, cherry-flavored lozenges, and young testosterone—as both worthy competitors took to the stage for a championship face-off that relied heavily upon boxing metaphor. (Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber was cast in the role of Mickey Goldmill, bandaging Archuleta's busted eye between songs as he implored the little belter to, "Keep hittin'em in the ribs ya see? Don't let that bastard breathe!")

While the Cannes cognoscenti revel in the unblinking confessions of Mike Tyson in his eponymous documentary currently screening there, another opus of self-reflective, crazy-ass candor has found increasing traction at the festival as well. Like Tyson, Nick Nolte: No Exit reportedly features an unadulterated one-on-one session with its subject, but boosts the stakes with the added integrity of an unprecedented Nolte-on-Nolte grilling:

[Photo Credit: Splash Pics]

Orlando-based pop svengali and accredited Boy-Band-Member Sunburn Inspector Lou Pearlman was sentenced today to 25 years in the fed for a decade-long scam that fleeced thousands of investors—including his own relatives—out of $300 million of their savings. It was the maximum sentence, but the judge showed some mercy by offering Pearlman one-month's deduction for every $1 million he returned. It's a crushing blow to the former impresario behind NSYNC, Backstreet Boys, and O-Town, though we're certain the born deal-maker will take full advantage of the virtual limitlessly supply of fresh male talent at his new home. Expect an all-con boy band resurgence in the coming years, with groups like Twenty2Life and Lockdown dominating the Billboard charts. [AP]

With all the magnetized baked potatoes and dancing chihuahua sequences in store in this weekend’s Indy 4, it’s no surprise Harrison Ford’s next on-screen project is as simple and easy to understand as possible. As we noted weeks ago, Ford was filming spots for an environmental group that prompted him to step in as copywriter and retool the scripts. And thank goodness he did — who else could have come up with this illuminating dialogue between the grizzly manscaping actor and, well, himself? Apparently, even big boys like Ford wince when hair is ripped from their shiny manly chests using hot wax. And that’s how the environment feels. So get thee to the nearest beauty parlor, shoot the unsmiling waxer a charismatic flirty smirk or two, and save the planet already.

Only a few days remain before Cannes ends and we can roll our bleary eyes from the backs of our heads. In the meantime, the rubbernecker in us can't help but take an interest in Spike Lee's latest sortie against the Hollywood establishment — this time as personified by Cannes darling Clint Eastwood, whom Lee railed against while promoting his upcoming Afro-centric World War II drama Miracle at St. Anna:

Jessica Marie Alba and Cash Garner Warren were married on Monday in the Beverly Hills courthouse's ceremony room in Beverly Hills, California.

Looking remarkably sober and well-recovered from last weekend's Cannes-diana Jones sojourn, Harrison Ford returned home Tuesday for the film's long-awaited Harlem premiere (yes, Harlem) and a requisite visit with David Letterman. The conversation quickly turned to Ford's piloting hobby — particularly his fondness for taking off in a Beaver. What? No, not a late-model Calista Beaver, but rather a vintage de Havilland model — the bulletproof kind flown covertly by the CIA during Vietnam. Naturally Letterman's audience followed his train of thought straight into the gutter, but an unfazed Ford stuck to the high road with tales of his soaring journeys into the bush. If only Kevin Spacey had shown the host so much class the night before. [The Late Show With David Letterman]

· So David Letterman goes to the trouble of getting Kevin Spacey a Jamba Juice, per his request, and Spacey thanks him by dumping the entire thing—on his carpet. Moral of the story? Never pay it forward, at least where Spacey is concerned. [Late Show]
· Hey—Carrie Bradshaw left her Mac desktop open for anyone to just snoop around in. We really shouldn't. Well...maybe just for a second. What does this Stickie say? "Buy...black suit...for Miranda's...funeral." Oh no! We should have never snooped! [Carrie's Macbook]
· And the "world's biggest star" teased for the Idol finale is...George Michael? [E! Online]
· Jake Gyllenhaal has been confirmed as the lead in the Jerry Bruckheimer-produced Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time for Disney. It's about time Jake got a superhero franchise! Now, if you'll excuse us, we're off to buy an Xbox 360 and every edition of the Prince of Persia series, mastering every last trap door and hidden level in time for the movie's release. We suggest you do the same. Jake deserves nothing less. [THR]

The sister of Billy Bob Thornton’s fourth wife, Pietra Cherniak, is coming forward with a lengthy and more than "adequite" online attack against the actor, who she claims has been stalking and harassing her for almost 10 years. In an email sent out to various gossip sites, Elysabeth Cherniak accuses the formerly entertaining, recently quiet Thornton of not only bugging her phone lines and sending vicious emails, but physically abusing her sister during their marriage and manipulating her father into prescribing him drugs. Speaking of drugs, Cherniak also claims Thornton has been dabbling in cocaine use over the past year. Though the actor’s rep is using the old “Billy Bob doesn’t know how to use email” excuse, this is one actor whose word we don’t automatically value more than their seemingly vindictive accuser. Details on Cherniak's claims, and her email in its entirety after the jump.

There's now another take on the story circulated yesterday by the Daily Mail claiming Scarlett Johansson's diva-like demands ultimately resulted in the actress failing to appear at the premiere of Woody Allen's new movie. From the LAT:

Depending on whether you align yourself with Gen X or Gen Y, you probably think that stop motion filmmaking hit its peak with Ray Harryhausen (Gen X) or the California Raisins (Gen Y). Well, after watching this evening's installment of Defamer To Do's, we're fairly confident that both generations will agree that Molly McAleer's stop motion work trumps them both. Enjoy!

We had barely recovered from last week's whirlwind The Bachelor finale—an unrepentantly romantic affair which saw Lorenzo Lamas marry off his youngest neglected daughter to a Mary Poppins background player—when the ABC reality TV mating rite began anew. On last night's The Bachelorette premiere, the gender scenario was reversed, with 25 eager-to-wed penis-havers (or at least eager to nab some sweet national airtime plus a chance at nailing a reality semi-star) vying for the attentions of one desirable, not-getting- any-younger- if-you- know-what- we-mean goddess. The lucky lady in question? The Bachelor season 11 finalist DeAnna Pappas, who you might remember as having had her still-beating heart plucked right out of her chest in an episode we like to refer to as Indiana Womack and the Gazebo of Commitmentphobic Doom.

Among the many questions we would love to ask Emmy-winning beach yogi Jeremy Piven, one of our most pressing would be how he manages to convince so many bitches to hug him. Somehow the Entourage ringleader has earned himself the Womanizer reputation ever since throwing out his bit-part baldie wigs and zooming package-first into the spotlight. And as we’ve reported in the past, it can’t be due to his masterful pick-up lines. But thanks to a photo shot this weekend, we have ourselves an answer. Piven’s success with women predictably has less to do with his bravado and more to do with one very studly prop.

Dazed & Confused star Matthew McConaughey began rehearsals this past weekend in Malibu for the third installment in the popular action film series. In the latest adventure, McConaughey plays a jogger who wakes up with a bomb strapped to his chest that must maintain a certain speed and remain fully clothed in the process. McConaughey calls the part of Sam Johnston to be his most challenging since he goes against every notion he has a human being. McConaughey said, "Being placed into a situation where if I do something that comes so naturally to me means that I'm going to die, I mean, this is the most personal I'm going to get as an actor."

It took several years for the ladies of Sex And The City to finally figure that whole cell phone thingie out (Carrie’s neon pink contraption in the series finale was one of the cutest/saddest attempts by a TV show to be “cool” we’ve ever seen) and, as these two leaked clips from the movie show, it’s taken them until now to conquer the Booty Text discussion. In the first clip — spoiler-phobes should avoid there eyes starting NOW — Sarah Jessica Parker brags to her assistant, played by Jennifer Hudson, about her texting ignorance before launching into a wink-filled lecture on what exactly your 20s, 30s and 40s are all about. And in the second, SJP brags to her hags about her brand new apartment before launching into a wink-filled lecture on boys ‘n real estate. We haven’t been winked at so many times since...the series finale of Sex And The City.

Just when we didn't think we could be muster interest in another dispatch from Cannes, along comes Spout's resourceful Karina Longworth with five words: "Macaulay Culkin group sex movie." Apparently Sex and Breakfast is among the hundreds of films screening at the Cannes market, featuring Culkin and Eliza Dushku (!) as a troubled Los Angeles couple consulting a sex therapist who prescribes open relationships to help liven things up. "After sex, I get this moment of clarity," Culkin says in closing, something he's likely pondered aloud before staring up a Peter Pan ceiling mural at Neverland Ranch. "Do you ever get that?"