While no studio or production company affiliations have yet been announced, Diddy already knows what actress he wants: Sienna Miller or Angelina Jolie. Both are beautiful, captivating and emotive women. Oh, did we mention this is a comedy? Not to fear, though, since Diddy plans to land Eddie Murphy as his star. A cinch!

Before he gets too far, someone better tell Diddy that he can’t “sample” screenplays, or Murphy might find himself talking about pork belly futures and women from Queens all over again.

• Combs Turns Screenwriter [WWTI]

The actress's radical theory posits that mistreatment of Tibet and her "good friend" the Dalai Lama might have upset the Earth's crust just enough to topple schools, threaten nearly a million people with flooding and yield two recent aftershocks wiping out another 420,000 homes. Who knew? Stone acknowledges her "big lesson" in the end, however, promising to put her "head down and be of service even to people who aren't nice to you." OK — but just this once, Sharon. And be careful! Word on the street is that those tent-city refugees are looking for payback, and how.

• Sharon Stone Blames China's Treatment Of Tibet For Earthquake [Breitbart via Radar Online]

Nolte is essentially trapped in an office with his own thoughts, often mumbling along in stream-of-consciousness soliloquies.

At times, No Exit can play like a combination of an intervention meeting and a great episode of Behind the Music. Like private investigator Anthony Pellicano's discussing his crimes while serving as his own attorney, Nolte sometimes talks of himself in the third person.

In discussing his 2002 arrest for driving under the influence, Nolte steers his remarks about that highly public transgression toward his less well-known 1961 case for selling fake draft cards. "It seems like a much bigger criminal action than that silly, goofy guy that was picked up not long — about two or three years ago — which has now been voted the best celebrity mug shot. Are you proud of that? Do you want to talk to me or some celebrity that you are chasing?"

It may not be the comic treasure of Woody Allen cross-examining himself in Bananas, but for pure, rambling conversations with oneself, Nolte is a tough act to beat. Moreover, the potential influence of his breakthrough has James Lipton hoarding blue cards and Inside the Actors Studio clips for an hour-long interview with himself while Barbara Walters plots her own tell-all expose for Oscar night '09. Meanwhile, in New York, an angry Jon Stewart is claiming Nolte stole his own well-established All Me™ interview format from The Daily Show. We hear a winner-take-all self-Q&A is in the works for the months ahead.

• Nick Nolte documentary: The actor talks about the actor [LAT]

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The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford star Brad Pitt continues to be amazed by his life partner Angelina Jolie's ever expanding belly. Pitt knew what to expect with pregnancy, but as he put it, "Angie just keeps on growing as if she's been eating her weight in Godfather's Pizza with Chunk." Additionally, Jolie's growing collection of maternity clothing has provided a small windfall for Pitt and his children. Pitt said, "Yeah, the boys and I tie some of her old dresses to big wheels and it feels like we're dragging race. It's pretty sweet. We might go parachuting with the thing she's wearing tonight in a couple of days. Maddox might get some sweet air time with it."

[Photo Credit: Splash Pics]

"Clint Eastwood made two films about Iwo Jima that ran for more than four hours total and there was not one Negro actor on the screen," Lee told reporters. "If you reporters had any balls you'd ask him why. There's no way I know why he did that — that was his vision, not mine. But I know it was pointed out to him and that he could have changed it. It's not like he didn't know."

Incidentally, when Eastwood was asked about Lee's comments during Tuesday's Exchangeling press conference, the Cannes moderator reportedly rebuffed the inquiry. But! We digress! Lee also squeezed in a Coen brothers smackdown ("Look, I love the Coen brothers; we all studied at NYU. But they treat life like a joke. Ha ha ha. A joke. It's like, 'Look how they killed that guy! Look how blood squirts out the side of his head!' I see things different than that.") and announced a new documentary about Michael Jordan he's planning to unveil at next year's festival.

Elsewhere, we finally found someone who doesn't like Eastwood's latest, and the Croisette cascades with hype as Steven Soderbergh's two-part, four-and-a-half-hour Che prepares to unspool in its entirety. "From a press and industry perspective, people are definitely talking about the film," writes Karina Longworth, "but everyone seems less interested in what's going to be on screen tonight than in how it'll eventually be seen." All together? Kill Bill-style? Straight-to-video serialization? Buy one, get one free?

Also among the debris:

—Hide the kids! Oscar-fetish grunt and Blurb Whore Hall of Famer Pete Hammond has been hyperventilating over Vicky Cristina Barcelona and co-star Penelope Cruz in particular, and it's all unflinchingly caught on video.

—Sadistic Variety blogger Mike Jones also videotapes a succession of fest attendees mispronouncing the title of Charlie Kaufman's Synecdoche, New York. (Don't be fooled — that's a hard "K" at the end of "York.")

—The brilliant if frustrating Argentinian director Lucretia Martel showed off her new film La Mujer sin Cabeza (The Woman Without a Head) on Tuesday; she was rewarded promptly with mystified reviews and the helm of a big-budget film about "alien invaders and their army of giant insects." Like Indiana Jones 4, kind of, but with even less story.

[Photo Credit: Getty Images]

My source says all of Scarlett's Cannes requests/needs had been agreed on by April 27 — hair, makeup, security, hotel — and she was good to go. She'd done all the press for her new album — Anywhere I Lay My Head — and was on the final fitting for her Cannes premiere dress designed by Dolce & Gabanna.

Then she announced her engagement to actor Ryan Reynolds on May 5. On May 6, she attended the Costume Institute Gala at the Met wearing Dolce & Gabbana and a diamond engagement ring.

Suddenly, everything changed. "Within 24 hours of the announcement of her engagement, the studio renigged [sic] on the agreed-on terms for Scarlett's appearance at Cannes. It was insane. She was backed up against a wall. Finally, she personally made the decision not to go."

I just had to ask. Is it possible that Woody Allen was annoyed over his muse's sudden engagement?

"Yes," said my source, who pointed out what she says are inaccuracies in the Daily Mail story. [...]

The Weinstein Company has released an official party line to defend Scarlett's honor: "These reports circling about Scarlett are simply untrue and unfair. Both she and Javier were unable to attend Cannes because of various scheduling conflicts. We look forward to working with them when the film is released in late summer."

So there you have it: Johansson was never the avaricious villainess painted by the report; rather, it was her mentor/father figure/source-of -unsettling- smacking-sounds Allen who was to blame, possessed by the green-eyed demon upon learning he'd lose his cherished muse to a no-talent, prettyboy B-actor from Canada of all God-forsaken places. Ultimately, he lashed out the only way he knew how: by refusing to sign off on a $4000-per-day makeup artist, which as everyone knows is director shorthand for, "Congratulations. I hope you both rot in happiness."

• Is Scarlett Johansson a demanding diva? You decide! [LAT]

But still: Indy takes the day as usual, with Salon's Andrew O' Hehir nicely setting the table for the endless courses to follow:

Part of me thinks that some flea-bitten Parisian radicals should come and close this shit down right now. And part of me thinks: You know what? Cannes needs Indy. We've had five days here of earnest and serious filmmaking, ranging from mediocre to outstanding, but nothing that feels like a movie that will rock the world. ... But if you want to know whether Ford, Spielberg and Lucas can recapture their mojo almost 20 years after Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, the only answers I can provide are frustrating ones, like kind of and maybe and it depends what you mean.

Such qualifications are everywhere this morning as reviews surge forth, but Harrison Ford and company couldn't seem to care less. "It is not unusual for something that is popular to be disdained by some people," Ford said at Sunday's press conference. "I work for the people who pay to get in — they are my customers. My focus is on providing the best experience I can." We have our own (spoiler-rific) ideas about the results, but even the worst lambasting wouldn't prevent Ford's "experience" from raking in upwards of $140 million over the five-day Memorial Day frame.

Meanwhile, down the block, Harvey Weinstein announced a $60 million adaptation of the novel The Alchemist, to be directed and produced by its leading man Laurence Fishburne. The Hollywood Reporter quotes Harvey as saying: "The book means so much to people on a spiritual level. ... I think there is a bridge to the Middle East in this story." Finally — world peace! From the Weinsteins!

It's no less ambitious than restoring Woody Allen's name, we suppose, which the Weinsteins may have done as well with his much-appreciated Cannes premiere Vicky Cristina Barcelona. (The film even has Timecritic Richard Corliss flirting with relevancy with one of his best reviews in years.) Not to be outdone, Harvey's wife Georgina Chapman is designing its stars' premiere attire. Synergy is a beautiful thing, especially when it comes in the form of a "creme silk gown with embroidered straps" on Penelope Cruz. Alas, Harvey, we have not forgotten about Fraggle Rock. You can't stop what's coming.

[Photo Credit: Getty Images]

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Jack Black acted as a bodyguard to his Kung Fun Panda co-star Angelina Jolie at the Cannes Film Festival. Black warned the press corps to keep their distance from the "any moment now" Jolie and, if they were to get any closer, Black would have to bust out some serious karate moves. He then added that Dustin Hoffman would join in on the karate action, too. Black said, "You're not going to like me when I'm cheesed off, but you're totally going to hate the Hoffeweizen when he's cheesed off."

[Photo Credit: Getty Images]

Paramount, producer George Lucas and director Steven Spielberg have made some changes in their game plan to avoid the Da Vinci scenario. For one thing, they're not having a big party. ...

In contrast, Indy's producers have skedded a "filmmakers party" for 250 people — no press invited. There will be the usual press conference following the screening; the only TV and print junket interviews with the cast are scheduled the day before the screening, instead of afterward; access to Spielberg outside the press conference is strictly interdit.

We didn't want to go to your stupid party anyway; we're too busy joining Pete Hammond in handicapping the Oscar chances of this year's higher-profile fest selections. Actually, we're doing no such thing, and we wish Hammond wouldn't either, but there it is: Jury chair Penn might help shepherd his ex-director Clint Eastwood's Changeling to the Palme d'Or! Che is a front-runner, except it's not finished! Kung Fu Panda is an animated film contender! Only 10 more days of this; thanks for nothing, LA Times.

Elsewhere, Anne Thompson is making the rounds in smoke-filled rooms, and Jeffrey Wells was on the scene at a panel during which David Poland — via Skype! — apparently predicted the end of The Hollywood Reporter within three years. So, you know, don't renew your subscription.

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Before the mescaline kicked in, Brad Pitt did his best "Dr. Gonzo" impression as he raced Angelina Jolie through the streets of Cannes in a desperate attempt to get her to her Today Show interview on time. While driving to the festival, Pitt constantly referred to everyone and everything on the sides of the roads as bats. Jolie quickly corrected him and said that they weren't bats, but French people. Pitt smiled and said, "Babe, you're too much of a freak to live, but too rare to die. Now, watch out for dirty, dirty, dirty hippies!"

[Photo Credit: INF Daily]

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Natalie Portman attempted to put on a brave face as a mysterious hand hung over her shoulder doing a photo call at the year's Cannes Film Festival. Portman said that it could've been worse; after all, that mystery hand could've been grabbing her in her bathing suit area. Portman knew it had to one of her fellow jury members, but she thought it was too soon to be so handsy with her. Portman reportedly said, "We just met at brunch a couple of hours ago, but I need a bit more than a conversation over some crêpes before you can just willy-nilly throw your hand on me like you're Bob Dylan or something."

[Photo Credit: Splash Pics]

Also on the bright side, we won't get robbed on the Croisette like seemingly everyone else in an increasingly frequent rite of passage known as "Cote d' Ass-Losing":

Bill Pence, director of Dartmouth's film school and a co-founder of the Telluride festival, was lining up for a Cannes screening in the early 1990s on the Rue d'Antibes with his wife, Stella, when he felt a light touch on his buttocks. "I said, 'Stella, will you stop that!' And she said, 'I'm not touching you.' " A pickpocket was, and Pence's wallet was gone.

Finally, reviews of Cannes' opening-night film Blindness, which screened for critics this morning, are trickling in. The results are pretty much what we heard a few weeks back: Qualified praise, lukewarm at best, with Jeffrey Wells noting, "I respected Blindness — I certainly agree with what it's saying — but it didn't arouse me at all," and the Telegraph's Sukhdev Sandhu praising castmates Julianne Moore and Alice Braga before concluding, "They do well to save a film that, in trying so hard to be faithful to the novel, falls prey to tone-deafness." Yes, it's only May, but consider this the beginning of the end for its Oscar hopes.

• Jack Black takes on forty pandas [Fest Central]
• What's also playing at Cannes... [LAT]
• Cannes 2008: Blindness Review [Telegraph]