Been trying to get an interview with Mel. Gibson. No luck so far. Frankly, I’m not even sure Mel knows I’m alive. I suspect his Los Angeles press agent, Mr Alan Nierob, has not been passing on my emails.
It started in April last year with a long and possibly overly involved interview request that, in hindsight, might have been the wrong approach. The basic synopsis was that, yes, Mel’s a prick.
But who isn’t? I also intimated that Mel’s anti-Semitism and wife-raging might be a form of PTSD.
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Gah. The Golden Globes. If you don’t like frocks, and can’t bear self-indulgent speeches thanking God, long-dead parents, a dog etc, you’d be forgiven for not giving the telly even the slightest glance this lunchtime. Except that is, for Ricky Gervais.
Yep, the Brit funny man who made working in a drab back office in a west-London suburb hilarious, could save the Golden Globes. And all earnest, glamour-loving Americans. From themselves.
Tonight will be Ricky’s third time hosting the champagne and taffeta-fuelled, red-carpet fiesta. But after managing to offend nearly everyone in Hollywood last year, this year’s invitation surprised many.
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Dear big Hollywood cigar-smoking guys: If you make a cake and everyone likes it, you can make it again. Nobody minds if you use exactly the same ingredients, the same oven, and the same hilarious apron with ‘Kiss The Cook’ printed on it. You could even say that it’s a cake ‘remake’.
Now, this is the important part, so I want you to put down your cigar and read this very carefully:
MOVIES ARE NOT CAKE.
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Here’s the thing about having the time of your life. You only have it once. You can’t go back there.
That’s why it’s stupid for Hollywood to say they want to remake the 1987 classic Dirty Dancing.
Now, in purely business terms you can see why. There have been lots of remakes lately. But this one should be off limits.
Every now and again, I like to watch men and women in technicoloured fetish suits pummel each other for a good 90 to 120 minutes.
Earlier this week, I did just that and took the time to catch Marvel’s latest technogasm, Thor. It was awesome.
Stuff blew up, there were heaps of bright colours and Anthony Hopkins proved that elastic-less eye patches are indeed the way of the future.
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Many of us wouldn’t recognise old Hollywood anymore but when Elizabeth Taylor made her acting debut in the early 1940s, the glamour and glitz was going full pelt.
Impossibly beautiful women and ridiculously handsome men were gadding about, making movies in exotic locations and being chauffeured to cocktail parties.
Smoking long cigarettes and wearing elbow-length gloves, they’d swan around swimming pools in Christian Dior evening dress; the kind of life any ordinary person could only ever dream about.
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Sometimes, when I’m particularly sleepy, I drink coffee. It’s my little way of pistol-whipping my brain in the face and letting it know I’m in charge. There are times when I simply can’t afford to let old Grey Matter drift off and have to resort to sweatshop tactics circa 1982.
Often, however, this just doesn’t cut it. Scientists tell us that at any given time, we are using but a small fraction of the squishy stuff inside our domes. The rest, apparently, is busy playing solitaire, visiting AwkwardFamilyPhotos.com or sharing a spliff.
This, simply put, is not good enough. And so, in a desperate search for scientifically-sound solutions, I have once again turned to Hollywood.
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American celebrity culture and Australian politics don’t often make for useful comparisons - but then, it’s not every day that Charlie Sheen comes along.
Sheen is a highly amusing egomaniac but - unlike most Australian politicians - he also tells the truth. “I believe in the truth and that’s what rules me”, Sheen said in an interview with Andrea Canning for the ABC network in America. He certainly does.
When asked to describe the last time he used drugs, Sheen said, “I probably took more than anyone could survive… I was banging seven gram rocks… that’s how I roll. I have one gear—go.” It’s the answer no one else would’ve given even if they had’ve banged seven gram rocks (which I assume means consuming a lot of cocaine).
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Like every other family values-oriented Australian I have been deeply impressed this week by Charlie Sheen’s commitment to his children and his efforts to avenge their removal from his custody by removing their mother’s teeth.
You rarely get that sort of passionate parenting these days.
As many people will know, Sheen’s two-year-old twins were placed in the care of his ex-wife Brooke Mueller and taken away from the house he shares with two porn stars.
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In 2002, a triumphant Nicole Kidman swooped gawkily onto stage to collect her Best Actress statue for The Hours.
With war raging in Afghanistan and memories of the 9/11 attacks still fresh, many had wondered whether the ceremony should even go ahead .
“Why do we come to the Academy Awards when the world is in such turmoil?” Kidman’s awkward question rang out over the auditorium. “Because Art is Important.”
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Follow The Punch’s updates of triumphs and faux pas from the Oscars red carpet with our stellar fashion correspondent Nedahl Stelio throughout the afternoon.
MOST UN-BLACK SWAN LIKE: MILA KUNIS
It’s more than that, it’s positively pretty. All lacey and lilac-y and girly and flowy, Mila, who not only managed to hold her own with Natalie Portman in the film, proves that she ain’t bad in the style stakes either.
For her very first Oscars, this is stellar choice. It says, “I’ve made it, kind of, but I’m not going to be flashy about it. I’m keepin’ it real.”
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The first ever Emmy awards were presented at the Hollywood Athletic Club today in 1949.
It’s Tuesday at The Punch. What’s on your mind? Share it here.
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There are a lot of therapists in Beverly Hills rolling their eyes right now.
Through a performance at the Golden Globes that has outraged the HFPA and other acronyms, British comedian Ricky Gervais may have crushed his Hollywood dreams (he gave it a fair whack in Ghost Town, but this may really sink him).
While awards show hosts traditionally prey upon the beautiful people before them, Ricky appears to have taken things a little too far and upset some of the industry’s biggest names.
So Anne Hathaway and Jake Gyllenhaal have stripped off for the cover of Entertainment Weekly. Surprised?
It’s becoming a trend in Hollywood to gain attention through everything but their actual profession -acting.
It doesn’t shock me though that these two got partially naked to promote their new film, Love & Other Drugs. Hathaway, 27, plays liberal artist Maggie Murdock in the movie, opposite Gyllenhaal’s commitment-phobic Viagra salesman Jamie Randall.
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I have not read the book Eat Pray Love, nor have I seen the movie Eat Pray Love.
In fact I rarely eat, rarely love and haven’t prayed since the third quarter of the AFL Grand Final.
I am therefore in a uniquely untainted and unbiased position to be able to say that this deformed abomination of fertiliser-grade horsesh-t should be blasted back into the hellish furnace of retardation from whence it came.
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Hollywood actor James Dean died in a car crash today in 1955.
Welcome to Wednesday at The Punch. What’s on your mind? Share it here.
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Another day, another tape exposing Mel Gibson as a wretch. In the latest recording his ex-girlfriend asks him what kind of man hits a woman with a child in her hands, “breaking her teeth twice in the face”. Gibson shouts back: “Oh, you’re all angry now? You know what, you f—king deserved it.”
Troubled artists are hardly a modern phenomenon but the ways in which their darker sides get exposed certainly are. Their worst character traits are amplified by “Hollywood enablement”, the destructive modern culture of the Thirty Mile Zone that allows stars to believe they can behave as they wish, supported as they are by coteries of flunkies and yea-sayers instead of actual friends. By the time this behaviour takes hold - as in the case of Gibson but also arguably in that of the much younger Lindsay Lohan - they have no fear of failure any more because their success is already secure.
In the best piece I’ve read on the affair since the first tape emerged, Tina Brown at The Daily Beast outlines how it makes a devastatingly strong case for celebrity leaks. She calls it a “high watermark in celebrity outing”, arguing the most unsettling aspect is not his racism - of which much has been made over his use of a particular word - but his vile misogyny. Amen to that.
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It’s Tuesday at The Punch
The Hollywood sign was constructed on this day in 1923 in the hills above Hollywood in Los Angeles. It originally read “Hollywoodland” and cost US $21, 000 to build.
What’s on your mind? Share it here
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Hollywood divorce stories usually fall into three categories. The good-for-a-laugh-because-they-have-more-money-than-sense kind of story, the too-painful-to-read-story-of-betrayal (most recently, Sandra Bullock) and the unbelievable-jaw-dropping-can-they-really-do-that, kind. The subjects of today’s Lightweight are an example of the third kind.
Cue Diandra Douglas, the 52 year old ex-wife of actor Michael Douglas, who is claming half of the profits from his latest movie, Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps.
The Herald Sun reports that the ex-Mrs Douglas is, “citing a provision in the couple’s 2000 divorce that promises half the profits of any movies done by her famous husband during their two decades as man and wife -including residuals, merchandising and ancillary rights.”
But Mr Douglas, 65 years of age and currently married to Catherine Zeta Jones, is not having any of it. He’s arguing that his latest flick is a “sequel” and not a “spin-off” of the 1987 original and therefore, doesn’t count. And it’s a fair retaliation, when you consider that he’s reported to have already paid his ex-wife approximately $US45 million in their original divorce settlement.
But what do you think? Does she have a right to the money or not?
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The Government of Iceland last night announced Bruce Willis and a team of strapping young oil rig workers would be helicoptered into the heart of Eyjafjallajokull to place a cooling device it is hoped will “switch off” the volcano and prevent further travel disruptions.
The extraordinary measures were inspired by the US Environment Protection Agency, which has enlisted the help of Hollywood director James Cameron to deal with the catastrophic oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico.
Which half of this story isn’t true? Ok, it’s the first bit, but the second half sounds delightfully out there.
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Gosh, I wish Lady GaGa had gone to the Golden Globes, then at least there would have been something to look at.
The red-carpet at this year’s ceremony was beige, botoxed and booooring. Now, I love a fabulous couture frock more than most. Tulle, corsets and vintage diamonds are enough to make me swoon but after a decade of vanilla, almost earnest choices in award-show dressing, I’m nostalgic for some of the fashion mavericks of old.
Who can forget Bjork wearing a taxidermied swan as a dress? Or Celine Dion in a white tuxedo worn backwards. With a hat. Demi Moore in a bedspread complete with built-in bike shorts.
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It’s the weekend @ The Punch
Today in 2004 Christopher Reeve aka ‘Superman’ died of heart failure, aged 52.
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Here we go again, another sob story for the saddest, loneliest woman who ever lived. Ugh. I’m sick of Jennifer Aniston being crucified by every glossip mag on the planet for her “not-good-enough” love life. Not good enough for who?
Just imagine that every time a story appeared about you or your work, your ex and his new wife were also mentioned, as though you’re inextricably attached and can never hope to move on with the amount of horrendous diatribe spouting about him, and her, and you.
You’re not involved anymore – doesn’t anyone get it?
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This is Vanessa Hudgens, one of the teen stars to come out of Disney’s insanely successful High School Musical trilogy.
She’s also the girlfriend of the most lusted after young male star in the world, Zac Efron (he even eclipses Twilight’s Robert Pattinson as the love object du jour), is currently starring in a successful new movie, Bandslam, has a coveted cosmetics contract with Neutrogena and … she has just come through another nude photo scandal.
Yes, another nude photo scandal. Great achievement, non? All by the ripe old age of 20.
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Earlier this week I was banging on about what a shame it is that nobody much cared about the space program anymore.
So this morning, at the risk of sounding like some kind of space obsessed nut, I was thrilled to see NASA release this new footage of the moon landing to commemorate the 40th anniversary of the Apollo 11 mission.
What is even better about this story is that NASA had to borrow four video tapes of the landing from around the world after taping over their original footage.
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