In: Tina Fey. And so begins the Tribeca Film Festival, with 30 Rock's Executive Producer Tina Fey's Baby Mama as the opener. Fey, the present heavyweight champion of American comedy -- a position once occupied by Richard Pryor and Jerry Seinfeld -- is, unlike David Chappelle, maximizing her moment in the sun. From the salmon-colored weekly:
"Baby Mama opened the 7th annual Tribeca Film Festival last night at the Ziegfeld Theater, and the temple of Hollywood in New York was packed full of celebrities tramping a red carpet that snaked down 54th Street almost to Sixth Avenue.
"It was a comedy-loving crowd, judging from the laughs that started even before the film did, during the pre-movie Tribeca Film Festival promo short about a man as a film junkie (it’s actually funnier than it sounds), and when the lights went up you could see the proof: Chevy Chase, Steve Martin, Lorne Michaels, Chris Kattan, and Molly Shannon were all there to bask in the easy charms of Tina Fey's slight comedy.
"... Ms. Fey, who is either the thinking man's biggest crush right now or the subject of an enormous public comedy backlash, stars as Kate Holbrook, who is a great producer at work but not such a great reproducer at home."
(image via bravotv)
Out: Jen, Top Chef. It didn't seem fair. The fauxhawked Jen, the last surviving lesbian, was booted for her phallic dish. Watching her explain the reasoning behind the presentation was excruciating. Excruciating. And when the plates were cleared, she was asked to leave. We cannot fail to note that there seemed to be an odd gender-thingie going on in the decision of who was to go. And it didn't quite strike us as fair (For the record, neither did Sheila's chauvanistic double-teamed eviction from Big Brother). Maybe there's a reason Senator Clinton is such a strong challenger? From TONY:
"At the judge’s table, Richard and Dale took the honors for their tofu dish, and both walked away with some Calphalon cookware. Jen was sent home for her oily cheese and a soggy-on-one-side-grilled-on-the-other slice of bread. Sending Jen to pasture means an elbow to the paunch for Top Chef’s gay quotient. Shucks!"
(image via Patrick McMullan)
In: Glenda Bailey. Remember when Glenda Bailey was supposed to be the dowdy in-house joke of the fashionista crowd? Sure, she was competent (otherwise she would not have gotten the job), but she didn't have elan, like Anna Wintour. Things change. From Fashionweekdaily:
"Sunshine streamed through the Hearst Tower's glass façade at Wednesday's opening reception for the exhibition Harper's Bazaar & American Fashion: 75 Years of Headlines & Hemlines. Inspired by the book American Fashion, which was commissioned by the CFDA and published in September 2007 by Assouline, the gallery space was transformed into a retrospective gallery faeturing visionary fashions and iconic images. Hosted by Glenda Bailey, Cathie Black, Michael Clinton, and Diane von Furstenberg, the event enabled guests to admire 60 prints outfitted in vintage and modern designs from CFDA designers ... Despite her arbiter-of-style status, Bailey suffers for fashion like the rest of us mortals. Her magnificent Oscar de la Renta sandals were causing a bit of discomfort. 'I really need to sit down for a few minutes,' she said before finding a stool next to Matthew Modine."
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