A Little of the Old In and Out
In: Helena Christenson. Apparently, the mind-blowingly, crazy-insanely beautiful supermodel (The Corsair swoons at the very mention of all things Helena Christensen; We long to make stunning little mocha-colored children with her) wants to be the official photographer for the Prince Charles-Camilla Parker Bowles nuptuals, according to FemaleFirst:
"The stunning supermodel, a keen photographer who recently shot the ad campaign for Danish lager Carlsberg, would love to be given the responsibility at the nuptials on April 8.
"She said: 'I've photographed weddings for friends so I'd love to do Charles and Camilla. I�d definitely do it if I was asked.'
"Although a spokesperson for the palace insisted no decision on the photographer had been made, sources claim Helena would be a popular choice with Charles� sons, Princes William and Harry."
And Ron; The Corsair will cosign to anything that puts her out there in the media.
Out: Sideways. Ouch! No buzz! According to The Old Gray Lady, delivered in her most prudish, Victorian "Thou Shalt Not" kind of voice:
"Critics for the most part found (Sideways) delightful and described Miles as an oenophile, adult viewers flocked to the clever comedy, and the positive buzz bolstered tourism in the Santa Ynez Valley, where the movie was filmed.
"But a much more critical appraisal is coming from alcohol treatment professionals, recovering alcoholics and others who say that while Miles obviously suffers from alcohol addiction, his illness does not seem to register with audiences, just as it is overlooked in the movie."
The Old Gray Lady's panties are in a twist, to be sure. We'll leave aside the pervy onomatopoetics of the word "oenophile," which -- eew -- sounds disgustingly provocative, but in a kind of good way. But we digress. Miles is a "winesnob," Old Gray Lady, a pretentious little priss about his booze, while full-blown alcoholics are, well, slutty in their consumption of the grape. An lush would drink Muskatel from Cloris Leachman's bra if he wanted to get a buzz on. No man who utters the line, "No, if anyone orders Merlot, I'm leaving. I am NOT drinking any fucking Merlot" can be properly construed as being an alcoholic. All clear?
In: Madonna as Candy Darling. The Corsair has been hard on Madonna in the past, oh so very hard on her, and "that disgusting voodoo" that she practices, but Madonna as Candy Darling ... sounds ... interesting. Organic even, dare we say. According to the Dish:
"An insider says, 'Madonna has been desperate to make a film where she can earn respect for her acting abilities. She is still trying to shake off the bad publicity from the movie Swept Away. She sees this as her big chance.
"'She has wanted to play this part for so long because she feels so strongly about the character.
"'She said she would do anything for the part and has agreed to work for free.'"
Out: Chaunce Hayden. This guy is seriously creepy. He's spinning this bad PR into it's-all-about-me. Stern will hammer him about this on Monday; it should be brutal. Is he this tone deaf? And since when is he a "journalist"? Creepy. You can see him hauling ass to anyone who is listening to parlay some "I'm being persecuted by the government."
In: Will Smith. Trying to toughen up and "street" his image of being as mild as Orange Pekoe tea, Will2K, in full thug mode, kissed a reporter in Berlin, "breaking off a taste" for himself, according to the AP:
"... Smith was asked in Berlin whether he had slept with his "Hitch" co-star Eva Mendes.
Instead of replying, he mumbled 'I know what she needs, I know what she needs,' referring to the reporter.
"He leapt down to the audience of journalists, grabbed the questioner, and as he kissed her lowered her to the floor.
"The lucky lady? Mirjeta Baraliu from Kosovo."
Haven't the Kosovar's suffered enough, Will Smith?