Saw a finished print of M:I3 last night at a test screening in the valley. At one point when Tom Cruise is trying to explain to Michelle Monaghan that he has to go away on a "business trip" (i.e. secret mission), she asks him if their relationship is "real" to which he responds "of course it's real." Our row snickered with laughter.

Also, not sure if it was intentional, but the end of the movie features a reference to "The Cruise." When Tom rides off into the sunset with his girl, his co-workers do the fists in the air stance from Oprah. Hifuckinglarious.

Given that our spy made no mention of a scene in which a hysterical Monaghan clutches a positive pregnancy test and cries to Cruise, "I don't understand, we didn't even have sex! And this is totally not in my contract!" we have to assume that any similarities between the film's plot points and the actor's life, no matter how funny and eerie they seem, are merely coincidental. Had the humorless Cruise thought there was even a whiff of an inside joke at his expense, he immediately would have ordered director J.J. Abram's death.

So I read on Defamer that test audiences hated the end of the movie because Jen and Vince don't stay together...but I saw a test screening of it last night at Universal (yeah, I was recruited at AMC in Burbank), and at the panel afterwards, pretty much everyone HATED the new ending they tacked on to make it seem like they got back together...and I mean hated it.

How can the studio be expected to make art when the very audiences that clamored for Aniston's happiness suddenly decide to turn their backs on the hastily shot, cynically proferred new ending they asked for? There's just no pleasing fickle moviegoers so utterly insensitive to the emotional turbulence Jen suffered this past year.

The most amazing thing about this extravaganza held last night at the DGA theater on Sunset was not the usual business of the producers/directors/studio execs fellating each other onstage before the movie began. Nor was it the heavy concentration of A-listers on site. Rather, it was the reaction (read: deafening silence) of the Hollywood establishment to Scientology War Bride Katie Holmes, who had a fairly meaty part in this good little satirical film.

When director Jason Reitman (son of Ivan Reitman) got on stage to gush about almost everything that's happened since the fall of Nero's Rome, he made glorious mention of just about every cast member (including the kid that plays the son of the "hero" and Robert Duvall, et al.). He named about four or six random exec. producers but blatantly left Bride Holmes off the list. Once the film started, there were plenty of laughs all around. But as soon as KH's perky face lit the screen, it was like a Scientology shit bomb went off and no one wanted even to steal a glance at their seatmate for fear of acknowledging the smell. The scenes of KH being fucked six different ways on/in six different tables, couches and closets were intact (minus any purported nudity—boo!). But again, not a whisper of anything from the crowd. Same with the remainder of her scenes. In short, the demise of the War Bride seems complete. Sightings at the movie and post bash include: Christopher Buckley (author of the movie's novel); J.T. Simmons, Rob Lowe (dapper in an all black suit); Adam Brody and Rachel Bilson (she was looking jail-bait hot, he's way too hipster-skinny); Cathryn Manheim; Anthony Kedis (way mellow and subdued); Kristin Cavalleri; William H. Macy; and the best sighting of all...former skating queen Tara Lipinski (crowding a brother out at the buffet line for those delicious little roast beef sandwiches...)

• Previously: Up Next For Cruise And Holmes: Hot Oil Massage At The Final Four [Defamer]

Question: “Have you had any interviews where you WEREN'T asked what the love scenes were like to film?”

Answer: “No”

Q: “What is the subtext of the question people ask about the love scenes?”

Jake's answer: “I want to ask people 'Why do you ask? What are you feeling?'”

After a seemingly endless string of months answering the same query, we can understand why Gyllenhaal is still a tad defensive about the whole thing, especially considering he probably had to flip over and let Ledger have his way with him several dozen times before director Ang Lee was satisfied that cowboy-bottom verisimilitude was achieved. The rest of the screening report follows after the jump:

The Aero Theater was filled with BROKEBACKERS on Monday night for the sold-out showing of BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN with cast. The line to get in the theater was down Montana with a few hopefuls wishing for a ticket. How good it was to be on the Westside for the BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN showing. CRASH is just SO Sunset and Vine.

Around me were people who had seen the film 5-10 times and knew every nuance, every flirtatious glance, every sly “under the cowboy hat” look. The crowd was varied but a bit top heavy with Gay Cowboy Wannabees and 20-something girls looking like they want to throw their panties at the screen every time there was a fevered lip lock.

After the film ran the excitement shot through the crowd as the Newsweek moderator took the stage to introduce the guests. Sadly, Ang Lee was stuck in Connecticut and couldn't fly out with the Winter storm. So while Ang was shoveling snow the other guests were hanging out in the alley behind the Aero. I refuse to take the low road and suggest the irony of Jake and Heath spending time in a dark alley even if it is off of Montana.

Taking the stage in order were Gustavo Santaolalla (Composer), Rodrigo Prieto (Cinematographer), Diana Ossana (Producer/Writer), Michelle, Jake, and Heath.

I know what you people want to know so I'll be direct. Michelle looked too skinny in that “I have to wear a designer dress to the Oscars in just a few days and I've recently given birth so I think I'll stop eating.” Note: Nikki Finke may be on to something.

Heath had the energy level of a Cigar Store Indian but then maybe it is all Method Acting.

Jake was a pleasant surprise with interesting, thoughtful comments and answers (“I prefer Revelation to Rationalization”) but let's be honest, his parents are well read (see past Defamer postings).

It was a good Q & A. We all know that there is nothing worse than sitting through a bad Q & A in this town. Even more surprising was the interesting questions coming from the audience. Here's a sampling:

Question: “Have you had any interviews where you WEREN'T asked what the love scenes were like to film?”

Answer: “No”

Q: “What is the subtext of the question people ask about the love scenes?”

Jake's answer: “I want to ask people 'Why do you ask? What are you feeling?'”

Q: What do you like to think happened to Ennis at the end of the movie?

Jake's answer: “I like to think that Ennis meets Jack's son.”

Favorite Audience comments:

“This movie does something for me that Will and Grace could never do.”

“What were you straight boys thinking?”

If you really want to hear the story on this film though my money is on Diana Ossana . Having pushed this project for 8 years she teased the crowd about the well known actors who wanted to do it and then drifted away. She felt their agents had dissuaded
them. Oh please Diana, name names. Was one of them named MARIO LOPEZ?

Finally a fun fact to pass on: the trick that Jack Twist (Jake) picks up in Juarez Mexico is none other than Rodrigo Garcia the Cinematographer! However, there is no truth to the persistent rumour that Annie Proulx made a cameo as a sheep.

• Previously: Oscar Controversy: Is Michelle Williams Hot Enough For Heath Ledger? [Defamer]

Tuesday night (11/29) at the clusterfuck Brokeback Mountain premiere in Westwood - Jaime Lee Curtis and Christopher Guest gave us the “we’re rich people!” eye as we ate our mini quesadillas at Baja Fresh beforehand; New SAG president and Marg Helgenberger lesser half Alan Rosenberg did his schmoozing, "I’m going to take over the world one DVD royalty at a time" thing in the lobby of the Mann National before the movie; Bryan Greenberg, he of the “his penis is so cute I want to knit a hat for it” Prime fame, talking to some friends, and perhaps needing to carry around some facial oil blotters if he knows what’s good for him;...

...extremely nice “Hey! It’s that guy”! Jon Polito and I shared a moment in the crowed lobby; Gay substitute gardener Ryan Carnes and dead Mama Solis Lupe Ontiveros, who no longer have jobs on Desperate Housewives, were mulling around the theater; pocket-sized James Madio, Perconte from Band of Brothers, sat a few seats down from us and it took everything within me not to yell “Where’s Gonorrhea?!”; Randy Quaid was not wearing a man muumuu, thankfully; Kate Mara is absolutely stunning; In the bathroom, Crazy Piper Laurie and her big purple coat apparently distracted me from noticing The Lohan and her makeup being attended to by her 5 person entourage. Whether the 5 of them were previously in a stall together, for an undetermined period of time, I do not know. However, I can tell everyone that when I finally saw her at the after party, SHE WAS EATING. FOOD! A decent amount of it, in fact! Glory be! And finally, “See, I’ve got manly facial hair! I’m not Toothy Tile, really!” Jake Gyllenhaal was holding court in a corner of the restaurant, with Linda Cardellini and Busy Phillips nearby, while Miss Maggie Gyllenhaal and her bf Peter Sarsgaard mixed more with the industry plebes in the middle of the room. I’d give you a Defamer Food Report, but I didn’t eat any of it. It looked chi chi, meh, and pretentious, much like the film itself.

[Photo: WireImage]

• Previously: Defamer Premiere Report: “Thumbsucker” Goes Through The Motions [Defamer]

It was another night of star-studded anticipation at the storied Cinerama Dome, site of so many classic lead-ins to some of the great buffets of modern times. And last night had all the signs that Hollywood dining history would be made again—on the screen, a young woman named Emily Rose battled heroically against the demons that had possessed her body, while in the seats, I battled no less heroically against a gnawing, consuming hunger not for immortal salvation, but to eat and eat lavishly in the style of Hollywood kings of yore.

A little background for the uninitiated into premiere dining. Hollywood premieres almost universally kick off with an 8 PM movie screening. However, by the time all the C -ist stars are dragged away from their paparazzi mugging on the red carpet and into their seats, it is 8:30. Which means that after two hours of watching Emily Rose twist herself up in "there's a demon inside me" yoga poses, the demons were telling me to gnaw off my own hand if I was going to live long enough to enjoy the buffet.

The party, however, was mercifully close by, at the Cabana Club, site of so many classic Movieline advertiser promotional shindigs throughout history. The location was well-chosen for a premiere party; not as cold and loud as the cavernous Athletic Club, where many post-Dome fetes seem to be held. The floor was spacious enough for one to move around with a minimal number of elbows in your face. There was actually seating available, with no more than 3/4 of the Cabana-themed cabanas reserved for VIPs.

So on at last to what we all came for: the all-you-can-eat banquet of the finest in entertainment cuisine. Buffet-bound, I nabbed a couple of circulating hors d'oeuvres—large (but somewhat bland) crabcakes and shrimp cocktail. The downside of shrimp cocktail, of course, is that once you finish it, you are stuck with a shrimp tail in a rolled up napkin in your hand. If you are quick, you can bite off your shrimp while the waitress is still in your presence and deposit it back on the tray. Otherwise, be prepared to incur the scorn of event security when you toss your napkin in the Cabana club moat, as I did.

And then I came to the first buffet. The spread was ample, not breathtakingly imaginative, but generous in portions. Cold asparagus, mashed potatoes, sautéed spinach, cheese ravioli, grilled chicken in mushroom sauce, and roast beef with a peppercorn sauce. Standard banquet fare one might receive at a wedding rehearsal dinner anywhere on Earth, but fine. The grilled chicken was especially notable. I finished my plate, satisfied that I'd had a good lead in and enthused for the next buffet.

I turned to table two, where I was surprised to find - cold asparagus, mashed potatoes, sautéed spinach, cheese ravioli, grilled chicken in mushroom sauce and roast beef with a peppercorn sauce. Well, it happens. Stations will repeat themselves. I crossed the room to the third buffet table and my mouth dropped in horror when I found...cold asparagus, mashed potatoes...

Could this really be the complete selection? Here I was, at an extremely prestigious event in the epicenter of world entertainment culture, dining alongside the titans of entertainment, and this was it? I mean, it was fine, I enjoyed what I ate, I wasn't leaving hungry, but Showmanship, I cried, where art thy sting?

I moved up to the VIP area. Surely, I thought, they would not come to a red carpet premiere and settle for less than a king's banquet. Once I was able to worm my way around Endeavor superagent Phil Raskin, who held his post like a Beefeater guard outside beloved international star Shohreh Aghdashloo's cabana, I gazed to see the woman who charmed the world in "House of Sand and Fog" and "24" picking at her cheese ravioli. Two cabanas away, Emily Rose herself, the acclaimed star Jennifer Carpenter, worked her way through a plate of sautéed spinach.

And then, the coup de grace was struck against me. When, I asked a waiter, would the deserts arrive? He shook his head. There would be no chocolate fountain tonight.

In future centuries, entertainment historians will see there is no surer predictor of a film's success than the quality of the food at the premiere. Readers of my "Spider-man 2" food review will recall that film banked 200 mil domestic right there at the fried dough with powdered sugar stand. Based on this formula, I predict Emily Rose will do fine its opening weekend. Hungry audiences will get what they came for—they will eat. But as for repeat viewers, I predict there will be few coming back for supernatural creepiness and chicken in mushroom sauce.

Epilogue: Just as I was leaving, a waitress passed by bearing a plate of small desserts. The earlier waiter had lied. I grabbed a spongy little chocolate cake and a glazed lemon tart. They were both quite nice.

• Defamer Food Review: Tray Tables Fully Upright And Locked At “Red Eye” Premiere [Defamer]

I am a survivor of the recent PRETTY PERSUASION premiere at the ArcLight, the debacle with James Woods begging for seats, fist fights breaking out at the concession stand, and the long walk through the dark streets of Hollywood to the after party by girls in high heels. Just reliving it in writing brings on the sweats. So you can understand my initial reluctance in attending another premiere. However, I did manage to get back on the horse.

Last night the Egyptian theatre held a premiere for THUMBSUCKER with an after-party in the courtyard sponsored by Venice magazine, the magazine that all P. R. flacks have wet dreams about.

Things started with a cringe=worthy intro by the Sony Picture Classics rep where we were told that “it was uncomfortable to have this event with all that is going on in the Gulf Coast but there could be no better film at this time to show us the strength of humanity.” Memo to Sony execs…scrap those witty trailers and call CNN for flood footage. THUMBSUCKING saves the day!

Director Mike Mills brought up the cast and crew members in attendance. Of the cast, only Lou Pucci, Kelli Garner, Keanu Reeves, and Benjamin Bratt (Julia left me for a cameraman?) were in attendance. Keanu was in full Zen Lord of the Universe form. He had a slight beard growth and dark clothing and that distant look which communicates that he is pondering the universe - or wondering where he parked his motorcycle.

Mike Mills filled the front of the theatre with the crew and some members of Polyphonic Spree choir, but not all. They were a Polyphonic Spree Lite, if you will. It was priceless watching all these people stand there while Polyphonic Spree did an acoustic version of one the film's songs. Keanu seemed to be pondering the flute player no doubt absorbing her mastery of the wind instrument and what it means to the alchemy of the universe - or he was wondering where he parked his motorcycle.

To the film's credit it allows Keanu to use this Zen Master pose and play it up. his scenes with Lou in the dental chair are highlights. He seems to have fun poking holes in his persona - or else he was wondering where he parked his motorcycle.

Where was Tilda Swinton last night? Where was Vince Vaughn? One can only surmise that Tilda was reading Shakespeare in the country and Vince was locked up in the love lair with Jennifer Aniston.

[Photo: Getty Images]

• One Night At The ArcLight: “Pretty Persuasion” Fiascos, Keanu Reeves Models A Helmet [Defamer]

At the Pretty Persuasion event, readers report that things were so overbooked and disorganized that James Woods, the real star of the movie, found himself pressed into usher duty. Here's one account:

Last night I attended the L.A. premiere for PRETTY PERSUASION, an Evan Rachel Wood starrer that could be be described (in a lazy, development exec sort of way) as TO DIE FOR meets WILD THINGS meets CLUELESS meets CRUEL INTENTIONS. In other words, it was a slightly above par private school drama about a bunch of opportunistic, manipulative rich bitches in short skirts. [Ed.note—Our "Eh." experience with the Sundance cut is here. ]

After being passed from line to line like a cheap whore, I finally made my way into the screening room. My friends and I quickly grabbed spots, which was a good thing. After an uncomfortable interim whereby people walked around and tried to nab whatever seats they could, it became clear that there weren't near enough to go around. Soon, people were told if they didn't have a seat that they would have to leave and would be compensated (overbooked airline style) for the humiliation of being completely expendable. The best part of the night came when James Woods himself helped usher people out the door. Among those sorry losers? Agents! That's right. A diminutive agent I recognized didn't get a seat. My heart went out to him, as I pity any bottom dwelling agent who doesn't get his way.

I noticed that a teen-aged girl got up and gave Ron Livingston her seat. Apparently, Ron has enough clout (even after LITTLE BLACK BOOK) to merit his own private, pubescent seat-filler. Ron and I soon locked eyes. Some might think he just happened to glance in my direction, seeing as I was staring at him, but I'm convinced that we shared a very special second.

Outside of the theater, long lines at the concession stand threatened to plunge the ArcLight into Lord of the Flies-style anarchy. Another reader reports: "The line for popcorn took forever, making tensions run high. Two guys right in front of me started fighting (actual hand-to-hand combat, not angry looks), and then one of the popcorn vendors broke it up." Guys, guys! This is a luxury movie theater! If you want to bitchslap each other over some Junior Mints, take it to Burbank.

After the jump, a high-level Defamer spy interacts with Keanu Reeves, whose smart-looking helmet didn't prevent him from being baffled by another moviegoer's food selection:

Oh wow. Went to see The Aristocrats at the ArcLight last night (Tuesday) and the Pretty Persuasion premiere was going on. Security on this thing was pathetic. My friend and I cruised through the red carpet / paparazzi mayhem to get into the main entrance of the theater. No one seemed to care. My eye is probably in a few Wire Image shots. After passing Even Rachel Wood, James Woods and Selma Blair (all of which are in the movie) we passed a few of the people from Best Week Ever. No that exciting. So we are running a bit late but we still want to get some food before the show starts. So we are at the upstairs concession line waiting to get some popcorn and none other than the one and only Keanu Reeves gets in line behind us.... and he's wearing his motorcycle helmet (not the ones that go over your entire head, but the old fashion kind). He was with two girls that looked seemingly normal and not as fucked-up-seeming as he was. Anyways, he asks us if we are waiting in line. (um it is quite obvious we are, we weren't just lining up single file staring at the register for kicks.) The guy in front of us in line orders a bunch of hot dogs with a mess of everything on them. Keanu goes to us, "Whoa, that guy knows how to order. He has mustard and relish and ketchup and everything." Then he taps the guy on the shoulder and compliments him on his order. Then I say "Well, but you have to eat that in the dark- that's kinda hard." To which he becomes kinda confused. I swear he is Ted from Bill and Ted. So we get our food and rush into the theater. Keanu strolls into the theater sits down and is still wearing his motorcycle helmet - in the dark.

And just for good measure, another reader's brush with Keanu in the snack line and inside The Aristocrats showing:

Arrived last night at The Arclight for what I thought was a screening of "Pretty Persuasion" but turned out to be the world premiere. After passing by a few B-C-D list celebs and realizing that myself and half of the line wasn't going to get in, I opted to buy a ticket to the 7:55 showing of "The Aristocrats". When I got in line for some popcorn and soda, Keanu Reeves was in line in front of me, with a few friends buying loads of food. He paid, his friends thanked him, and they were on their way. I hoped he would be in my auditorium but when I sat down I didn't see him anywhere. Movie starts, hilarity ensues, and then, there it was, like a sonic boom on a quiet night, the Keanu laugh. He was sitting in front of me, and when Gilbert Gottfried tells the joke and adds his "fist-f*cking" reference, Keanu and I both laughed so hard we practically fell out of our chairs. Leaving the theatre after the film, I thought my life was almost complete. Walking up the stairs and back to my car, a couple in front of me were discussing their favorite moments of the film. Just as I was about to interject an agreement, I realized the male was none other than Jon Cryer. It's nights like these, when I realize Los Angeles must be a pretty nifty town, and the only place on earth I can experience the world's filthiest joke with Neo and Ducky.

It's been a long, dry summer for this reviewer without a decent free buffet in sight. Call it The Curse of the Tentpoles, but these days it seems that if it's not Oscar season, you're eating on your own dime in this town. Where I ask, was my Stealth banquet? My Fantastic Four feast? Yes, I suppose it's possible I just wasn't invited. But whatever the reason, I take my predicament as a very woeful commentary on the state of the catering arts in the industry today.

But tonight, invitation in hand, I was dusting off the Hugo Boss and preparing once again to dine like a film tycoon of yore. The engagement: the gala world premiere of August's most eagerly awaited new thriller, Red Eye. The site: Westwood Village's historic Gardens restaurant, storied home to literally thousands of pre-prom dinners for the past two decades.

At 83 minutes, the film hardly gave me time to work up an appetite fit for the task before me. After watching Wes Craven's breakneck ride set on a crowded airplane, the crowd walked across the village from the Bruin theater abuzz with one question locked and frozen in each eye — Did DreamWorks SKG still have the moxie enough, the raw showmanship, to serve airplane food, (or at least airplane-themed food) at the party? Sure, imitating airplane food was an endeavor fraught with peril. Absolutely, potential pitfalls abound from diving into a culinary sector whose shortcomings launched an entire generation of hack comedians. But would the Dream Machine realize that nothing ventured is nothing gained, and, with their company on the ropes, gamble on one fantastic theme dinner?

Within moments of walking into the Gardens' central rotunda, we exhaled—a Caesar salad looming before us, the answer was a resounding "no." While the party planners had passed on the airplane food theme, it might well have been "airport food" themed—the unifying principle, if there was one, seemed to be generic "normal food": baked chicken drumsticks, little Reuben and grilled cheese sandwiches, pizzas. For a man who has drunk deep from the chocolate fountains of Closer and gorged himself on the monkey bread of Beauty Shop this was intolerable. If I want to eat at Hardees, I muttered to no one in particular, I will move to Nebraska. We come, I continued, to Tinseltown to live a dream and I'm being handed grilled cheese sandwiches? I turned a corner into the bar room and saw looming before me, mocking my every step, a giant bowl of nacho chips and salsa not unlike those found at SuperBowl parties and backyard mixers. I choked down hot tears of rage and strongly considered turning on my heels and storming out then and there. But then I realized: I was hungry, very hungry.

And, actually, once I got over the lack of a chocolate fountain, the food wasn't at all bad. The little Reuben and grilled cheese sandwiches were the perfect size to mingle with and munch on. I found the deep fried olive appetizers a gluttonous delight, although others found them horrifying. The chicken drumsticks were perfectly cooked, moist and plenty of meat on each with a very tangy dipping sauce. he pizza was nothing special and the mini-hamburgers were dry, but sticking with the sandwiches and the Caesar salad, I did alright.

The restaurant, with just a few medium-sized rooms, was a bit overcrowded. More importantly, other than the film's star (a now blonde Rachel McAdams), the Gardens seemed to be celebrity-free. Near the VIP tables, four guys who looked like the least threatening punks in history, and whom I imagine were a band, pressed through the crowd and drew some excited giggles. One young woman told them she loved their REM cover. I am going to guess they were Good Charlotte if that band still exists.

Dessert followed a similar trajectory to the main course: initially terribly disappointing and then not so bad. The mini-chocolate cupcakes were very moist and had a nice, light icing. The lemon tarts were good. I didn't try the oatmeal cookies. A wagon outside offered hot chocolate with whipped cream and your choice of flavored syrup. I chose hazelnut and was satisfied.

In the end I left still puzzled over what the theme of this party was—what was the message the party was trying to send me? On a basic level, the party was Rachel McAdams-themed with giant stills of her providing the only decoration in the room. More interestingly, half the movie (SPOILER ALERT) is set on the ground in no place particularly interesting, so the party may have been a reference to that. But in the end, while it may not have been the night dreams are made, there was enough quality food to have put me, DreamWorks, and Hollywood itself back into the game. And in today's entertainment industry, that is really what it's all about.

• Defamer Food Review: The 'Beauty Shop' Premiere [Defamer]
• Defamer Food Review: The Closer After-Party [Defamer]

• CA: Premiere Of Charlie And The Chocolate Factory [Getty Images]
• VPage: Gobstoppers galore [Variety]

DefamerOps: war of the worlds ... first 90 minutes good/great ... ending ranks as one of the worst cinematic failures in the last 20 years.
DefamerOps: the end is truly awful. an abomination.

Perhaps Steven Spielberg should've cut that last twenty minutes, in which his hero saves the Earth by calmly and rationally convincing the alien invaders that there's no science behind the drugs that make them want to eradicate other civilizations, and then personally [Ed.note—Personally!] helps each and every one of them break their crippling dependency on their evil xenopharmaceutical industry.

• War Of The Worlds Vs. L.Ron s Bad Fiction [Defamer]

[Where do we send Leachman's ten bucks?]

[Photo: Kevin Winter: Getty Images]

• Tossing the pigskin [Variety]

The gift bag was the most insulting part of the evening. A gift bag that was described in a press release as containing "Star Wars merchandise and other special gifts" only contained the following:
1. A bag from reebok to hold the gifts
2. A light up lightsaber spoon that is found in Kellogs Cereal boxes
3. A Burger King Star Wars kid's toy
4. A single package of Star Wars fruit snacks
5. A small bag of Starbucks Coffee
6. A small tin of Starbucks mints
7. A coupon for a free whopper at Burger King
8. A discount card for 20% off at Kenneth Cole
9. A cd from an undiscovered singer
10. A bottle of marinara Sauce
11. A lipstick
12. A box of tea

Not included, but promised to attendees: A coupon enabling the bearer to one minute of grabbing George Lucas by the neck wattle and shaking the sagging flesh like a shar-pei getting out of a bubble bath. The kids really would've loved that one.

• Revenge of the Tithe: Lament over Lame Star Wars Gift Bag [BoingBoing]


• Xeni Napkinblogs The Sith, Lucas Shows Up In Newport [Defamer]

Lucasfilms guy: Bla bla proud bla Star Wars bla bla PIRACY. "Many of you have paid a lot of money to be here but your ticket price does not include an illegal copy of the movie with a video camera or your cellphone." Note to self: find out which US carrier sells cellphones so sophisticated, they can shoot cinema-quality video inside a dark movie theater. Lucasfilms guy: "We have monitors everywhere inside the theater tonight, looking for prohibited recording devices, and when I say we have monitors everywhere, I want you to remember, we are the people who invented the Evil Empire." Dude. Way to kill the love.

OK, now we're going to cut to the real reason we're posting about this: Did anyone else see George Lucas on The OC last night? What's up with that gigantic neck-wattle that keeps his enormous head afloat? We had to stop watching in the middle of his big scene, terrified that he was going to stuff Seth Cohen into his maw in a chilling recreation of that scene from Jedi where Jabba the Hutt gobbles that little insect-creature. Gah, we hope Seth escaped undigested and made it to the prom!

• Liveblogging LA Star Wars III Premiere with napkincam [Boing Boing]

I appreciate the fact that this film tries a new spin on the remake formula, but I found this force majeure pretty hard to swallow. The premise is weird and self-aware, while the rest of the movie is formulaic romantic comedy. Characters from the original “Bewitched” make cameo appearances, which makes no sense because in the world of the movie, the old TV show is fictional. Frankly, the story would have been more satisfying and believable if they had just stuck to a conventional remake. That is, unless they hired Charlie Kaufman to write the script, which is clearly not the case. The concept feels contrived, and it spoiled my fun. It’s like telling the punch line before the joke. It may still be funny, but it’s just not the same.

Sure, all of the effects and music aren't done, and there are probably last-minute cuts to be made, but these sound like the kinds of problems that pile up after the studio hires fifteen uncredited screenwriters to gangbang a script to the point where one can comfortably drive a truck through its asshole. Eh, they'll stich up the abused orifice in editing in time for summer, right?

• Bewitched [Freeze Dried Movies.com]
• Related: Nora Ephron Remakes Kidman In Ryan's Image

Saw a screening of the new Adam Sandler movie The Longest Yard. Courteney Cox is in the beginning and more then a couple people gasped at the size of her breasts when she was on screen. Wonder if that will make it to final cut once it's released. Coco must be having a gay 'ole time sucking on those babies.

Unsettling breastfeeding images aside, if Yard opens strongly on the power of this gasp-inducing mammary display, we may see a rash of hastily tacked-on scenes featuring this kind of celebrity-rack stuntcasting all summer long. Studio marketing departments, the gauntlet is thrown: How are you going to squeeze Pamela Anderson's breasts into the opening sequence of Batman Begins?

• Previously: Defamer Preview: Lindsay Lohan’s Too Big For Disney [Defamer]

What exactly is Ellen Barkin on? I went to the Palindromes preview screening at the ArcLight last night. Todd Solondz was scheduled to give a Q&A but lucky for the sold out crowd we were also given an audience with Ellen Barkin. During the Q&A Ellen’s rambling and spacey answers to the simplest questions were so long winded that even Solondz spent a good deal of the time with his hands literally covering his face.

I have heard some people go on and on during these, but this was a new level. The Q&A lasted for over forty minutes and with Ellen’s endless confused answers to the simplest question only four questions were asked during the entire time. A questions about what it was like working with Solondz was answered with a 15 minute rambling description of the entire feature production process, complaining that she hasn’t worked in 5 years, and telling the audience that if her 12 year old daughter got pregnant she wouldn’t hesitate to immediately get her an abortion (“I would know what to do.”) And that was in the first 5 minutes. Yikes!

When the Q&A was over there was an announcement made asking the audience (including Leonard Maltin, Mike White, etc) to please stay in our seats until Solondz and Barkin had exited the auditorium? What the hell? Isn't this sort of thing reserved for Dick Cheney’s appearances? Apparently Hollywood is so security crazy these days even indie film directors and over-the-hill spaced-out actresses are worthy of Secret Service-like security measures. Even after they had left the auditorium, security guards wearing badges refused to let the grumbling industry crowd leave for several minutes, until they were assured over their walkie talkies that Barkin and Solondz had indeed left the building. What is the world coming to?

Just rolled in from THE PACIFIER premiere. It's only 11 pm so that tells you something right there about the premiere party. Cannot say I saw even ONE celebrity (Vin was noticeably MIA*), except for the older male child in the movie. He was hot in a sexually confused, prepubescent way.

Since there were children there, my companions and I were worried there would be no alcohol. Rumor has it that the FREAKY FRIDAY premiere (also Disney, but also at night) was DRY. I praised Jesus when I bypassed the milkshake bar once I spotted the beer-and-wine for adults!

There was a bouncy castle which I was desperate to try out but I was over the height/weight/age limit. By a lot. The was also a "kids' buffet" featuring truly bad for you crap like peanut butter and fluffernutter sandwiches. The word "fluffer" in any context seems inappropriate when children are around, don't you think? And let me tell you, the rug rats were everywhere!

Let's see. I chatted with an agent, some studio execs, and the bus boy. When I couldn't even catch a buzz, I grabbed a pacifier-shaped frosted shortbread cookie and headed home...alone...

[*Well, Diesel showed up for some photo ops, where Gary the Duck got equal "billing." We kill us!]

Attended the "Master Storytellers" BACK TO THE FUTURE 20th anniversary screening and Q&A at the Arclight last night. Advertised Zemeckis was a no-show (one of my companions figuring he got hung up in prep for POLAR EXPRESS 2), but Bob Gale was there, Christopher Lloyd (looking younger than he does in the movie - 20 years ago!), "Biff" (the only one who was engaging and funny during the Q&A), Lea Thompson (skinny, with glasses), the editor (really, who invited this guy? Who cares? You cut the film. Whoopdeedo!) and...the "original Jennifer."

Yes, the girl who plays Michael J. Fox's 1985 girlfriend who probably worked on BTTF an entire 2 weeks. She now looks like a soccer mom with a mullet, but it turns out that she owns some sort of men's resale store in Sherman Oaks. My boyfriend is obsessed with going there to shop. So the moronic moderator asked each participant, how did BTTF change your careers? The run of the mill answers ("Caroline and the City", blah, blah). Finally, they get to "Jennifer." She says, well, the movie kinda didn't change her life because before they started filming the sequel her mom was diagnosed with cancer and she had to drop out. She then went on about how she ended up taking a "break" from acting (i.e., never worked again). It was horribly uncomfortable. It was so silent in the theater that you could hear a pin drop. Thank God "Biff" took over and did Crispin Glover impersonations to break the tension. We quietly slipped out and ran to the ArcLight bar for a numbing/soothing alcoholic libation. Why don't all movie theaters offer cocktails?

Note to future Q & A participants: When the moderator asks you how your involvement in a blockbuster (no matter how small your memorable role) changed your life, go with the "I get recognized at the Starbucks all the time!" story instead of the one about how your mother died.