Women's Wear Daily makes the New York Post explain yesterday's Page Six item about the mysterious, same-sex member of Tom Cruise's entourage at the Collateral premiere in Harlem, and wonders if Cruise is now a sitting duck for gossip columnists now that publicist Pat Kingsley is no longer patrolling his borders with a nightstick and a can of mace:
There are apparently at least four ways to fuck a pie: FilmJerk reports that a fourth installment of the American Pie movies is on the "fast track" to a September shoot. Universal seems to be discarding the major characters from the first three movies to tell the story of Stifler's little brother and his horny adventures at band camp, as most of original cast have priced themselves out of the budget for a new Pie movie. [Ed. note—Bet the guy that screwed Stifler's mom is probably available at a reasonable quote, i.e., a ham sandwich and a Cup o' Soup.] Today's meditation: If you copulate with baked goods and the movie goes straight to video, does your failing career make a sound?
Low Culture stumble upon the Friendster profile of Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle co-writer Jon Hurwitz and think they may have discovered the inspiration for the stoner flick's mildly-stereotype-deflating Asian characters within Hurwitz's testimonials. The profile is jammed with H&KGTWC plugs: Among Hurwitz's friends are the Friendster (advertorial) versions of Harold and Kumar, as well as the "real Kumar," actor Kal Penn. And don't miss the mention of the film's official website in Hurwitz's interests, or his nod to ecstasy-crazed HKGTWC scene-stealer Neal Patrick Harris in the entry for his favorite TV shows. We like the idea of Friendster as the repository for all viral-flavored movie-marketing detritus—go ahead, stuff it all in there, where we might have seen it a year ago while cruising for semi-anonymous internet sex with a third-degree "friend."
Anyone who's attained at least a kindergarten-level education is familiar with the rhyming philosophical maxim, "Whoever smelt it, dealt it." Adorable, pocket-sized, Harvard-schooled actress Natalie Portman may be formulating a Hollywood corollary with this anecdote from the set of Garden State: "Whoever tells the gossip rag about the mystery bathtub poo will blame the movie shoot's 50-person crew."
The LAT reports that Vincent Gallo's self-congratulatory monument to non-simulated, cinematic oral sex has been taken down from its perch above Sunset Boulevard—because it's gotten too much publicity. And the LAT somehow construes the billboard's removal as it having "backfired." Let's see...the gigantic image of Gallo getting blown over the Strip let the entire world know about The Brown Bunny, a micro-budgeted indie film whose previous claim to fame was Gallo's cursing of Roger Ebert's colon, and both the NYT and LAT did stories on it before "too much publicity" caused the ad's removal. We think the only backfiring may be that Gallo will probably never get another blowjob without a thorough check of the room at the Motel 6 for a digital video camera.
We heard a rumor that Bryan Singer, whose Bad Hat Harry Productions is was on a two-year overall deal at Fox, got an unceremonious heave-ho from the Fox lot once the trades announced he'd signed on to do the new Superman for Warner Brothers. Indeed, we indulged in something akin to "reporting" (i.e. picked up a phone) and called Fox looking for Bad Hat Harry's offices, which became mysteriously unreachable. (Yes, we know that studio switchboard operators are not the most reliable of workers, so we tried more than once.)
Vincent Gallo was everywhere today, explaining his decision to have his extremely artistic, cinematically-necessary beezer blown up to 60 feet tall to loom over motorists on Sunset Boulevard like some sort of sodomized gargoyle. This time he abandons the strange "truth in advertising" line he fed the NYT and instead appeals to Angelenos' insecurity about their "sophistication" in the LAT:
Just about everyone who's gotten their name above the title in a Hollywood film has probably at some point been one bounced rent check away from settling for a career of money-shots and playful stage-names evoking the size or hardness of one's member. What if Hugh Grant hadn't bounced back from his ill-advised encounter with Divine Brown and instead indulged his pornier theatrical instincts? Wawasworld compares the career path of our lovable Hugh with the theoretical work of "Porno Huge" Grant:
Just in time to give his meticulously-controlled image a final hetero spit-shine before the opening of Collateral this Friday (was Pat Kingsley this heavy-handed when she was running the show?), Tom Cruise tells the world, "I Love Women!" Cruise effuses on his 100% straight love of the gender that is born with vaginas, [Ed.note—No, silly, you probably can't have the sewn-on kind. Although he's probably so secure in his heterosexuality he wouldn't be threatened by you in the least!]:
We never doubted you, we promise. The resolution of our little e-mail problem revealed that you'd generously sent us a picture of Vincent Gallo's cinematic blowjob before we'd even asked. There's so much love welling up in our coal-black heart that we're going to need a moment alone. If you'd like to enjoy this photo without the helpful diagram, click on the image.
Has anyone seen the new billboard for The Brown Bunny on Sunset by the Chateau Marmont? You know, the one where Chloe Sevigny is fellating Vincent Gallo? Rush & Molloy have an item on the new ad, which is trying to sell tickets by screaming "Hey! Look! I got someone to blow me on camera! Aren't 'art' films great?"
We hear that after months of chatter about his usefulness to flop-eriffic Paramount Pictures, co-president Tom Jacobson is getting the boot. (We smell a "Jacobson ankles Par" headline in Variety coming any minute now. We do so love those.) Paramount's remaining co-president Donald DeLine supposedly announced the reshuffling in a staff meeting today, and rumor has it that head of production Karen Rosenfelt may be getting bumped up. Jacobson may play out the string on his contract by producing a couple of dead-end projects. You know, what usually happens when an exec is put out to pasture.
Legendary archivist of on-screen nudity Mr. Skin and iFilm collaborate on an impressive showcase of celebrities minus wardrobe. There are Oscar winners and B-listers, tasteful, character-necessary nude scenes, and shameful early-career, exploitative full-frontals. There are hoo-has and schlongs, tits and ass, and more than one appearance by Angelina Jolie, who we believe has a nudity rider that mandates she gets to throw off her top at least once per film. And there's some Tara Reid, whom we predict will soon only star in the kind of movies that will appear in showcases like this one. A girl's gotta get a return on her investment.
Electablog, among the blogging throng in Boston covering the DNC, snaps a pic of Young Hollywood in political action. In its ruthless quest to sign up every 15-year-old voter in the country, the Dems trotted out The OC's Benjamin McKenzie, who (according to someone who watched the speech) told the crowd that he "didn't vote last time, but will this time." That's the spirit, Ben. Hold on, an intern is telling me that 15-year-olds can't vote. Shit, does Chino know about this? Maybe he can lobby for some election reform! Just as long as we let them all vote by text message, it should work out at least as smoothly as it did last time.
