Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Let Them Eat Wedding Cake

I have been bored to tears by the so-called "gossip" of late! Today the "big" news is that Tom Cruise got dumped by his studio for being a nutty nutball. Yawn. Although I will say that this little exchange between gazillionaire head of Viacom Sumner Redstone and Cruise's production partner Paula Wagner did make me giggle:
Sumner Redstone, chairman of Viacom Inc., Paramount's parent company, stunned the Cruise camp Tuesday when he told the Wall Street Journal that the studio was not renewing its pact with Cruise, which was due to expire August 31, because, "As much as we like him personally, we thought it was wrong to renew the deal. His recent conduct has not been acceptable to Paramount."

Said Wagner: "That came out of nowhere. It seems erratic. Paramount needs to spend more time identifying its goals and what films it wants to make. This is Hollywood's oldest film studio, with a legacy to uphold."

Paula Wagner, I salute your incredible balls! Calling Sumner Redstone's company "erratic" for getting rid of Tom Cruise is like a really crazy pot telling a ginormous kettle that it is, in fact, black. Yowza! What chutzpah!

Here's an artist's rendering:



There is nothing else of much interest (besides the gag-inducing rumor that Paris P-Hole Hilton is sleeping with oily oil heir--and inventor of the "Fire Crotch" craze that is sweeping the nation like a bad case of herpes--Brandon Davis: All together now! EEEEEEWWWWWW!), except the fact that I would give my left arm and a kidney to attend the lavish, three-million-dollar Beyonce Knowles/Jay-Z nuptials, which, according to Star Magazine, will be the awesomest event in the History of Humankind, and will put to utter shame such small-fry affairs as the under-reported, lacking in star-power Big Bang of the universe, the kinda low-brow birth of Jesus Christ, the boring ole sacking of Rome by the Vandals, the dinky Louis XVI/Marie Antoinette wedding, and the rather paltry Lady Di wedding to Prince Charles:
The former Destiny’s Child member is planning a late November wedding on the Caribbean island of Anguilla, reports the tab. Guests at the bash will dine on $300,000 worth of Beluga caviar as well as lobster and Italian truffles and will wash it down with $200 bottles of Dom Perignon. Knowles’ wedding dress will be modeled after Princess Diana’s, reports the Star, and among the guests invited are Oprah Winfrey and U.N. head Kofi Annan.

I'm in a Marie Antoinette kind of mood (as usual), so here's a picture of her for the hell of it:



Finally, on a personal and yet still Frenchy note, some loyal and perhaps extra-attuned Felt Up readers may remember that I have long held as a point of personal pride the fact that I have never succumbed to seeing twee French movie "Amelie," and vowed never to do so. Well, "never" lasted approximately three years, as I broke down in a moment of weakness and watched it on TV this past Sunday. Why did I not want to see this movie? Because it seemed to be so full of whimsy and charm, that's why. Whimsy, I say! Charm! Ugh!

I hated the ad campaign, the poster, the pixie gamine look of Audrey Tatou, the very name "Audrey Tatou" itself, the very name "Amelie" itself, the whole Frenchy-frenchness of it all. To paraphrase Lou Grant upon meeting Mary Richards on "The Mary Tyler Moore Show," "Amelie" had spunk. I hate spunk. However, I have to say that I enjoyed the film very much. It may very well be the perfect movie to watch on a Sunday afternoon, nursing a hangover and suffering from a touch of ennui. All right? Happy now? Satisfied? I have to go now and give up my membership in the Cranky Curmudgeons Who Refuse To Submit To The Charms Of "Amelie" Club. I believe there is some kind of shame ceremony involved, where they make you stick your hand in a barrel of legumes, eat brie, and drink a tiny glass of port. Quelle horreur! Somehow I will survive...

1 comment:

chepo said...

i am proud of you for watching Amelie. Now if I could get you to watch battlestar galactica...