In: Pat Kingsley. When Tom Cruise decided to appear "less contrived" and more "urban," he publicly disassociated himself with his over-competent and waay-to-efficient handler of 14 years, Pat Kingsley, and went instead in a new direction, namely -- his sister, one Lee Anne DeVette. (Averted Gaze) Now, it appears, Kingsley is having the last laugh, according to Radar Online:
"Tom Cruise's over-the-top exclamations of love for rumored fiance Katie Holmes have his agents at CAA scrambling to congratulate him with the best gift they can think of: a gag order.
"Ever since the actor's disastrous appearance with his girlfriend of one month on Oprah, sources say his top wranglers at the agency, Rick Nicita and Kevin Huvane, have been frantically pleading with Cruise's sister/manager Lee Anne DeVette to 'rein Tom in.'
"'Kevin watched the show and was embarrassed for Tom,' says one agency insider. 'He called Rick immediately and said something had to be done.' The pair then phoned DeVette who took over her brother's famously well-oiled PR machine from PMK/HBH potentate Pat Kingsley earlier this year and read her the riot act, demanding that no further tapes of Cruise's T.J. Mackey-esque performance on Oprah be released. Huvane also put in a delicate call to Cruise, reminding his suddenly soul-bearing client that 'restraint can be a good thing.' Sources say Huvane blames DeVette for allowing her brother to spin 'out of control' on her watch ..."
"... Inside sources say Kingsley is so amused by DeVette's many missteps that she's been using them as object lessons for her junior publicists on how to ruin a well-choreographed career.
"'Tom has looked like a lot of things, but he's never looked like a joke,' another source notes."
The full story.
(image via Newyorkmetro)
Out: Tinsley Mortimer. Our favorite overpriviledged picklehead, Tins Mortimer (Apologies to Cindy Adams, who clawed her way from i
"The Hamptons are bound to become even more fashionable this summer as (Tinsley) Mortimer has signed on to be a correspondent for Plum Television. Wearing a bright coral tank top and rolled-up jeans, the Southampton resident recently taped her first segment on bathing suits, which aired this past weekend. She plans to tackle a new fashion theme/trend each week, and all products will be available locally in the Hamptons. Never mind that she has to wake up at 6am every Saturday. 'The scariest part is that it's live,' she said."
Live? That's kind of subjective depending on where you stand, Tins. From our perspective, for example, the prospect of a Tinsley Mortimer show seems rather dead to us.
In: The Star Spangles. We like the guys in The Star Spangles. We'd like them even if they didn't link to us on their website referring to this blog as a fellow traveller. We dig the attention. It makes us feel ... important. The feeling, by the way, is mutual, guys.
The Corsair needs an official rock band to play up and make our own. That would be an interesting saga in the Corsair Media Domination Tour (TM), no? Anyhoo, The Star Spangles are playing Asbury Park on Saturday, June 4th, my birthday. That is as good a reason to trek to jersey as you're ever going to get from me. So, maybe we should go check them out.
(image via warnerborthers)
Out: Chad Lowe. Born-to-be-mild "Beta Male" Chad Lowe is ... well, whatever it is that he is, he's not hott. He's "nonthreatening." Hott would be his wife, Hillary Swank, hilbilly turned covergirl and two time Oscar winner. And Chad's okay with that. It's not about the ego with him. He makes sure to have a cocktail waiting for Hill when she gets in in the evenings and if he doesn't mix it right, Hill cuffs him about the ears. It's all good.
Chad's lukewarm, noncompetitive, we guess. Low testosterone count, we suppose. Whatever. That's his story.
Anyway, this, according to that significant cultural artifact The National Enquirer:
"Chad Lowe is keeping just as busy as his Oscar winning actress Hilary Swank. He's in a Hallmark Channel movie entitled 'Fielder's Choice.' The story is about a bachelor who has to become guardian of his 8-year-old nephew."
We're sure we'll find something better to do on whatever night that this little chestnut is stinking up the airwaves. Like, say, watching our plants produce oxygen for one. That's a fate less soul destroying than having to sit through a "telemovie" (Averted Gaze) on the Hallmark Channel.
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