Ariel "Ari" Z. Emanuel is a powerful talent manager and head of the Endeavor Agency. Emanuel is a dedicated activist and passionate opinion-haver; his pet causes include environmentalism, criticism of the Bush regime, and Mel Gibson blacklisting advocacy—all of which he's blogged about in an ongoing column at The Huffington Post.


Assistant beer pong is a competitive drinking game played between teams of Hollywood assistants. It involves the bouncing of ping pong balls into a triangular formation of beer-filled cups, leading inevitably to sloppy inter-agency procreative activities.


Baby eating (also called baby gobbling and newborn munching) is the consumption of fresh nurslings by CAA agents (see: CAA Death Star). An ancient agent delicacy, their fleshy infant meat is said to enhance negotiation potency.


Bee attacks are an infrequent but repeat occurrence on studio lots, resulting in no known executive deaths or stings. Some consider the swarms to be a harbinger of the coming End of Days (see Apocalypse, pop culture).


Ben Silverman Threat Level is a color-coded threat advisory scale alerting Defamer readers to NBC rock star/co-chairman Ben Silverman's impending shitcanning, due directly to his failed efforts to lift the network from last place by resuscitating 1980s junk entertainment about talking cars and steroid-addled pugilists.


The Butterscotch Stallion is a nickname coinage for popular comedic movie star Owen Wilson, used first in a PrivacyWatch submission, and quickly championed by this site as the definitive Wilson nomenclature. As you can see from this magazine cover, it stuck.


The CAA Death Star is the name Defamer gave to the agency's new headquarters in Century City. Commissioned by partners Richard Lovett, Bryan Lourd, Kevin Huvane, Rob Light, David O'Connor and Rick Nicita, the planet-sized superweapon and agenting station was designed to obliterate everything in its path, while at the same time offering agents a more feng shui-friendly work environment.


Cokepants refers to the blow-filled slacks worn by high-profile shock starlet Lindsay Lohan after being stopped by police in 2007 for commandeering a Denali, then proceeding to take its terrified hostages on a high-speed chase through West L.A. She would later deny ownership of the lo-rise narcotic-vessel.


Commenters are Defamer's illustrious, if tact-deficient, feedback-driven readership. At best, their searing wit and valuable insights can often improve upon a post; at worst, they can cause a fallen teen idol to plummet to all-new depths of utter hopelessness and self-loathing—particularly when their questionably motivated, Marlboro-huffing assistants read them to them out loud.


Defaker was an ill-conceived online marketing tool based on Defamer, and used to promote Aaron Sorkin's short-lived network-sketch-comedy-show drama, Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. Among its many strategic missteps, it allowed for user comments, leading network-planted plot points to stand alongside viewers' savage critical assessments of the poorly received series. (See also: "Aaron Sorkin, I'll be seeing you soon! Posted by: Crack")


The image associated with this post is best viewed using a browser.Entourage Acknowledgement refers to an episode of the popular HBO comedy, in which agent Ari Gold is led to Defamer by his assistant, Lloyd, thereby lending the site added legitimacy and prestige by merely being mentioned in the same breath as dialogue like, "Is that smirk for me or are your Ben Wa balls shifting?"


Fauxteurs is a Defamer coinage referring to a breed of highly successful and unapologetically commercial Hollywood director, whose rise to prominence has as much to do with preternatural self-promotional gifts as it does with delivering eye-pleasing phoned-in hackery under budget and on time. (See related articles Casting Couch, Starlet-Stuffed Hot Tub Orgy at Bob Evans' Place)


The Grove Trolley is a nostalgic attraction of a popular outdoor L.A. shopping mall, and a useful means of making the 80-yard trek from Banana Republic to the dancing waters if you're pressed for time.


The Gays are an influential show business minority majority, whose tastes and proclivities have steadily encroached upon the once heterocentric Hollywood norm. Their influence can be felt everywhere from televised dancing competitions to this year's Oscars, where host Hugh Jackman offered Nixon-channeling also-ran Frank Langella an impromptu lapdance, as a half-dozen Indian children looked on in utter confusion.


Grazerhead is the official headshot of Brian Grazer, sent to us by Imagine Entertainment with instructions that it accompany any posting about the highly cultivated superproducer. It grew steadily in size until eventually emancipating itself as a self-sufficient superproducing entity in early 2008. It was later co-opted by greedy corporate interests, who plastered it on everything from Halloween masks to suntan lotion bottles.


Orphan collecting is a popular hobby adopted by A-list celebrities in the early 21st Century. It involves scouring the globe for rare and wonderful specimens, which they then trade amongst each other, either by bartering them, or by using them as collateral in competitive orphan-collector games like Orphan Bowling and Orphan Poker.


Kiefer sightings are the rarest and most precious of all Hollywood PrivacyWatch sightings. They occur in dive bars near or around the trendy Silver Lake area of Los Angeles, and frequently involve the very inebriated star of 24 leading a crowd of strangers in a rousing chorus of Pogues and/or The Clash songs, followed by a shrub attack.


The Pop Culture Apocalypse is a doomsday foretold in the Book of Reservations. It states there will come a day when Hollywood produces nothing but irrelevant boardgame movies, unnecessary remakes, and disappointing sequels, and will test Mankind's crappy-movie-loving nature by the loosing of Satan* to rain hellfire upon our multiplexes. (*Or Lisa Rinna, depending on scheduling availabilities.)


Strike Baby (also the Incredible Picketing Baby) rose to prominence during the devastating WGA strike of 2008, quickly becoming a potent symbol of union solidarity. Also, her poopie-diapers offered a pungent metaphor for AMPTP president Nick Counter's enduring weinerdom.


Antediluvian Viacom Potentate™ Sumner Redstone and Future Galactic Dictator™ Les Moonves are immortal and all-powerful media Siths overseeing one of the world's most influential and far-reaching entertainment multiconglomerates. Both possess laser vision, mind-control skills, and cartoonishly outsized male members.


Sundance Fever is a viral infection that afflicts mainly bloggers and film journalists at independent film festivals; it is exacerbated by cold temperatures, high altitudes, and incredibly douchey looking hipsterbears who dance on podiums. As there is no known cure, health professionals recommend covering the symptoms with as many complimentary Absolut Mango cocktails as your body can hold without actually losing consciousness.


TOMKAT is an acronym. It stands for Thetan-Operative, Moppet-Kidnapping Android Twosome.

We hope that was of some use to you.

Now for some parting thoughts:

I found Defamer while chained to a desk at Lions Gate (this was before the studio had sold the space in their name for a cool $30 mil to a gullible Saudi prince with Hollywood aspirations), and had I not discovered Mark Lisanti's sprawling online epic , I really don't know if I would have made it through. Mark gave me a gigantic break and I'll always owe him one for it. He's also the funniest person I'll probably ever know, and sharing the echo chamber inside Mr. Defamer's head with him for three years was just about the greatest experience ever.

STV and Kyle: You guys are hands down the best there is, but I won't go on and on about it because we're going to continue working together, and that's like the old romcom cliché of having really hot sex with someone you meet in a bar, and then running into them in the elevator the next day at a new job and realizing they're your new blogging partner. Or something. I don't know—that analogy went off the rails somewhere.

Matt and Julie, I never tire of your hilarious takes on Baby Pirates and Dogs with Human Children and various other obscure cable reality shows I'm still not entirely convinced exist. To the GM gang past and present, thanks for your tireless help and virtual companionship. Molls, I miss ya dearly. Nick, my life will be all the emptier without your daily memos filled with indecipherable traffic charts. Oh gosh, the orchestra is starting to play me off. Who am I forgetting? My family, my stylists, my Restalyne hygienist, and..and..and—

Oh yeah! You guys—the sharpest damn readers anywhere. I might not know what you guys look like, but coming to work every day was like being in the best writers' room on the lot.

This isn't goodbye. This is just another beginning.

- Seth

For starters, Defamer isn't going anywhere. True, it's undergone a series of drastic physical transformations over the years—starting out as a skinny, fresh-faced L.A. dirt rag, growing eventually into a full-service showbiz-skewering media hub, and now evolving into its current incarnation as Gawker's Hollywood dispatch—but you can still come here daily for all your salacious showbiz gossip needs.

But if it's specifically the voices of outgoing editors Seth, STV, and Kyle you seek, there is another option coming down the pipeline. This Spring, the three of us will have the pleasure of launching—or rather re-launching—Movieline magazine as a pop culture site: Movieline.com. For the new generation of studio stapler-dodgers among you, Movieline was a must-read back in the '90s—a Cahiers du cinéma on crack that was unabashedly in love with the movies, but never reluctant to stick it to the Hollywood Man. We think it's time to bring it back, with a wider breadth of pop culture coverage. Shoot us your e-mail addresses for updates about the launch.

Choices! Everybody loves choices! High five!

• Movieline.com

Meanwhile, another prominent, if less lauded, Hollywood star and ardent wrestling fan has become a very different kind of WWE casualty. Finding himself with some free time on his hands ever since Delgo failed to make him the toast of the CGI V.O. artist community, Freddie Prinze Jr. took Vince McMahon up on an offer to join the SmackDown creative team.

Prinze left the post last week, and the rumor was that he was let go for leaking plot spoilers online. Not so, according to this weirdly written report from wrestling trade site 24wrestling.com:

There has been speculation among WWE staffers that Freddie Prinze Jr. was one of the creative writers leaking WWE information. However, the official reason Prinze left WWE because of the demanding schedule, which is one of the main reasons other writers have departed from the company.

We may never truly know whether Prinze's midlife career change was cut short because he released the name of Jeff Hardy's mystery attacker (GIANT SPOILER ALERT: It was Christian!), or because the Scooby Doo 2 - Monsters Unleashed star could never quite hack the rigors of devising intricate storylines for McMahon's chemically enhanced army of face-sitting leotard-warriors. Either way, there's no denying the professional sport has lost one of its great ringwriters. Keep plugging away, Freddie. We need voices like yours on the mats.

• Backstage News On Prinze Leaving: Was He The Leak? [24wrestling.com]

The endorsements were the first things to go—never before had a simple milk mustache given off such foamy-mouthed menace. The next logical thing to fall was the singer's acting career.

Brown was wisely easing himself into Hollywood. First came a recurring role as a band geek on The O.C., followed by small parts in Stomp the Yard and This Christmas. Most recently, he had completed filming on Bone Deep. A mid-budget heist drama with a porny title, Deep boosted Brown's marquee value with a supporting role alongside T.I.—unlike Brown, the rare pop star who can actually act. But the part didn't require Brown to carry the movie, or even be particularly good: Its more experienced stars—Paul Walker and Hayden Christensen—would do the heavy lifting, their combined, unidimensional-actorbot talents sure to render Brown's line-readings relatively nuanced by comparison.

The film's marketers have a bit of dilemma on their hands, as Brown—who, let's face it, was cast to sell tickets to fans—is now weapons-grade box office poison. Hip-hip blog Woooha is floating the logical rumor that distributor Sony Screen Gems is scrambling to "erase" him from all movie poster, trailer and TV ads, though he'll remain in the final cut.

Above, watch a E! News segment highlighting Brown's Bone Deep involvement that aired just days before the Grammy Night of Infamy. Coming at us "guns blazin', gangsta-style," there was little hint that "juggling music, acting, and Rihanna" would soon result in the show-stopping tumbling of all three.

• Chris Brown film career in jeopardy; "erased" from new movie [woooha.com]

Milk screenwriter Dustin Lance Black's acceptance speech provided the most vivid example of the latter: A tearful testimony of what it meant to live life openly as a gay man, it ended with comforting reassurance to the millions of fledgling gay boys—and smattering of girls—out there in the Oscars audience. Echoing a similar Harvey Milk speech that inspired Black himself to come out of the closet, the writer promised these bullied Beyoncé fans that they too have worth, and will one day escape the small towns in which they're trapped (whether by wheelchair, or some other, less literal-minded literary device).

Beautiful, right? Surely a sentiment with universal appeal, and one that would bring a tear to even the most child-blindingest of Mumbai slumlords. That is, if it hadn't been edited out of India's Oscars broadcast. A tipster writes:

It is my understanding that Dustin Lance Black's acceptance speech was edited for the rebroadcast of the Oscars in India such that the mention of being gay was removed. The actual broadcast began at 630a.m., so it's aired in real time and also taped and rebroadcast later in the day. My source for the info saw both broadcasts of his acceptance speech, so there you are.

If that's true, it's an unconscionable act of censorship and a giant step backwards for what was touted as the most global Oscars in history. We mean, how would they like it if every time A. R. Rahman or an adorable Slumdog Millionaire orphan took to the stage to praise their country and culture, The Abbey's Official Viewing Party cut to more "acceptable" footage of Baz Luhrmann mouthing the words to his big musical number?

Variety reports the director—an unabashedly quirky filmmaker whose lo-fi, kinetic visual flourishes have influenced everything from Coke commercials to Oscar opening numbers—will be taking over. What does that portend for the project? Look for Hornet to sacrifice Chow's jokey, action-heavy Hong Kong cinema aesthetic, replaced instead by Gondry's decidedly more meta flights of fancy. His touch could ultimately prove to make all the difference in bringing some of the script's more static scenes alive, however, such as when the Hornet kicks back with a bowl of Funyuns next to bong-hogging sidekick Kato, the two unmotivated crime-fighters giggling hysterically at a Sweded version of their own misadventures.

• Michel Gondry set for 'Green Hornet' [Variety]

Let's face it—we've all had better years. First Ledger. Then Loki. Now this. But tonight, we're going to ask you to forget all your troubles, forget all your cares, and instead let quintuple-threat host Hugh Jackman —acting, singing, dancing, improv-comedy and puppetry of penis, for those keeping score at home—whisk Oscars' legendary audience of one billion viewers (accurate to within plus-or-minus 989 million) to a happy place, if only for four interminable hours. Enough preamble! Let's get on with the show.

As always, updates will appear magically directly beneath us.

9:02 Okay, guys. That's that! I hope you had a good time. And I just want to thank you all for four amazing years at Defamer. It's been an experience I will never forget.

Abramovitch, out.

8:54 WINNER: BEST PICTURE, SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE. We'll need an intern to confirm this, but we believe that's the brownest-looking Oscars stage we've ever seen. Fox spent their travel budget well—those smiling kids' faces are being beamed around the planet, and should be good for undoing some of that monkey-cartoon bad press. Right, Rupe?

8:52 Is it just us or is Spielberg styling his hair to look a bit like he's wearing Mickey Mouse ears now? Way to suck up to the new boss!

8:43 You bet your fucking ass I'm a Commie homo-loving son of a gun. WHOO! NO ON PROP 8! YES ON HARVEY MILK! YES ON SEAN PENN! YES ON VAN SANT! Dustin Lance Black's face says it all.

8:41 YAYYYYY. WINNER: SEAN PENN, MILK. We've never been happier to be wrong. Ugh, sorry Mick. That tiny Chihuahua tuxedo just got 300% sadder.

8:39 We are genuinely in suspense for the first time in three-and-three-quarters hours. CALL IT. NOW. WHO? UGGGGGGH WHOOOOOO. We say Mickey. There. It's locked in, Regis.

8:32 This is Kate's moment. In the coming days, this speech will be dissected and overanalyzed, but after one listen, we're going to give her high marks for keeping it together, seemingly genuinely humbled, and not making it all about herself. And only two bad jokes—the "well, it's not a shampoo bottle, now!" crack (and actually, it is—go ahead, unscrew Oscar's head, Kate. Garnier Fructis) and the Meryl Streep "suck it up, Meryl—you know it's true" goddess line. In fact, can we retire the word "goddess" from award ceremonies forever? We'll literally take anything else. "Lunchlady." That works. "Look at you all—I just can't believe I'm the company of five lunchladies like yourselves. I'm not worthy." Yeah, that works.

8:28 Winner: BEST ACTRESS, KATE WINSLET. As the audience leaps to their feet, Angelina Jolie orders an unconscious Brad Pitt to "stand up."

HarveyScoreBoardWatch: 2 for 7.

8:23 The ActorTron 2000 spits out five more amazingly well-preserved Academy Award winners. Marion Cotillard decides to forgo the prepared statements about Kate Winslet, instead choosing to express her awe with her contemporary's gifts by luring a young goat onto the stage by rope, slitting its throat, and letting its sacrificial blood drench the intimately placed front row.

8:19 Jerri Blank says: "I got something to say. I've got something to say. BEST DIRECTOR, DANNY BOYLE, SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE." David Fincher punches a seat-filler in the chest out of excitement for his lauded peer. Boyle's boyish enthusiasm is infectious, even when he spaced on crediting his choreographer. Oops!

8:16 Apparently Reese Witherspoon was mugged by Jerri Blank backstage, who then slipped into her gown and trotted out to announce the Best Director nominees.

8:09 The In Memoriam segment finally enters the HD era. We begin with Cyd Charisse—begin scoring your 'In Memoriam' Oscar Montage Pool accordingly. The Grieve-O-Meter seems to be functioning, with the needle flipping right towards the end with Sydney Pollack, Paul Newman. WHERE'S HEATH? He was squeezed in last year, but is there some Academy law about not double-dipping? He died in January 22, 2008. Also—no George Carlin. And Charlton Heston barely registered with the audience.

But wait—no George Carlin?! That's an outrage! Oscar controversy!!!

8:04 Can we just say the Japanese directors are totally stealing the show? Even if they don't quote Styx. In the evening's first upset (sort of—we're trying to keep this interesting), BEST FOREIGN FILM goes to DEPARTURES, not Waltz with Bashir.

8:02 Hugh Jackman reappears after a one-hour break. (Apparently he refused to leave his dressing room when he was informed by producers he couldn't be incorporated into the "Jai-Ho" choreographed narrative.)

7:55 John Legend performs Peter Gabriel's "Down to Earth" (Gabriel refused to perform an excerpt), and the Academy Bolly-Hop Dancers come out for some fierce backup on Rahman's "Jai-Ho," his second win for BEST SONG. Rahman is totally this year's Three 6 Mafia. Let's hope he doesn't spend the rest of the night dry-humping Paris Hilton at Prince's after-after-party.

7:49 An insomnia-curing medley of best scores results in WINNER, SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE's A.R. Rahman bringing down the house with a prepared bit about his wife, followed by a slow burn that would make Jack Benny envious. Just kidding—that was really awkward. Rahman redeems himself by throwing off his Nehru jacket, displaying a surprisingly ripped physique, and launching into song.

7:39 Eddie Murphy mends fences with the Academy long enough to speed-read through his presentation of the Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award to Jerry Lewis. Jerry offers his breathless thanks, and manages to leave without turning to a band member on the stage to ask him how his "faygeleh son is doing in nursing school."

7:32 WINNER: BEST EDITING, SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE, bringing its total to three. We hope that's the last we'll see of Will, but there's always the chance he might show up in an ad for Jimmy Kimmel Live!.

7:20 An well-Jheri curled Will Smith appears to present the technical awards. WINNERS: ACHIEVEMENT IN VISUAL EFFECTS, BENJAMIN BUTTON. SOUND EDITING, THE DARK KNIGHT. SOUND MIXING, SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE.

7:12 WINNER: BEST DOCUMENTARY, MAN ON WIRE. Tightrope-walker extraordinaire Philippe Petit genuinely thrills the audience by balancing his overturned Oscar on his chin—a feat he'll later recreate at the Governor's Ball using Jeffrey Katzenberg.

7:09 Werner Herzog prevents the Documentary Yearbook from getting too maudlin, ending a trenchant observation about the power of non-fiction films to change the world by holding two thumbs up and shouting, "And check out Bad Lieutenant when it comes out—if you love action, it's gonna blow your mind!"

7:08 WINNER: BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR, HEATH LEDGER, THE DARK KNIGHT. Phew.

7:07 The reverent speeches for Best Supporting Actor take an uncomfortable turn when Cuba Gooding Jr., currently finishing up on the straight-to-Flopz original Boat Trip 2: Wedding Belles, can't help but mask his frustration over the more successful dude playing the dudes disguised as the other dudes that he'd rather be playing. Yes, we're drunk.

6:53 Wow. Baz Luhrmann just mounted the worst Oscar number since this disaster. It was like something you'd see on a cruise ship hosting the AVN Awards.

6:46 Ah, the Judd Apatow sequence: The Oscars go pot-humor for the very first time—to spectacular effect, climaxing in Janusz Kaminski climbing between Seth Rogen and James Franco for a round of Oscar-assisted couch-skiing. Filthy.

6:35 Winner: ANTHONY DOD MANTLE, BEST CINEMATOGRAPHY, SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE. Someone just pointed out that Danny Boyle is like a muppet Morrissey on anti-depressants. We couldn't agree more.

6:34 For some reason they're allowing Natalie Portman to present with her ex-boyfriend, Devendra Bernhardt.

6:32 I've just been informed that the term "montage" has been banished to the far reaches of the dusty Oscar netherverse, replaced instead by "yearbook." Which is apparently a far more encompassing term that allows Disney/Summit/Universal to shove their product right into the broadcast!

6:25 Robert Pattinson and Amanda Seyfried share a rare stage chemistry we'd define as...umm....non-existent. Yes! That's it exactly. Also: His hair grows supernaturally fast. Our bubbe once warned us about people like that. She said they're vampires.

Here's a look at the crowd during Andrew Stanton's acceptance speech. How many people can you count: 1) sleeping, 2) fantasizing about suicide, 3) contemplating life in a beanie?

6:17 We need to play quick catchup: LA MAISON EN PETITS CUBES, BEST ANIMATED SHORT. Director Kunio Kato quotes Styx, making him a man after our own heart. ACHIEVEMENT IN ART DIRECTION, BENJAMIN BUTTON. ACHIEVEMENT IN COSTUME DESIGN, THE DUCHESS. ACHIEVEMENT IN MAKEUP, BENJAMIN BUTTON.

6:05 Can we just say how satisfying it is to see Space Chimps represented in that animation montage, set to music apparently composed by a 13-year-old boy from Okinawa.

6:04 JenniferLina CatfightWatch: Jennifer Aniston moves from stage right to center stage—withing queef distance of Angelina Jolie. WINNER: WALL-E, BEST ANIMATED PICTURE.. Aniston is quickly whisked off the stage by a stagehand who looks suspiciously like the one who worked on The Jerry Springer Show.

6:00 WINNER: SIMON BEAUFOY, BEST ADAPTED SCREENPLAY, SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE.
HarveyScoreBoardWatch: 1 for 2.

5:57 WINNER: DUSTIN LANCE BLACK, BEST ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY, MILK. Omigod, this is definitely the first person who goes to our gym to ever win an Oscar. We've totally used the pec dec after him! Beautiful speech about equal marriage rights, which is something we strongly back—what with us being gay and lonely.

5:54 Things turn up with the appearance of Liz Lemon and Gavin Volure, both of whom seem to be adjusting well to yet another away-toilet situation. An extremely cool effect is employed to show middle-America how words turn into movies.

5:48 First winner! PENELOPE CRUZ, BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS, VICKY CRISTINA BARCELONA. She's been given 45 seconds, presumably because it took 23 minutes to read the nominees. A man just yelled out to interrupt her!

HarveyScoreBoardWatch: 1 for 1.

5:45 Five former Best Supporting Actress winners are beamed down via magic LCD screen, and each introduces one nominee. For quite some time. Are they going to do this for every category? Yup, they sure are going into detail. This kind of feels like the rehearsal dinner in Rachel Getting Married.

5:39 This just texted in from STV VanAirsdale via Defamer SMS satellite feed: "OK that was fucking awesome." That's what three extra drinking hours get you.

5:38 What did a Holocaust drama have to do with the Dutch Olympic luge team?

5:35 Hugh has now mentioned Craigslist and pubic hair in the space of two stanzas. We're glad he's sticking to his comfort zone.

5:32 Jackman is disappointingly dressed, and sober. Here comes the first number! It's ghetto—but jokily so. That doesn't make it any less uncomfortable.

5:30 AAAAAAGGGGGGH SWAROVSKIIIII. WE'RE BLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIND.

5:27 An old-timey newsreel explains exactly what production designer David Rockwell was trying to do with the set, just in case the sight of a full band on the stage sends you into fits of confused convulsions, leading you to throw a small child or glass ashtray into your flatscreen TV.

5:21 Jack Black's wife seemed utterly enchanted by the stranger with the microphone, didn't she? Cagle then asks Seth Rogen, Leslie Mann, and Judd Apatow who they'd save if there was a massive earthquake that killed everyone during the broadcast. That's a festive stumper! The fun's already started.

5:13 Viola Davis just fulfilled her Whole Foods Stress Tabs shout-out duties. Unfortunately, she was supposed to mention Airborne. No million bucks for you! (But free salad bar for life.)

5:11 Wow, Jess—way to shit the bed on the Robert Downey Jr. interview. Yes, that's his date. Otherwise known as his wife, Deborah Falconer Susan Levin. Don't you run a magazine with Entertainment in the name or something? (Don't look at us, we don't work anywhere.)

5:10 Mickey Rourke had a tuxedo made for Loki. That is just about the saddest thing we've heard all day. (Okay, second-saddest.) Wait—wasn't Loki a girl? Enh, Celine got away with it. Wait—no she didn't.

5:09 Surprise Alert! In place of Oscar statuettes, all winners in acting categories will be given an adorable, poop-dipped Slumdog Millionaire orphan.

5:05 Tim Gunn drapes Brangelina in yards of shameless sycophancy.

5:04 We don't know how ABC managed to score Jess Cagle for red-carpet duty, but all we can say is—we're dazzled. The surprises have begun already!

5:02 You know, without being shown who's speaking, Robin Roberts could be Mr. Jay's voice double.

As a result, Defamer is being absorbed into the company's power-crazed flagship title. Defamer posts will now appear under http://defamer.com/, while simultaneously feeding into the Gawker homepage.

Gawker's managing editor Gabriel Snyder, a former West Coaster who covered Hollywood for Variety and W, will oversee the transition. As for your trusty Defamer team, we've opted to explore new horizons. Stv, Kyle, the McCluskey Twins, and myself will be here through the remainder of the week. Watch this space for exciting announcements on what's to come.

Questions? Observations? Muffled sobs? Leave them in the comments. Media inquiries: Ask Mr. Denton directly. (Read his take here.) Gawker is hiring someone to cover Hollywood gossip. Applications, and all other matters, to Gabriel.

We now encourage you to get your Oscar drinking on early, in anticipation of our liveblog at 8 p.m. EST / 5 p.m. PST. It seemed a timely and fittingly spectacular way to go out—by plunging the illustrious trophy into my gut head-first, in one final, savage act of Hollywood harakiri.

- Seth

From a CNN interview:

CNN: How daring is it going to be? Will there be YouTube moments where people will be talking about the Oscars this year after it happens?

Jackman: One of my favorite moments at the Oscars was when the streaker came across David Niven. And we're upping it a level and we're just going to do most of the show naked. Um, well, there hopefully will be YouTube moments.

CNN: "The sexiest man alive" [is] going to be up there nude?

Jackman: Drunk and nude, yes. So that's our new fresh approach. It's the Australian way.

Another secret: The typical bathroom-break category Best Animated Short will be the breathtaking showstopper of the evening, when Jackman introduces each nominee employing his hidden skills as a masterly puppeteer of the penis. And yes, it will be projected on a giant LCD screen.

• Hugh Jackman ready to be 'drunk and nude' at the Oscars [CNN]

Today, we bring you Milkyrie—described by its makers as "Milk meets Valkyrie. Deal with it." Yes, they've gone and done it: With the help of an all-the-rage time-travel plot device, they've transposed late-70s Castro with late-WW2 Berlin, and let the two film's various heroes, anti-heroes, ruthless dictators, and tenaciously gayfro'd campaign managers mingle in a Milk-Nazi smoothie. Does it make sense? No. Did we laugh? Yes. Particularly when Cleve Jones assured Col. von Stauffenberg, "I don't do...losing."

Via Empire, we bring you three one-sheets from the Basterds marketing campaign, which has rejected the obvious tagline of "Nein Nein Nein Nein!" if favor of the less Hitler-tantrumy, "Once upon a time in Nazi occupied France." (The grammar Nazis in us would point out that there should be a hyphen in there, but we're happy with our scalps where they are.) We love a good fairytale!

• Exclusive: Inglourious Basterds Posters [Empire]

TMZ paparazzi captured The Wrestler star emerging from his West Village lodgings, then followed him to a tanning salon/Brazilian waxing/staple-removal studio for a beautification regimen not unlike the one his character Randy "The Ram" undergoes in the film. He emerges a little later to the applause of appreciative fans wishing him best of luck, offering yet further echoes of The Wrestler, and we thought the moment could really benefit from the melancholic Americana of Bruce Springsteen's title song. Thanks to Gawker's Mike Byhoff, our dream became a reality. Enjoy.

• Mickey Grieves Dead Dogs, Tans His Hide [TMZ]

The last we left the sprawling space opera that is SAG Wars, rebel leader Doug Allen had been overthrown by his own men, replaced by senior adviser John McGuire as chief negotiator. Saddest SAG Prez in the Universe Alan Rosenberg then mounted an unsuccessful legal bid to prevent the moderate mutineers from resuming talks with the evil producing overlords of the AMPTP. Over Justine Bateman's tweeted objections, new talks were set for this week. They were supposed to settle everything.

They settled nothing.

[T]he majors and the Screen Actors Guild broke off three days of talks late Thursday with the congloms issuing a take-it-or-leave-it "last, best and final" offer.

The talks fell apart over SAG's insistence that a new feature-primetime deal had to expire on June 30, 2011 - meaning that the deal would last only two years and three months.

For its part, the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers insisted that the new deal has to last a full three years. And the congloms also announced their new offer could be withdrawn in 60 days.

The deal fell apart over a matter of nine months, or the difference between beginning the contract when the last one expired (what the actors want), or starting it from right now (what the producers want). SAG's concern is that the new expiration date will put them too far away from the expiration of the new WGA and DGA contracts in 2012, which could weaken them strategically come time to negotiate again. The producers wouldn't budge, but offered to begin negotiations for their next contract (ooh fun! More negotiations!) early enough to get them back in sync with the other unions. SAG has two months to accept the offer, which seems to us a ridiculous long window, during which continued internecine fighting could reduce their membership to a bloody pile of random limbs. Perhaps that's the idea.

As always, the winner here is AFTRA, who are dominating 50 of the 70-plus broadcast pilots ordered this season—a shift that pushes the industry further into the realm of digital production. (AFTRA contracts specify actors cannot perform on film.) Warm up the Thesbot. The end is nigh.

• SAG talks break down [Variety]
• Smaller actors union takes center stage for pilots [THR]

· Can't wait for Watchmen to glimpse some computer-generated wang? Then get a load of GTA4: Lost And Damned Mr. Stubbs. [via 1Up]
· If you meant to see Fireproof, Kirk Cameron's $33.5 million-earning firemen-and-faith movie, but never got around to it, here's some highlights, beginning with an uplifting scene in which Kirk finally tells off his nag of a wife.
· People talked to most adorable Top Chef contestant of all time Fabio Viviani, who was [SPOILER ALERT!] eliminated on last night's episode. They do an admirable job of preserving his broken English. Sniff. We love you, Fabio.
· J.D. Fortune, winner of Rock Star: INXS, toured with the band for 23 months, then was unceremoniously fired at a Hong Kong airport. He's now living in a car, which if you aren't aware, is one step away from homeless.
· The Oscars secret is out, and it's three little words that will blow your minds: Hugh. Jackman. Blingees.
· American Idol's soulful griever Danny Gokey beat out Tatiana, the most loathed Idol contestant in history, to advance to the top 12. But watch out Gokey: Adam Lambert is coming, and Cher's "Believe" isn't the only trick up his sleeve.

· Folk legend Joan Baez plays Royce Hall.
· Spring Awakening composer Duncan Sheik plays The Echoplex, with Lauren Pritchard, who played Ilse in the Broadway production.

From as best as we can make out, Rodman loses it in the middle of a challenge (perhaps mounting a charity auction for Baron von Trump's wealthy nursery classmates?), towering over team-leader Black and bellowing, "Fuck this bullshit! You think you did fucking right, bro? Aw, fuck you, man. Fuck you!" as a small puddle gathers circumference beneath the country singer's feet. Rodman then stomps out of the room, a gesture of defiance sure to displease the toddler Trump at that evening's board room, who'll toss an apple juice drinkin' box at the recalcitrant contestant's head in disgust. [YouTube]

The last time we saw flirtation this shameless, Kevin Spacey was making his waiter repeat the specials on his lap. Watch as the blushing country singer fiddles with the host's tie, giggles uncontrollably at his every witticism, and marvels at how effortlessly he finishes her sentences. Ferguson—a married man—only encourages her with his seductive brogue and shameless innuendo. Jimmy Fallon, we'd love to tell you this is how it's done, but unless you want a hasty d-i-v-o-r-c-e, we'd throw some cold water on Van Morrison before things get out of hand.

Bonus flirtation:


[Late Late Show]

The rest of the week has some more dependably upbeat bets, including Fallon's former Weekend Update co-anchor Tina Fey and Fever Pitch co-star and producer-in-law, Drew Barrymore. Barrymore is something of a Late Night early-guest good luck charm, having appeared on Conan's very first episode, and that got us thinking about some other legendary First Guests.

The image associated with this post is best viewed using a browser.Bill Murray on Late Night with David Letterman, 1982. Perhaps the greatest First Guest of all time, Murray kicked off both of Dave Letterman's longtime late night ventures. On the very first Late Night, accompanied by a musical ode to his SNL lounge singer, a mostly incoherent and playfully argumentative Murray suggests the host looks "sedated," before the two segue into a gripping conversation about playing with lint, a longer diatribe about Dave selling out (we think?), and ending on a pledge to make Letterman's life a living hell. Score: 2 1/2 Joaquins out of a possible five, and lots of fun!

Billy Crystal on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno, 1992. An unbelievably prescient Crystal opens with, "I saw Ed McMahon on the corner with a sign that says, 'Will announce for food.'"

The image associated with this post is best viewed using a browser.Bill Murray on Late Show with David Letterman, 1993. Letterman then invited Murray back to kick off things at his new home on CBS. Murray's shtick is a lot more thought out this time around—he arrives jogging and breathless, explaining "I went to the other place." We then cut to some video of Murray in a hardhat among the crew of construction guys who refurbished the Ed Sullivan Theater. His big finish, which isn't in the video, involved spraypainting Dave's name on his brand new desk. Somehow, it came off as funny, not just pointless and mean-spirited, like the Kevin Spacey Jamba Juice-dumping fiasco.

The image associated with this post is best viewed using a browser.Goldie Hawn on The Chevy Chase Show, 1993. Widely considered to be one of the most disastrous late show guest appearances—much less First Guest appearances—of all time was when Goldie Hawn kicked things off on The Chevy Chase Show. In rolled-up Daisy Dukes, she talks for what like seems an eternity on the magic of child-rearing, then presents her son with a birthday cake and everyone sings "Happy Birthday to You." Chevy drops the cake, they dance to "La Bamba," a stage manager brings out the real birthday cake, the show cuts to commercial, and you watch in horrified amazement.

The image associated with this post is best viewed using a browser.Will Ferrell on The Megan Mullally Show, 2006. Want to know how we know Will Ferrell is a good guy? He'll agree to be the first guest on your new talk show, even though it's on in the afternoon, and you're Megan Mullally. You want to know how we know he's a great guy? He does it in American Apparel briefs, and brings a dozen long-stemmed roses. And a taped X keeping his mic on his chest. Couldn't save the show, but it's the thought that counts.

• De Niro, Morrison first guests for Fallon's show [Yahoo]

But few know that Hollywood's greatest pre-Rahm Washington liaison was once pinkballed by J. Edgar Hoover's FBI. In 1964, Valenti was the Don Draper of the Houston advertising world, whereupon he won an appointment as a top aide to President Lyndon B. Johnson. There were whispers, though, that he had been engaged in suspiciously non-hetero activities; to wit, pulling a Franco in the White House pool. The Washington Post reports:

[I]n October 1964, a man whose name has been redacted from the records called an FBI official in New York. The caller encouraged the FBI to investigate Valenti "as a sex pervert," files show. "He based this request on the fact that he had read in the newspapers that Valenti swims in the nude in the White House pool."

A month later, the bureau found out that the Republican Party had hired a retired FBI agent to look into rumors that Valenti was attracted to men. The agents then focused on Valenti's relationship with the photographer, whose connections with Valenti had enabled him to photograph Johnson two years earlier, the memo said.

Six days later, Hoover reported the allegations to the president. Johnson spoke to Hoover lieutenant Cartha D. DeLoach and asserted that "Valenti was all right; however, his judgment was faulty inasmuch as he felt Jenkins had been all right," files show. DeLoach advised Johnson to have Valenti submit a sworn affidavit regarding his association with "this homosexual." Johnson demurred, saying Valenti had no need to defend himself.

"The President indicated that if I were to ask him if 'Lady Bird' were virtuous he would feel it would be unnecessary to reply, inasmuch as he knew 'Lady Bird' was virtuous," DeLoach wrote in a note."

Valenti was already one of Johnson's most trusted confidantes, standing just feet away as he took the oath of office aboard Air Force One after John F. Kennedy's assassination. LBJ may have used a Lady Bird trust analogy to protect his friend, but we suspect he really didn't care much one way or another. In those tumultuous days there was far more important business to attend to, and what a guy did naked in the White House pool with his longtime photographer companion was really nobody's business but his own.

• Valenti's Sexuality Was Topic For FBI [WashPo]

· The Egyptian screens its collection of Academy Award winners, starting tonight with Ken Russell's 1969 adaptation of D.H. Lawrence's Women in Love.
· The Phaaaaan. TomoftheOpera is heeeeere...inside the Pantages. DuhDuhDuhDuhDuhhhh!!!

Regardless of what you think of Silk Spectre's seemingly Xanax-dulled dialogue in this scene, few would deny that before Hayter came along to shepherd it to greatness, the script was "one of the most unintelligible pieces of shit they had read in years." So listen, now, as the passionate fanboy Bard describes Fox as an "ethically challenged...rough group of people" —the Devil's minions, who easily possessed the power to lock the finished product away forever in Rupert Murdoch's Forbidden Goodies Vault, where the cryogenically frozen body of Darva Conger is tended by hunchbacked Fox paraphysicist David Faustino.

• WATCHMAN WRITER SLAMS FOX AS SATAN [hollywoodoutbreak.com]

They're a quartet of rapping Hollywood assistants (or aspiring actors playing Hollywood assistants) who are probably referring to Lloyd from Entourage when they tell you "shorty gonna be a thug," and define street cred by how quickly you can get Ellen Page's lesbian publicist on the phone without checking Outlook. And while we would have posted this anyway, they did an especially nice job of assistanty ass-kissing by including references to going "back to the Death Star," and actually namechecking Defamer at the 3:29 mark (accompanied by a very convincing-looking mock-up post). Nice, fellas! You'll go far in this town. Hit us up if your boss gets shitcanned, and you don't mind having entire plastic takeout containers of salad thrown in your face when you fail to remind the Daily Grill to leave the capers out of our Nicoise.

• Hollywood ASST [Vimeo]
• Backoftheclass.net

The talk radio home to Adam Carolla, Tom Leykis and Sam Phillips—who announced the news in a Facebook status update—is owned by CBS, who, says Franklin Avenue, want to flip it to a top 40 format to compete with Clear Channel's KIIS-FM.

Speculation is centering on the youth-oriented AMP Radio format, which already runs on the HD-2 signal for KCBS/93.1 "Jack FM."

According to Radio Insight, someone recently, quietly registered the web domains AmpRadioLA.com, Amp971.com, and Amp971fm.com on February 9.

"AMP Radio" artists include Lady Gaga, T.I., Rihanna, Britney Spears, Katy Perry and Beyonce.

A Howard Stern Show news board is reporting Carolla, who replaced Stern after Stern left for Sirius, has been fired. Friday also happens to be Conan O'Brien's last day on the air. It's as if all these beloved, long-running things are coming to an end this week, isn't it?

• Adam Carolla to Depart; KLSX 97.1 to Flip to Top 40? [franklinavenue.blogspot.com]
• Adam Carolla Fired From CBS Radio [gather]

The network has informed the band that they'll not pay any licensing fees for published music. So forget clever musical guest introductions, like scoring Miley Cyrus's entrance to "Feeling Japanese," or bringing audiences in from commercial with a rousing, Paul Schafferesque take on "Werewolves of London." Rather, the band will have to perform a new, unrecorded composition every single time:

NBC will no longer pay for published music: That means, the only thing that the Roots can play are original songs. "We have to write 200 new songs, which will probably last about a year," he says. "We've written about 55 so far." [...]

The Roots are booked for five years: "I think if Jimmy turns on the charm like he did on Saturday Night Live, I'm almost certain that this show will work. Anything can happen. Knock on wood that this isn't the Chevy Chase Show or [Magic Johnson's] Magic Hour.

Or, heaven forfend, Thicke of the Night. Did anyone else's knees buckle when they heard the number five years, though? Forgetting for a moment the 1000 new compositions the Roots will be forced to produce as Jeff Zucker cracks a whip in their sweatshop composition room; we just don't know if we can take half-a-decade of SNL-era Fallon charm. Didn't the American people just issue an overwhelming mandate for change?

• The Roots' ?uestlove Talks Late Night With Jimmy Fallon [Rolling Stone]

According to a police report obtained by The Smoking Gun, the Iron Man star had a heated exchange with Lori McCommas over the phone, which led to him making threats on her safety:

According to a Whitemarsh Police Department report...the actor warned, "Don't disrespect me by hanging up on me or I'll come over and hurt you." McCommas then "hung up and contacted 911 fearing Howard was serious."

While McCommas was speaking with a police dispatcher, Howard "showed up at the victim's residence and began breaking the door down." McCommas ran to the rear of the house and into the backyard. Howard then "broke the front door down and ran through the screen door in the kitchen. Howard then grabbed the victim's left arm and punched her twice with a closed fist in the left side of the face."

The attack was broken up by Howard's brother, who responded to McCommas's house after he "saw Howard storm out of their house to go to the victim's house." When a Whitemarsh cop responded to the scene, Howard admitted, "I broke the door down and hit my wife." A second officer noted there was "fresh damage to the front door and marks on the victim's face and arm from being struck."

It's an indefensible crime, made no less excusable by Howard's indignant demands to know "how many times dp=o you have to remind them to refill the Wet Ones dispenser before they FINALLY LEARN TO LISTEN?!" as he was led away by Whitemarsh law enforcement in handcuffs.

• Terrence Howard's Fists Of Fury [The Smoking Gun]

Well, hold on to your what-whats, because according to this "What's New with Samwell?" YouTube interview, What What (In the Butt): The Movie could soon fill the urban-comedy hole left in cineplexes between Madea adventures. (Indeed, we think Tyler Perry's What What (in the Butt) makes a far more logical casting scenario than the interviewer's suggestion of Leo DiCaprio.) Of course, lifelong "Butt" fan Johnny Depp—who, as Samwell tells it, loves the song so much co-star Marion Cotillard lured the artist to the set for a command performance—could probably spin the material into further career gold, with Tim Burton's help turning the reluctant bottom into another classic fairytale outsider. Like Edward Scissorhand, except with stuff going up his butt. [YouTube]

From their report:

[T]alks have heated up between upstart Endeavor and venerable William Morris to the point where I'm being told the odds are "70/30" that the two agencies will do a merger deal...I hear Ari Emanuel may run the combined agency as long as Jim Wiatt gets a fancy title and an uber-lucrative contract.

A stumbling economy can make for strange bedfellows, for as recently as six months ago WMA would likely have never even entertained Emanuel's offer of a $300 gas card and unlimited Netflix subscription in exchange for their reality-show-packaging contract clearinghouse. The consolidation of the William Morris mailroom with the Endeavor kitchen supply closet will provide Hollywood with one agent-launching hotbed, producing a baby-gobbling army estimable enough to finally defeat the evil CAA Death Star. Their ability to offer no interruption in their parking validation service will be but the final coup de grâce.

• IT'S FOR REAL: Endeavor And William Morris Talking About Teaming Up [Deadline Hollywood Daily]

Her definition of frugality veered from that of her magazine staff, however, whose advice to keep a well-stocked pantry didn't necessarily benefit from their boss embellishing, "Oh absolutely—I'm always having Mike the helicopter pilot touch down the Air Martha at Scaglio's Market in Katonah so I can pick up their 40 varieties of homemade pasta." Still, she managed to redeem herself in the following crafts segment, as Making Your Own Money Using Parchment Paper and Homemade Green Food Coloring proved to be a rousing success with audience members looking for a financial leg-up as they struggle to make ends meet.

Thanks to Gawker's Danny Groner for the edit. [Martha]

What else can you expect?

· New York architect and Broadway set designer David Rockwell has completely reimagined the Oscar experience as a festive party where literally anything can happen...and will. A curtain made of 92,000-Swarovski-crystals will frame the stage, while the paving of Michelangelo's Piazza del Campidoglio in Rome will be "reincarnated as colorful, shifting patterns of light on the Oscar floor."

· Forget everything you think you know about people sitting in seats looking at people talking on a stage. All that's out the window. Audiences will be grouped in interesting formations around the thrust stage.

· Until now, the Academy Awards have used a mostly static set—with the occasional giant, rotating Oscar producing Salma Hayek from an entryway carved out of its rear end. This year things will be far more dynamic, with "scene and prop changes" unfolding on camera. (The mention of props suggests to us a surprise appearance by Best Actor presenter Carrot Top, who'll bring down the house with a bit involving stirring a glass of 2% with a ballpoint Bic.)

· The orchestra will be brought out from the pit and put on stage like a swing band. Producer Larry Mark refers to this as "the communal party experience"—a concept that will better illustrate itself when Ben Affleck reaches into a tuba to pull out his co-presenter, Abigail Breslin.

· LED screens behind the presenters "will allow light to be used as a visual sensation," adding much-needed urgency and drama to Sid Ganis's annual address by placing him before a 40-foot wall of flames.

· More screens! Lots and lots of them will be used, flying all over the place. For presentation of Best Editing, 19 screens, "each with a different film image will fly dimensionally in space...[suggesting] being in the mind of someone editing." Finally! Someone cares enough to recreate the experience of being inside an Avid bay—on a spectacularly grand and glamorous scale. We cannot wait.

• The Little Gold Man in a New Blue World [NY Times]

Jackson never took his King of Pop title lightly.

A single orange spandex glove covered with orange Swarovski crystals and rectangular mirrored beads goes with anything, and is highly effective at hailing cabs.

These bedazzled athletic socks, worn during 1981's Jacksons Triumph Tour, have extra reinforcement for added "HEE-hee!"-accompanied toe-stand support.

An electric cart with a Peter Pan theme was a fun way for Michael and guest to get around Neverland Ranch. For added amusement, Michael would insist the domestics lie side-by-side on the ground, and jump them Evel Knievel-style with the vehicle. Sometimes he'd clear all of them!

Hood detail.

Jackson's stretch Rolls, with an interior custom-designed to the singer's specifications, is expected to fetch between $140,000 - $160,000.

The limousine is thought to be the only one in the world with a solid gold bidet.

This robotic head was featured in the climax of Moonwalker, when Michael transforms into a robot to defeat the evil Mr. Big, played by Joe Pesci.

The still functioning bust comes apart into several pieces at the push of a button, much like Jackson's actual head.

Jackson owned Edward's Scissorhands from Tim Burton's Edward Scissorhands—a prized prop he'd frequently slip on and attempt to give Bubbles whimsical haircuts with, leading to much monkey bloodshed.

A pop art painting putting many iconic faces in Jackson's trademark glove and aviator sunglasses manages to make Lincoln and E.T. look really, really gay. Somehow, Einstein just winds up looking extraordinarily fierce—yet another sign of the man's genius.

Check out the rest of the gallery at The Guardian.

• It's the sale of the century [Guardian]

· We defy you to read the story of lost little Oscar No. 3453—the WALL·E of accidentally misrouted kudoware—and not get a little choked up.
· Little Gold Men imagines a Oscars red carpet with no stars. It's so very sad.
· But not as sad as The Saddest Male Models In The World, Part II!
· Jessica Simpson is exploring her fashion options lately. Muumuus, skorts, Snuggies™—anything's fair game.
· Wow. Lindsay at Videogum is the best 30 Rock Easter Egg hunter we know. Check out those Golden Arches. Amazing.
· Michael Jackson may have contracted a severe staph infection. Cobra retreat. RETREAT!
· We honestly had no idea John Wayne Gacy had a Flickr stream. He's been keeping so busy! (Bonus nightmare fuel: video.)
· Meet the newest The Bachelor, ladies. He's a single dad, and he's totally adorable.

· Valentine's Day brings two colorful French romances—The Umbrellas of Cherbourg and Amelie—to the New Beverly. As Pepe le Pew would say, "I shoot you with the ack-ack of love."
· Last week you heard what Edward Albee had to say. Now see his most famous play, Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf, at NoHo Arts Center. One big twist: the Blue Zone Theatre production utilizes three actors who are physically disabled.

Saturday
· Danish punk-rockabilly-ska outfit HorrorPops play Avalon.
· The L.A. Times Travel & Adventure Show takes over the Los Angeles Convention Center, with 550 exhibitors "from Louisiana to Greece and from Africa to Alaska."
· Fellini's Amarcord screens at the Nuart.

Sunday
· Who will be the bull of the ball? You'll just have to go to The Bulldog Beauty Contest at Long Beach's Marine Stadium to find out!
· The Music Tapes w/ Nana Grizol and Brian Dewan bring some lo-fi fun to the Echoplex.
· The Harlem Globetrotters' "Spinning the Globe" World tour lands at the Staples Center, where it looks like they'll be playing the Washington Generals. Anyone's game!

There are, of course, certain restrictions buried in the fine print: The product has to be held up for five seconds, you can't make disparaging remarks about it afterwards, the money is paid out over ten years, and—most alarmingly—the prize is earmarked for a charity of the winner's choice. (And Mickey Rourke's $137,000 bookie debt is not among the recognized charitable institutions.)

That said, what do you have to lose Mickey? A million bucks could buy the Human Society a state-of-the-art lapdog recreational facility. (You just know it's Meryl who's gonna scoop up the prize in the end, though, foxily slipping the endorsement inside one of her trademarked semi-coherent jaunts down memory lane.)

The full ad.

Only yesterday, a director for the project—music video director Samuel Bayer—was announced. Now Andrew Form, who with Michael Bay makes up one-third of the Elm Street producing team, has gone to online celebrity-bikini-photo-repository JustJared with the exclusive:

"We were lucky to receive a call from Jason Weinberg, Lindsay's manager. He called us to tell us that Lindsay was very interested in the film and wanted to be a part of it. We called Jason back after Wesley Strick finished the script and asked if Lindsay wanted to look at the first draft. She looked it over and loved it. She thought this was the perfect vehicle for her. Michael, Bradley and I couldn't imagine having a better actress for the part and without an audition we cast her," Andrew adds.

Based on what we saw of Lohan's last contribution to the horror genre, I Know Who Killed Me, we're wondering what faults in the Elm Street script might have been so egregious as to prevent her involvement entirely. Casting her as the mother? Or Freddie's new love interest, Freida Krueger? We can't really conjure up a scenario in which she would have said no.

Now, onto Phase 2 of the Elm Street casting campaign, in which Bay publishes an angry blog post saying Form "should have never opened his big mouth, and there's no way in hell I'm working with that dehydrated mess. I mean come on. Megan Fox is so much hotter, and I know for a fact she's available. I've embedded her screen test. Check it out! Is that hot or what?"

UPDATE — 2:49 p.m.: Following a well-placed refutation from Form's producing partner Brad Fuller, JustJared has amended its story to say Lohan will not in fact star in Nightmare.

• Lindsay Lohan Joins ‘A Nightmare On Elm Street' [JustJared]

Approached at last night's NAACP awards, showrunner-despot Shonda Rhimes shot down the recent allegations made by James Pickens that both actors would soon appear in an episode entitled A Farewell To Izzy and George, in which the beloved characters would be graphically and permanently disposed of via a series of fatal electrocutions, freak drowning deaths, and at least one grisly caribou-goring.

From People:

"That was a very interesting rumor," Rhimes said Thursday night at the 40th NAACP Image Awards in Los Angeles. "And it's not true."

"That was absolutely taken out of context," said Rhimes. "Things happen, and … I think rumors become fact very easily. And you know I don't like to tell you what's going to happen on the show - but that is a rumor," she emphasized.

For his part, Pickens says he meant to wish the pair well in general.

"We've been living with these rumors for a long time," he said before the NAACP's awards show. "When the question was posed to me, I was more trying to congratulate Katie and T.R. on whatever they were going to do. But yeah, I don't have any special info about it either way."

Hmm. Yes. We see. Just so long as we're getting straight answers out of you all. Did you check out McSteamy on Ellen? His pupils were spiraling. It's enough to make you wonder if there's some kind of McDreamy Candidate plot at play, a vast ABC network conspiracy that will reveal itself to an audience of millions when Patrick Dempsey takes the Oscar podium, sees the trigger words "STAR OF THE QUEEN, DAME HELEN MIRREN" on the teleprompter, and proceeds to blindly hijack an Oscar cannon and dispose of the troublesome team-members with two strategically placed golden torpedoes.

• T.R. Knight, Katherine Heigl Not Leaving Grey's Anatomy [People]