<![CDATA[Gawker: defamer, coming attractions]]> http://tags.gawker.com/assets/base/img/thumbs140x140/gawker.com.png <![CDATA[Gawker: defamer, coming attractions]]> http://gawker.com/tag/defamer/comingattractions http://gawker.com/tag/defamer/comingattractions <![CDATA[Paul Giamatti Jumps On Sexy Vampire Bandwagon With 'Bubba Ho-Tep' Sequel]]> Coming off an Emmy win and a succession of dues-paying mainstream offerings, Paul Giamatti has clearly earned enough clout to call his next shot the way he wants it. And while some guys would just just wander off to make the "most awful movie they can find," Giamatti has his heart set on a surefire American classic: Bubba Nosferatu: Curse of the She Vampires.

The film would cap a dream dating all the way back to 2002, when Giamatti stumbled upon the cult hit Bubba Ho-Tep in a New York art house, submitting his sizable imagination to the story of an over-the-hill Elvis (Bruce Campbell in the role of his life), a black JFK, and their joint battle against a mummy cowboy in the nursing-home showdown of the century. As Vanity Fair notes today, the closing credits jokily promised a sequel, but the overwhelmed Giamatti wasn't letting Campbell or director Don Coscarelli off the hook. There would be a Bubba franchise, and Paul Giamatti would kick-start it to life, attaching himself as Elvis's doomed manager Col. Tom Parker:

I really think movies like this are so much more insightful about Elvis and the myth of Elvis than any bio-pic could ever be. Anyway, it also explores his relationship with Colonel Parker, his Svengali-like manager who controlled so much of Elvis’ career. It’s about how the Colonel cons him into doing one more movie, and then they get involved with vampires and the Colonel literally ends up selling his soul to the devil. There’s also a character who thinks he is or may actually be Sitting Bull. And there are peyote trips and all sorts of weird, supernatural things. It’s such a great script.

And "hot female vampires," naturally, just in case an Oscar-nominated sidekick isn't enough nudge this closer to a green light in a skittish financing climate. Giamatti isn't worried at all, he adds: "We’ll definitely get Bubba Nosferatu made. It’s just a question of when and where." This is probably where that Manoj connection would be best utilized; that guy craps money, and God knows he owes Giamatti at least 15 million favors after Lady in the Water.

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<![CDATA['Watchmen' Teaser Debuts to Utter Confusion, Slight Ear Pain]]> In a summer where we seemingly can't go a full day without facing down some newer, denser wave of comic-book effluvia, the recently released Watchmen teaser is up there among the more nerve-rattling encounters we've endured. It may just be the destabilizing Billy Corgan whine, or poor Billy Crudup writhing in CGI anguish, or the idea that Zack Snyder is actually the "visionary director of 300" to which the ad copy refers. Or maybe it's just that the only teasers that seem to captivate our attention any longer feature either vaguely racist chihuahua dance numbers, Brad Pitt aging backwards in Spanish or some permutation of men saving Earth — usually brooding and often in slow-motion. Maybe it's just that we need to get out more. In any case, here you go. Did we mention Billy Corgan whines? Never mind. [Empire]

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<![CDATA[New 'Mamma Mia!' Trailer Plays Up Streep Slut Humor, Vaguely Swedish Noise]]> No sooner did the Universal logo appear onscreen than straight men around the world shrugged at the sight of the new Mamma Mia! trailer, a glittering, sensory-overloading hint at this summer's forthcoming tribute to the revolving institutions of ABBA, Meryl Streep, and general gayness.


While we respect the near-seismic impact of the film's Broadway source material and its iconic star, we're especially interested in the backloaded allusions to Streep's character's licentious past. By "allusions," we mean her half-hearted denial of "sleeping with hundreds of men," or her friends' cheeky amusement at her charming history of looseness, or her spread legs in the foreground of a shot featuring the panty-melting trifecta of Pierce Brosnan, Colin Firth and Stellan Skarsgard. Additionally, the accompanying melodic drone isn't even ABBA, but rather something akin to American Idol ABBA, one degree and two volume notches removed from tuneless cruise-ship ignominy. Are we the only ones missing the discriminating taste (or at least the genetic coding) required to think this was a good idea?

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<![CDATA[Trailer Hints At The Further Animal-Humping Antics Of 'Kill Buljo']]>
Last Wednesday, we momentarily paused from the unrelenting gloom of our StrikeWatching activities to sneak in a smile at the goat-despoiling adventures promised by an ad for Kill Buljo, a Norwegian import in which a katana-wielding, Boratesque protagonist embarks on a Kill Bill-inspired quest for revenge upon the fiends who slaughtered his family. Today, we again briefly pause from our unhealthy immersion in the ongoing labor strife to share the film's dubbed, English-language trailer; while we were disappointed there's no cameo by the cloven-hoofed object of Buljo's affections, it does feature a poignant reaction shot of a startled cow (and a mysterious flash of a pelvic thrust), happily suggesting that our hero's appetite for ruminant-buggery might extend to comely members of the bovine family.

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<![CDATA[Beowulf Marketing Team Deems Product Perfectly Suited for Public Storage Facility]]>
Should we be surprised that the largest visual Beowulf marketing placement in Tinseltown is a customized gift-wrap of the Public Storage facility squatting at the corner of Santa Monica and Highland? Nay! The well-researched placement is simply Paramount's attempt to sequester a share of the eyeballs normally reserved for Apple's longstanding "We are fucking huge, and we are here to stay" tribute to dancing and antisocial behavior directly across the street.

It is unclear at press time whether the buyers were extended the facility's standard "$1/first month" contract afforded typical lessees. Pointless closeup follows; unfortunately in this case, the zoom further prevents a sidelong glimpse of a massive, Public Storage-prepared, naked, golden, compellingly lifelike Angelina Jolie.

beostorage3.jpg

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<![CDATA[David Hasselhoff Given Inevitable E! Show]]> hasselhoff-talent.jpgToday, the creative dream team of American Idol host/tireless megaproducer Ryan Seacrest and America's Got Talent judge/off-key finale-stealer David Hasselhoff have announced their promising collaboration on Tales From the Hoff, a scripted E! series that should provide a much-needed respite from the celebrity-fellating network's nonstop countdown-related programming. If you've ever furrowed a brow at the actor's repeated attempts at sustaining a post-Baywatch show business career and thought to yourself, "This man's sad quest to remain relevant to a generation that's never even heard of Knight Rider would make a darkly funny television show," then this upcoming project will quickly find itself on your Season Pass list, according to Var:

While "Tales From the Hoff" will center on a fictional character, the similarities between that character and Hasselhoff are obvious, including Hasselhoff's marital status (he divorced last year). Project stemmed from conversations Hasselhoff had with friends about how his life might inspire an interesting TV show.

As potentially hilarious as watching a lightly fictionalized Hasselhoff try to navigate a Hollywood that's far crasser than the one of his relatively recent lifeguarding heyday with nary a vagina to flash at the single, camera-toting tourist he mistakes for a paparazzo trying to document his El Pollo Loco run sounds, the producers have probably reviewed every episode of the stillborn So NoToriOus and realize the chief creative obstacle they face: No matter how long they lock themselves in the writers' room, they'll never dream up a scenario for their washed-up protagonist more tragicomically surreal than the twenty seconds of floorburger footage that's defined his recent career.

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<![CDATA[Opportunistic Producer To Dramatize The Greatest Hits Of Your Favorite Celebrity Trainwrecks]]> Hoping to further exploit the seemingly inexhaustible demand for stories about the Denali-jacking, coke-panted, briefly-incarcerated-but- frequently-rehabbed starlets whose misadventures move as much tabloid product as the public can choke down, producer Joe Nasser—you may know him as the mastermind responsible for the upcoming Willa Ford vehicle Anna Nicole—today announces his intention to eventually bring Celebutard: The Motion Picture (inferior working title: Hollywood Brats) to the big screen. Reports the Times:

"It's all about these girls in Hollywood getting into trouble," Nasser said. "You see them all go to jail, you see them get arrested, you see them go through trials and tribulations."
Nasser said the script will use the names of real celebrities, but he isn't saying yet whether any of those names will be Paris Hilton, Nicole Richie, Lindsay Lohan or Britney Spears. "I'm not allowed to let those names out yet," he said.

So, how can Nasser base his movie on real-life celebrities without their permission? Simple, he says. "As long as we stick to the truth, we're in good shape." He said the movie will be about "real people" and based on "the public record."

Despite Nasser's frustratingly coy refusal to name the specific subjects of the film, we're confident the LAT's speculation about the film's troubled protagonists will prove accurate, and he'll soon have agents representing Dancing With the Stars-level talent like Anna Nicole's Ford clamoring for the opportunity to portray the most dramatic moments of Nicole Richie's 82 minutes in prison, or to prove that they can bawl on command just as convincingly as Paris Hilton when placed in the back of a police car after being taunted with one delicious night of house arrest.

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<![CDATA[New Technology Helps Angelina Jolie Return To Her Nudity-Positive Cinematic Past]]>
[Note: video possibly NSFW] The release of the red-band trailer for Beowulf finally provides a promising demonstration of the powerful motion-capture technology director Robert Zemeckis has been trying to perfect over the last handful of years. While earlier versions of his moviemaking technique were able to produce nothing more impressive than disturbingly dead-eyed, animated children in The Polar Express and somewhat less disturbingly dead-eyed, animated children in Monster House, the director's mainframes can now generate computer-enhanced images of a naked, golden Angelina Jolie so compellingly lifelike that audiences will momentarily forget about all the fantasy-destroying, do-gooding baggage she's accumulated since acquiring her debilitating orphan-collecting addiction.

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<![CDATA[Funny Or Die Taking No Chances On Upcoming Bill Murray Clip Going Viral]]> murray-golfcart.jpgBack in the good old days of the web—say, circa April of 2007—when one's CAA-backed, Will Ferrell-supported comedy video-sharing site had an amusing clip starring an attention-grabbing A-list talent one wished would go "viral," one simply posted it and let the internets work their magic, confident that endlessly forwarded links would efficiently deliver their work to the eyeballs of bored employees across the globe. Now, however, we live in far more complicated times, when newly retained PR firms dare not leave anything to chance, as evidenced by this e-mail invitation enlisting the help of the "internet press" to turn Bill Murray into Funny or Die's next drunken, swearing baby:

FUNNY OR DIE INVITES YOU TO PARTICIPATE IN A SPECIAL INTERNET PRESS PREVIEW OF "FCU: FACT CHECKERS UNIT" AN UPCOMING FUNNYORDIE.COM EXCLUSIVE WEB SHORT STARRING BILL MURRAY, THURSDAY, SEPT. 6

We'll spare you the rest of the press release, but there's also a phone interview scheduled with the video's creators for the following day, during which they'll "discuss the web short and their experience working with Bill Murray." Welcome to the age of the inter-junket! Unfortunately, the virtual nature of the two-day event doesn't afford bloggers the opportunity to gorge themselves at a free buffet, bitch about the unfriendliness of the talent, and speculate about whether those clever Funny or Die folks staged Murray's recent drunken golf-cart arrest in Sweden as a masterful publicity stunt, though we suppose these traditional meatspace press tour activities can be simulated through instant messenger and a trip to the fridge. We're sure that by the clip's official debut on Monday, all this pre-release buzz will deliver opening day numbers not seen since the adorably crapulent Pearl first called deadbeat tenant Ferrell a bitch.

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<![CDATA[Reality TV's Stale Bounty Hunting Genre Gets Estrogen Injection It So Desperately Needed]]>
Every time we attempted to watch more than 30 seconds of Dog the Bounty Hunter, we always found ourselves wishing that someone would replace the pro-wrestler-looking guy with the ass-length mullet with a bunch of
chicks who would occasionally type on laptops, roundhouse-kick heavy bags, and say things like, "We're gonna have to Tazer this guy!" or "I'm gonna bring him out with my big, sexy, luuurrring ways." A thank you, then, is owed to Court TV for so thoroughly meeting all our bounty hunting show needs, as demonstrated in this Today clip. We might finally have something else to check out on the network after we're done watching freakishly thin Star Jones learn to live with the decreased capacity of her walnut-sized stomach.

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<![CDATA[Japanese Still Leading Lagging American Networks In Reality TV Technology]]>
Given envelope-pushing Fox reality guru Mike Darnell's recent contract extension and NBC rock star Ben Silverman's proven track record of repurposing the very best of foreign television for American audiences, we expect a heated bidding war for the rights to Japan's Joyous Marble-Smash Happy Funtime Challenge to begin momentarily. Our prediction is that Fox will prevail over the Peacock, and the late summer debut of the Jeff Foxworthy-hosted Can We Punch You In The Balls For A Hundred Dollars? will be an unqualified hit.

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<![CDATA[We Know What You're Not Seeing This Weekend]]>
In the interest of bringing a small amount of closure to the Lohan-related events we've so exhaustively covered this week, we note the unsurprisingly low Tomatometer score for her cinematic sideshow I Know Who Killed Me, which, in fairness, reflects the opinions of only a small group of critics due to the studio's understandable decision (really, hasn't everyone suffered enough?) not to pre-screen it for the media. But to judge from this first wave of nearly unanimous negative reviews, not even the prospect of sharing an inappropriate laugh in a theater sparsely populated by fellow trainwreck fans is worth the price of a ticket.

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<![CDATA[Wonder what Tom Cruise has been up to recently...]]> Wonder what Tom Cruise has been up to recently besides scrapping with the Scientology-hating Germans who want to stop him from killing Hitler? Fighting with Meryl Streep, apparently, in Lions for Lambs. [Moviefone]

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<![CDATA[A Deeper Understanding Of What Makes Paula Abdul Tick Just A Few Short Weeks Away]]>

Last night's edition of brain-smoothing dinnertime celebrity newsmagazine Extra offered up a crazy-flavored appetizer for the upcoming Bravo reality series, Hey, Paula!!!, in which the American Idol judge unscrews the top of her head and allows the world an opportunity to climb inside and stroll around the church-parking-lot-quality carnival that is her mind. The brief clip reveals little, but now we do know this: her "best friend" is her stylist (always a sign that a famous person has disengaged from reality), there are many fluffy dogs—some of which will defecate on camera—underfoot to provide believable excuses for medication-induced mishaps, and we will get some glimpses of the Idol-related "exhaustion" incidents that are the reason the show exists in the first place. Unfortunately, we have to wait until late June before the star can officially welcome us into her home, a greeting that we expect will be followed by Abdul handing us a shopping bag full of half-empty prescription-pill bottles and urging us to makes ourselves at home.

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<![CDATA[Bay's 'Transformers' Premiere To Terrorize Westwood]]>
While we're well aware that it's the rapidly approaching Transformers premiere that's inspiring the look of "Look upon my hacky works, ye mighty, and despair!" pride on the face of Michael Bay, we imagine that not everyone who finds themselves confronted with the countdown clock currently ticking away on the fauxteur's web presence will know exactly what will happen when it reaches zero. Still, the unlabeled doomsday timer is an appropriately unsubtle reminder that no individual Bay blockbuster is larger than the blowing-shit-up visionary behind it, even if that movie will soon be launched in one of the most over-the-top promotional orgies ever staged in a city known for its love of excess. Reports the LAT:

In one of the biggest premieres ever held in Los Angeles, the Bay juggernaut — about a race of alien robots trying to gobble Earth — will take over not one, but four Westwood movie houses on June 27, with 4,000 seats available, not just for swank "Transformers" stars like It-boy Shia LaBeouf or executive producer Steven Spielberg, but for actual members of the public.

The premiere will be followed by a party on Broxton Avenue in Westwood that is open to anyone who attends one of the screenings at the Landmark Regent Theatre, the Mann National Theatre, the Mann Bruin Theatre and the Mann Village Theatre.

Organizers have managed to keep the upcoming event's biggest set piece a secret, a stunt which we can now exclusively reveal: As fans file out from the various Westwood venues, the director himself will roar into the center of the throng in a custom-made Lamborghini, rip an undisclosed number of tire-scorching donuts, then proceed to blow what's left of their minds by transforming the car into a 30-foot-tall, robotic version of himself; once Bay feels the mob has been sufficiently paralyzed with awe, he'll then use the spectacular machine's specially calibrated claws to pluck the two most attractive, scantily clad women (twins, preferably) from the crowd and lumber off into the night, crushing the occasional Hummer beneath its feet just to drive his busty hostages wild with desire.

[Image: MichaelBay.com]

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