George Lucas is out of control. Not merely satisfied to digitally violate the original Star Wars trilogy into his up-to-the-minute, inferior vision by jamming in extra characters and effects wherever his evil computers allow, Lucas is spiffing up his first film, the little-seen THX 1138, for a "director's cut" showing at New York's Guggenheim museum in September. Is he really this bored? Georgie, why don't you save your processor cycles for making Harrison Ford looking less than 80 years old by the time you finally get around to making Indiana Jones 4? While you're at it, maybe you can digitally erase that whole Calista Flockhart thing.

Remember Brown Bunny? The one that Roger Ebert said wasn't even as entertaining as footage from a camera crammed up his ass? And then because of Ebert's bad review, Vincent Gallo put a curse on Ebert's colon? The Brown Bunny that's got a graphic depiction of Chloë Sevigny swallowing Gallo's tan snake? Yeah, that one. Hey, pretty soon you can see it in New York and Los Angeles; it just got a distribution deal.

Quick, without flipping over to IMDb: Do you know who Christopher McDonald is? He was Molly Shannon's asshole husband on the aborted Fox sitcom Cracking Up. He was asshole golfer Shooter McGavin in Happy Gilmore. Turn on any cable movie channel, and he's playing "The Asshole."

Yesterday, DreamWorks issued a press release praising the opening day sales for Shrek 2, which set the rather arcane box office record for a "midweek opening of an animated feature." Thanks for the info, DreamWorks! We were tossing and turning all night, wondering if you had a better Wednesday than Finding Nemo. Hopefully we'll open the trade papers this morning and see a full-page ad declaring, "DreamWorks is thrilled to report the hours of kundalini yoga have finally paid off! We actually got our own dicks in our mouths!" This, of course, would include a picture of DW head Jeffery Katzenberg executing the maneuver that so few actually pull off without severe spine damage.

indieWire's Eugene Hernandez talks with filmmaker Vincent Gallo about last year's controversial (read: roundly booed) Cannes Film Festival entry "The Brown Bunny" which has just now secured a North American distribution deal. You may remember actress Chlo Sevigny who engages in on-screen fellatio with Gallo was brought to tears by the whole ordeal. A year later Gallo admits "...the financiers were [in] way over their head." (Sorry.) "The Brown Bunny" will be released on August 27, at Landmark's Sunshine Cinema in New York and the Nuart Theater in L.A. so you have all summer to prepare for that bewildered/can't-turn-away reaction.

More on Shrek and Shrek 2 director Andrew Adamson's alleged proclivity for "appropriating" from his writers. Says a former associate:

Readers at Worth1000 digitally restore what the Photoshop airbrush hath taken away.

Gactor [Ed.note— Openly gay + actor = "gactor," we identify them so that casting agents don't do anything insane like cast them as a straight love interest.] Rupert Everett tells Dark Horizons that he'd like to play James Bond, but keep the character straight. He thinks Bond fans would "burn down MGM" if a gay actor played the hetero icon. We think the world is ready not just for a gay actor playing Bond, but for a gay Bond, even if just for those famous, subtly suggestive names of his love interests: Johnson Teabag, Homme Bangor, Remington Steele...the possibilities are staggering.

Page Six's Richard Johnson gets a "soft" confirmation from intentional porn star Ron Jeremy about a long-rumored bathroom stall showcase ho-down with accidental porn star Paris Hilton. The story goes they agreed to privately show each other what is widely available on video. [Page Six]

Oscar nominated Shrek screenwriter Ted Elliott writes about a dispute over the writing credits on Shrek 2 in a discussion forum on WordPlay, Elliott's and writing partner Terry Rossio's website. (Note: Andrew Adamson is the director of both Shrek movies).

If you ever wondered why Travis Bickle had that unsavory affinity for a teenage Jodie Foster or for firing guns into pimps, now you know it was the headaches. But thanks to Scorsesum, further carnage can be avoided.

After a period of momentary quiet in the GraydonGate scandal, a New York Observer editorial takes a poke at Vanity Fair editor/Hollywood bedfellow Graydon Carter (who is a former NYO editor):

You'd think that Hollywood's civilizing influence would have buffed up a few of France's rough edges, but the Cannes Film Festival has been buffeted with anarchy. First hotel workers went on strike, threatening our film stars' comfort level while abroad; some nearly fainted when they returned to bidets lacking that piece of paper announcing they'd been sanitized. Then the French drowned Michael Moore in the longest standing ovation in the history of standing, clapping, and fat, troublemaking documentarians. The anarchy has only deepened. Now Page Six reports that French thieves are pillaging the villas where our precious, exported talent is staying. Where is President Bush with his bombs now? This is certainly the greatest threat facing America, and the French really are overdue for a good surrender.

The estranged wife of Matrix co-director/gender reassignment candidate Larry Wachowski is accusing him of trying to sneak around their prenup by claiming that he helped created The Matrix before they were together. These things where millionaire creators of sweeping trilogies that begin with promise but end in disappointment allegedly circumvent prenuptial agreements while simultaneously struggling with the emotional pain of having their genitals chopped off to help realize their inner self never end well.

Tagline examines Troy's liberties with the text of The Iliad. For one, the Trojan war took about 10 years; the movie version's seems to take only a couple of weeks, in that spectacular, movie-world "compression of time" way. Also, Achilles' movie "cousin" Patroclus, was likely his gay lover, but big action stars don't get those in $250 million summer movies, unless you count the subtext of the partner/sidekick relationship (hello, Danny Glover and Mel Gibson!). But they did get some things right and stay true to the source. The historical Achilles also looked constipated and baffled by his language any time he was forced to speak more than one sentence at a time, and Brad Pitt was just doing the "Method" thing.

Scientists have tackled a problem that threatened to tear the very fabric of society: We don't see enough movie advertisements. At the recent Electronic Entertainment Expo (E3), models wore these T-shirts that feature embedded video screens showing trailers for I, Robot. This breakthrough takes us one step closer to the utopian ideal of porn projected on the inside of our eyelids.

Elvis Mitchell is apparently going to run the Sony Pictures New York office. What does this mean exactly? Well, for one thing you can be sure he won't be favoring any crapola-movies with Saturday Night Live cast members anytime soon. We took a sampling of Sony Pictures movies and went back to find out what Elvis had to say about them as a New York Times film critic.

We've been wracking our brains all day trying to find an excuse to post the pictures of Alexandra Kerry's see-through dress. It's a nipple shot, so Fleshbot is all over it. Kerry is the daughter of a presidential candidate, giving Wonkette the opportunity to sing the tits electric. We were rapidly approaching desperation. Isn't Alexandra a filmmaker or something? Has she ever been to Hollywood? Then, duh. It happened at the Cannes Film Festival. Potential First Daughter jugs, welcome to Defamer. (Click the picture at left for the NSFW version.)

Where's former NYT film critic Elvis Mitchell going? Back to Harvard for the Spring '05 semester. Elvis gets glowing reviews from his students on the semester just passed, like this from senior Daniel Fox:

Film buff Greg Allen catalogues the movies he's walked out of: