<![CDATA[Gawker: defamer, julian schnabel]]> http://tags.gawker.com/assets/base/img/thumbs140x140/gawker.com.png <![CDATA[Gawker: defamer, julian schnabel]]> http://gawker.com/tag/defamer/julianschnabel http://gawker.com/tag/defamer/julianschnabel <![CDATA[Poor Annie Leibovitz Has Pawned All Her Photos]]> We knew that celebrity photographer Annie Leibovitz had some serious financial problems. But we didn't know they were so bad that she had to sign over all of her photos to a pawn shop:

The NYT today reveals that Leibovitz took out more than $15 million in loans from Art Capital Group—essentially a very high class pawn shop specializing in art.

Last fall, Annie Leibovitz, the photographer, borrowed $5 million from a company called Art Capital Group. In December, she borrowed $10.5 million more from the same firm. As collateral, among other items, she used town houses she owns in Greenwich Village, a country house, and something else: the rights to all of her photographs.

In addition to the lawsuit for more than $700k from unpaid vendors, Leibovitz reportedly used the cash to pay back taxes and finance "a lengthy, costly and litigious renovation on the three adjoining town houses." Why one would pawn their town houses in order to raise money to renovate them, I do not know.

Obviously, a $2 million per year income is no savior from hard times. And hey, Julian Schnabel also pawned some real estate with the same firm to help finance his goddamn monstrosity of a pink, constantly-discounted celebrity condo building, Palazzo Chupi. Pawn shops prey on the rich just as they do the poor. Fairness!

[NYT. By bullshit trend specialist Allen Salkin, but with actual value! Good story Allen. Pic via]

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<![CDATA[Batman, ABBA and... Lou Reed? Summer's Biggest Weekend is Upon Us]]> Welcome to another edition of Defamer Attractions, your weekly cheat sheet to everything new and noteworthy at the movies. This is a fairly easy installment for us, as will happen when the most anticipated superhero movie of, like, ever is threatening to run off with the biggest opening weekend, like, ever. As such, knowing that at least half of you are browsing this from a lawn chair in some long, twisting multiplex queue, let's skip the formalities: This weekend features one blockbuster, a melodic bit of counterprogramming, a primate-centric flop-in-the-making and a concert film for the manic depressive in you. As usual, our opinions are our own, but they are burnished to a soft, infallible glow. Off we go!

WHAT'S NEW: Look, what more can we say about The Dark Knight? It's terrifically well-made, it's tracking hotter than train on fire and even Terry Gilliam backslid his way into publicizing it. All that matters anymore are the numbers: Warners is unloading this thing on more than 9,000 screens worldwide, including 4,366 in the US. That's a record, reports Variety, though word on the street is that its 152-minute running time and multiplex competition will keep it from breaking Spider-Man 3's record $151 million opening last year. We're not so sure; $145 million isn't out of the question, especially with IMAX screenings sold out literally everywhere and overflow heading into neighboring theaters.

Universal, meanwhile, has exactly the thing for the Batman-o-phobic moviegoer in Mamma Mia!, the Meryl Streep-starring adaptation of the hit ABBA stage musical. We'd rather chew off our tongues than sit through this, but that doesn't mean it couldn't turn around a nice $32 million or so as pretty much the only escape from DK fever. Also opening: Not much, really, with the all-access doc A Very British Gangster and the Kilmer/Dorff prison drama Felon bringing up the art-house rear.

THE BIG LOSER: With Meet Dave presumably a top-10 goner, Fox faces its second consecutive hurdle this week with Space Chimps. This isn't necessarily a "loser," though, looking at roughly $9 million from the families too young for the decidedly dark Knight en route to its DVD/cable future. Call us optimists, but everyone might pretty much get what they want this weekend.

THE UNDERDOG: We recommend Lou Reed's Berlin with a slight reservation: We haven't seen it. But! We did attend the concerts at which Julian Schnabel filmed Reed's live revival of his 1973 masterpiece — a feel-bad epic of drugs, domestic abuse and suicide that makes The Dark Knight look like Batman and Robin. We can vouch for the cinematic quality of the music itself, brought storming from the dead by producer Bob Ezrin and accompanied by vocalist Antony and original, astounding session guitarist Steve Wagner. It took Reed years to reclaim this form (if he did at all; it's debatable), and to catch it through Schnabel's lens, itself at the top of its craft... Well, that doesn't even seem fair.

FOR SHUT-INS: This week's new DVD's include the crackling, commendable Jason Statham heist flick The Bank Job; the Oscar-short-lister Brazilian coming-of-ager The Year My Parents Went on Vacation; the B-thriller Asylum ("From the director of Final Destination 2"!); and for you Emmy-season latecomers, the first season of Holly Hunter's TNT drama Saving Grace.

So, how's the line for Dark Knight? Are are you Team ABBA this weekend? Maybe catching up a bit on your Statham canon? We can't say we blame you. Tell us any best-kept secrets we might have missed!

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<![CDATA[Sean Young's Guide To L.A.'s Best Bars That Don't Feature Boring Julian Schnabel Speeches]]> We hope it's not too soon to pronounce the once-flatlining Oscars fully recovered, tipped upright by an attending nurse, who then removed the IV needle that maintained his celebrity-malnourished frame from his golden arm. All this is wonderful news, especially in light of what was quickly turning out to be the most depressingly atrophied trophy season in Hollywood history—where something as trivial as a bored-to-drunken-action Sean Young being escorted out of the Hyatt Regency became the year's most discussed awards show moment. Young, of course, has since exiled herself to a hecklers wellness facility, but her spirit lives on, particularly in this LAT feature:

In it, she runs down some of her favorite Santa Monica haunts. Ignore, if you can, their too-irreverent-by-half intro, and skip directly to #5. There you'll find tantalizing clues as to what might have gone down that fateful night, the actress's unfamiliarity with a barstool rendering her tolerance against the Schnabel-shushing effects of an open bar virtually negligible. (And God knows those DGA cheapskates would sooner relinquish final cut than part with whatever it costs to adequately feed you!) And while we have no idea which "2 people have saved this user as a favorite," we like to imagine that users Doctor Bombay and Yun are the legendary crazy-lady's secret admirers, Jimmy Woods and Julian Schnabel themselves.

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<![CDATA[ Cornered at an amfAR benefit and asked to...]]> schnabel-dga.jpg Cornered at an amfAR benefit and asked to comment upon The Only Interesting Thing To Happen In This Strike-Crippled Awards Season yet again, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly director Julian Schnabel offered only this controversy-defusing shrug to a disappointed stringer apparently hoping to get him on the record about Sean Young's hasty retreat to rehab: "It's fine... You know what? I didn't have anything interesting to say anyway, so I should beg her to come with me wherever I go!" As far as we can tell, there was no disingenuous follow-up query about whether Schnabel planned to ask Young to be his Oscar date. [Us]

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<![CDATA[Young Vs. Schnabel At The DGA Awards: The Video]]>
By now, we've all read various accounts of Sean Young's valiant attempt to inject some drama into this strike-plagued awards season, seen video of Les Moonves's wife's perky reenactment of the DGA ceremony's disruption, and learned that the troubled actress has retreated to rehab to combat the demons that emboldened her inner acceptance-speech critic to give voice to her frustrations with the pacing of The Diving Bell and the Butterfly director Julian Schnabel's humbly proffered thanks-yous.

THR's Gold Rush blog finally delivers video of the incident, though from the director's perspective; you'll probably have to turn up your speakers to make out Young's now-infamous "Get on with it!" exhortation, but the perturbed honoree's now-poignant "Have another cocktail" retort is clearly documented by the Reporter's camera. Presumably, the clip brings this turbulent chapter in awards show history to an anticlimactic close, at least until some blurry cameraphone footage of Young's subsequent ejection from the event makes its way to YouTube.

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<![CDATA[Sean Young To Battle Awards Ceremony Heckling Demons In Rehab]]> young-rehab.jpgWith news spreading of Sean Young's Schnabel-shushing shenanigans at Saturday night's DGA awards—a story you may have first read about here on Sunday, and that has now achieved critical mass thanks to a lively, first-person retelling by Julie Chen on The Late Show—the spent actress has achieved new rock-bottom depths in the annals of awards season gate-crashing. (Lower even than the time the Blade Runner star sent security on a cat-and-mouse chase throughout the topiaries of the 2006 Vanity Fair Oscar party.) Young has now checked herself into rehab, The Insider is reporting:

THE INSIDER has confirmed that actress Sean Young voluntarily admitted herself yesterday to a rehabilitation center for treatment related to alcoholism. It is understood that Young has struggled against the disease for many years.

Our hearts are with the troubled actress, who'll spend the next long weeks battling her 40-proof demons, and their imprudent suggestions that she fill in for an absent orchestra swell with drunken outbursts whenever awards show speeches threaten to run too long. We'll leave her to her healing, including the composition of a fearless and searching moral inventory that will most likely include the entry, "And I really should never have called Marion Cotillard a 'pute sans talent avec une vilaine bouche comme celle d'une grenouille.' That was just petty."

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<![CDATA[Julian Schnabel Diving Bells The Butterfly Out Of Limey Reporter]]> Diving Bell and the Butterfly director Julian Schnabel tends to split cultural observers the way Hillary splits voters: half adore their ballsy confidence and think they're really making a difference in their respective fields, while the other half kind of just wants to drive a knife into their paunchy tummies. The latter impulse almost sent a London Telegraph reporter to jail after spending time with the hairy-chested artiste for an interview out today. It seems Schnabel's suggestion that the journalist, Mick Brown, was not famous enough to name-drop, coupled with Schnabel's tendency to say "'Cigarette, por favor' to no one in particular" during their meetings was enough to send Brown over the edge...

Despite our adoration of Diving Bell, plus our general appreciation of loony boys from Brooklyn who build pink townhouses in the middle of Manhattan, we can't really blame Brown after reading through the article. Speaking of his reviews for the Oscar-nominated Bell, Schnabel says, "'Have you read them?' making no attempt to hide his glee. 'If my mother wrote them they couldn't be nicer.'" And after being reminded of his famous declaration that he's "as close to Picasso as you are going to get in this fucking life," he goes on to beat a dead horse hard:

"No, no - I think this is important. If you don't have the work, you don't fucking play...I don't know if people really know too much about painting, and that's not to be condescending. It's so obscured by personalities, the market and people's fascination with money. Making art is an act of peace. And people forget that."

Who knew the first steps towards peace were insulting the press, cussin' left and right, and (don't forget!) pink apartment condos for Bono?
JULIAN SCHNABEL: LARGING IT [DAILY TELEGRAPH]]]>
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<![CDATA[Robbed Of Their Moment, This Year's Golden Globe Victors Agree That It's An Honor Just To Win]]> globeschaos.jpgAfter a disorienting Golden Access Globes Press Hollywood Conference Awards that left nominees and audiences alike utterly befuddled (we understand Sally Field was fished out of The Grove's dancing waters fountain at 3 a.m. delivering an impassioned speech about bringing the troops home to two security guards on a golf cart), our traditional Globes parties post-mortem promised to be a similar mess. Still, if there were awards, and there were winners, by God there's going to be a reactions round-up, even if it comes off sounding a lot like the ones you read after the nominations are announced:
· The Atonement crew toasted their win at a bungalow at the Chateau Marmont, where the ghost of O.D.'d John Belushi smiled over their WWII romance's win. [Variety]
· Marion Cotillard enjoyed her win for La Vie en Rose from the Four Seasons. "I'm enjoying so much what's going on here, I can't be disappointed in any way," she said, convincingly masking her extreme disappointment. [Variety]

· Julian Schnabel learned of his Best Director win at New York City airport baggage carousel, upon turning his cellphone on: "It was very glamorous. It was one of those existential moments. I was extremely happy." [USA Today]
· Like Ernest Borgnine's bash, Sweeney Todd producer Richard Zanuck made it a family affair, taking in the press conference from his son's home in Beverly Hills—which is nice, but not, like, seated next to Johnny Depp with lots of water glasses and fancy silverware nice: "I must say, it's a wonderful thing to be seated at a table and all the suspense of that. All that was nonexistent (tonight), but it doesn't take away from the honor." [Variety]
· "Glenn Close, best TV actress/drama for FX's Damages, was in a bar in New York's meatpacking district with the show's cast and crew. 'It's a wonderful way to watch — we were rooting for our team.'" She then mounted the counter at the Brass Monkey for a celebratory striptease patrons won't soon forget. [ABC News]
· Best Actor in TV Series, Musical or Comedy winner David Duchovny went to see a movie while the winners were announced: "I kinda didn't want to watch, it would just make me tense or nervous, so I went out to see a movie at four (o'clock) and I knew I wouldn't be home until it was announced. I knew if my phone was ringing when I walked into my hotel room that I would have won. And it was. Nobody calls a loser." And with that, this year's ceremony wiped the snot from its nose as it checked its phone in vain for any congratulatory messages. [AP]

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