• Tom Colicchio Defends Hosea. After fans starting throwing fits that final cheftestant Hosea Rosenberg was selected "Top Chef" winner Wednesday night, head judge and Craft chef Tom Colicchio issued a statement to People magazine, saying he'd "If I had to do it all over again... I'd still say Hosea wins."  Apparently there is no getting around that Stefan made a subpar dessert and Carla didn't follow her gut.  Still, with Richard Blais and no alligator, you'd better win. [People]

• The Most Beautiful Couple Ever Tie the Knot.  Tom Brady and Gisele Bundchen are married.  The pair wed in a small, private ceremony last night in a Santa Monica, Calif. church near the beach after a month-long engagement.  Brady's son with Bridget Moynahan -- John Edward Thomas -- was there; it is the first marriage for Brady and Bundchen. [People]

• 'Watchmen' Getting Tepid Reviews.  The movie's tagged as being loyal to the original graphic novel series, but beyond a killer opening weekend, is not projected to make any major conversions outside of its core fan base.  As is the case with a lot of comicbook, graphic novel or other art-to-film adaptations, "Watchmen" apparently toes the line between faithful and campy -- see the full Variety review here.
  

It could be just another Facebook vacation-photo album: a bunch of 20-something guys draped over a few beach chairs, knocking back some fruity-looking drinks and clowning for the camera. The captions could read "Spring Break '09." Instead, some of the photos could carry price tags with strings of zeros.

This isn't a posse of frat brothers: they're the Beatles and the Rolling Stones, horsing around on vacation, on tour and backstage, as seen in a recently discovered cache of 3,500 photos, 48 of which will be shown starting March 4 at the Not Fade Away gallery in New York's Chelsea. The rare, extremely valuable find comes from the personal collection of the late Bob Bonis, a small-time talent agent who got lucky and landed gigs managing the stateside tours of the two bands from 1964 to 1966. The trust and confidence he earned from the bands is immediately evident from the snapshots, in which Mick Jagger drops his slim trousers and John Lennon grimaces comically at the lens. "[T]he word iconic can get overused, but that's a great description of these," says Beatles expert and former music journalist Steve Marinucci. "Rare Beatle photos show up all the time, but not usually in this quality."

The pics surfaced a year ago when Bob's son Alex lugged a duffel bag full of his father's memorabilia in to music appraiser Larry Marion, and in passing showed him a three-ring binder of contact sheets. When Alex casually said he had more where that came from, Marion was shocked: the oversized shoebox that Alex later brought in contained thousands of negatives, most in pristine condition in their glassine envelopes; the majority of the shots had never been used to make prints. "[My father] never bragged about it—I wasn't raised with 'Do you know who I am?' and all that stuff," says Alex. "I mean, he went to all my baseball games."

After a few prints from the photo stash—plus the memorabilia—did well at auction last spring, the pair decided to put the rest on display, and Marion founded Not Fade Away to house them. "We've all seen them posing millions of times," Marion says. "Sometimes it's nice to see them just give the finger with a drink in their hand." Cheers, mate.

 Click here to see some of the lost Stones and Beatles photos!

• Jerry Returns to Referee on NBC.  Jerry Seinfeld to come back to NBC -- but not for a "Seinfeld" redux.  Or a "Bees" commercial.  This time, it's for a reality show that he will produce and guest appear on.  Called "The Marriage Ref," the show is Seinfeld's brainchild: people whine about their marriage problems on air, and then celebrities tell them what they think.  Isn't that called "Dr. Phil?" [Variety]

• Robin Hood, the Older Years. Cate Blanchett will play Maid Marian in the new Robin Hood remake starring Russell Crowe and directed by Ridley Scott.  (Sienna Miller was originally attached but exited).  Universal says they are hewing very close to original historical facts of the day -- making this a "Gladiatification" of the children's tale in more ways than one -- but, we have to say it: wasn't Robin Hood in his late teens?  And Maid Marian, like, 14?  Is this really the "Golden Girls"ification of Robin Hood? Because it kind of sounds like it. [Variety]

• Today in Predatory Business Exploits.  TMZ is now reporting that a porn company is offering $1 million to the new Octomom, Nadya Suleman -- in addition to medical and dental insurance for the entire family -- if she agrees to do some videos for them.  Wow.  Trying to entice an unemployed mother on food stamps who's living with her parents in a soon-to-be-foreclosed 3-bedroom house to sign a porn contract that will compensate her in insurance... that's pretty low.  Will she do it? [New York Daily News]
  

Turning to big name outsiders is often the last refuge of the desperate show. In the case of NBC's "30 Rock," though, might it make perfect sense? Our Joshua Alston and Sarah Ball discuss:

Joshua Alston

It makes perfect sense that "30 Rock" would bring in a cavalcade of guest stars. After all, its an expensive show that is critically ballyhooed but woefully underwatched. In the same way that Tina Fey and her team have written Snapple and SoyJoy into their universe in an effort to defray production costs, they've been equally willing to bring in any guest star that might attract a few extra eyeballs. And when you have cachet that "30 Rock" has amassed, and the power to ask for and get just about any guest star you want, why not act like its sweeps month all year round? In theory, I get it.

In practice, though, it has led to an uneven season of the show for two reasons. First, an overreliance on guest stars polarizes the audience. Instead of talking about the show's whip-smart dialogue or absurd visual gags, the conversation shifts to how the guest star du jour is performing, and no one ever agrees. I loved Steve Martin's appearance, others hated it. I thought Jennifer Aniston was a distracting bore when she showed up, but I know people who swear she was fantastic. My dear colleague Sarah loves Salma Hayek's role, while I could take her or leave her. The prevalence of such debates in my discussion of the show with friends suggests that the guest stars have a little more power in shaping the perception of the show than they should have.

Having high-profile guest stars makes it impossible for "30 Rock" to serve its underworked regular ensemble, a problem the show has had since before it started bringing in so many guests. Does anyone remember a character named Pete Hornberger? He was played by Scott Adsit? Balding guy? Sometimes I feel like I made him up, considering how little I see him anymore. Even Jenna Maroney (Jane Krakowski) and Tracy Jordan (Tracy Morgan) have ridden the bench more than they should, and when they are utilized, its often in hit-or-miss B-stories.

Its not just that guest stars absorb screen time, its that they have to be integrated in some logical way, which seems to always be a new love interest for Liz Lemon (Fey) or her boss Jack Donaghy (Alec Baldwin.) Granted, Liz and Jack's delicate relationship is the nexus of the show, but because of all the guest stars, there's too much attention on their personal lives rather than their professional ones. "30 Rock" used to be a workplace comedy, one different than what we've seen before because of its setting, and it's hard to believe they've burned out all their work-related stories, the ones that find logical uses for the people actually in the show's cast.

At the very least, "30 Rock" should consider bringing guests in a way that connects different people, like Morgan or Krakowski, to the action. Near the end of "Gavin Volure," the episode dominated by Steve Martin, Tracy says to Liz "Everything worked out with Jenna's dad visiting." "What?" Liz replies, confused. "Oh," says Tracy, winking at the audience about Krakowski's complete absence that week, "you weren't really around for any of that." Next time, could the rest of us be around for it?

Sarah Ball 



Hate on the guest stars if you want, but Salma Hayek has single-handedly, double-breastedly restored the wonderfully kooky rhythm of “30 Rock.”

I’m so attached to her brilliant and reliably fantastic guest appearance as Alec Baldwin’s Puerto Rican nurse of a love interest that I’m already stocking up on Häagen-Dazs and Dewar’s for when she leaves. And I'm not alone: the Valentine's Day episode starring Hayek had a 20 percent bounce in viewers, overall and in the demo, taking it to 7.6 million.  

I’ll cede that it’s a bit slippery to say a guest appearance has served to undo damage done by, er, other guest appearances.  But here's where Joshua and I agree: that early-season slew of one-off, ill-conceived roles for big, aud-drawing names nearly drove a stake through the feeble show’s heart.  Oprah! Steve Martin! Jennifer Aniston!  Deeply, deeply average showings, all of them, and Aniston’s was just bizarre. Thank God for Sarah Palin and the awards season, in that order, or we’d be writing about “30 Rock” in the past tense.

But "30 Rock" has always been more variety hour than bonafide situational comedy--it's a show about a show where mega-stars share a stage with screwballs.  So to write off all the celebrity drop-ins makes little sense -- they're part of the show's fabric. And Hayek's Elisa is really great. She's more believable and engaging than any of Jack’s prior love interests—less absurdist by a mile than the skeletally-challenged Phoebe (Emily Mortimer)—and sexist Jack is just better with a gal to condescend to.  And she brings a whole new dimension to the show’s famously pitch-perfect racial satire.  The white-black jokes were getting a little tired—lest we forget, Jane Krakowski appeared in black face and a plastic 'fro singing “Ease On Down the Road” this very season.  That’s scraping the bottom of the barrel if we’ve ever seen it.  But Hayek as Baldwin’s mate begets all kinds of hilarious new jinks, the primary target being (of course) Baldwin.  His character existed to blast stuff white people like long before the blog, but the old-white-man buffoonery (“I held a baby with earrings,” "[The dessert] is covered in shaved black, white and clear truffles") is at a new peak.  May it never end as long as we can enjoy exchanges like this one:

Jack: Elisa and I have enough obstacles--our work schedules, our cultures, her adorably broken English.
Elisa: MetroCards are a real thing, Jack. You use them on the subway.

• 'Green Hornet' Gets a Helmer. So now that Seth Rogen has lost approximately a bajillion pounds for his upcoming foray into superhero movies, "The Green Hornet," Columbia has decided to hitch a director to the project.  And it's an interesting choice -- Michel Gondry, of "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" and "Be Kind, Rewind," will be jumping for the first time into the blatantly commercial end of the pool.  Rogen and childhood pal Evan Goldberg, the pair of brains behind "Superbad," are writing and producing.  If all this sounds like a mess of strange bedfellows, well, it is. [Variety]

• YSL Auction Sets Records in Paris.  What recession? The Christie's haul for the Yves Saint Laurent auction -- a three-day extravaganza in which 733 of the famed designer's antiques, art and objets are under the hammer -- has already exceeded the house's expectations with one day left to go.  $382 million has been collected so far, and several pieces have set records. A portion of the proceeds will go to AIDS research. [Associated Press]

• Big Tumble at 'Kung-Fu' HQ.  Jack Black's crack about Pixar > Dreamworks at the Oscars was prescient: the animation studio announced yesterday that its net income was down 45 percent last quarter. Jeffrey Katzenburg and the rest of the execs are pinning hopes to March 27's "Monsters vs. Aliens," the studio's first 3D release, to help rebound.  Despite the issues, the CFO of the company says this year is "the most successful non-Shrek year in our history."  Shrek remakes for eternity?? [Variety]
  

By Tony Dokoupil

Remember the DABA Girls? Late last month the Web buzzed about their blog, Dating a Banker Anonymous, which bills itself as a place for Wall Street women to vent about how the financial crisis has killed their love lives. (”If your monthly Bergdorf’s allowance has been halved and bottle service has all but disappeared from your life,” this is your site, the homepage cheers.) Populist outrage followed the publication of a credulous profile in the New York Times, and was furthered with the news last week that the DABA girls have signed with big name agencies in Hollywood and New York publishing—United Talent and Janklow Nesbit, respectively. This has, of course, renewed rumors of a book, a movie and maybe even a TV series based on the blog. But even after a full turn of the media world — NPR has raised doubts about the site’s authenticity and the New York Times was forced to defend its story— the question remains: are these girls for real?

No, not really, as Newsweek found out in a recent interview. Sitting in a West Village coffee shop near her apartment, cofounder Laney Crowell, clad in jeans, snow boots and black pullover, says that what the Times described as a “support group” of about 30 women is actually a full-blown parody — and it’s at least partly fictionalized. There is no real support community, no regular meetings and the blog is written by Crowell and her lawyer sidekick Megan Petrus, who concoct entries out of a mixture of their own experiences, stories of people who email the site, and anecdotes of girls they meet socially. They don’t fact check the emails, or the gossip, and the posts are embellished and exaggerated for added laughs. At times, details are plucked from thin air to give the stories a satirical edge.
 
“That isn’t my life,” says Crowell of her snotty, gold-digging online “character.” The 27-year-old fameball doesn’t personally know anyone with a boyfriend-backed credit card or a slashed Bergdorf Goodman allowance. And despite DABA posts that imply otherwise, she says her own market-depressed relationship with a corporate real estate investor ran more toward Netflix at home than no-limit nights on the town. Asked by a Newsweek photographer about the best Wall Street bars to shoot in, she couldn’t name a single one—although maybe she’ll discover them now. Last month, Crowell was canned from the online fashion channel StyleCaster because DABA-fever had become a distraction. “At this time it was deemed best for Laney to pursue her opportunity while we bring on new talent that can focus all of their time and energy” on their work, read the company statement.

So did the Times get punk’d? Perhaps in the sense that they built a story around a pseudo support group, and quoted blog entries from “members” who may not even be real. After all, can you really trust stories emailed in from the ether? As for DABA’s meetings: “I go to brunch with my friends and talk about guys and dating,” Crowell says. “Is it a support group that people can come to randomly? It’s not at all.” She declined to discuss specific posts, but says that the blog has always had a note on the homepage: “Warning: All stories sent will be infused with our own special brand of DABA Girl humor.” After the Times story, she added a “Terms and Conditions” page that reads in part: users grant the DABA Website the “right and license to use, reproduce, modify, adapt, publish, translate [or] create derivative works from” any information provided. Sounds a lot like legalese—but also creative license.

In response to inquiries by Newsweek, the Times plans to issue an Editor’s Note, indicating that it was misled about the nature of DABA, and should not have referred to it as a support group. A draft of the note sent to Newsweek also says that Crowell did not originally tell the Times that her blog “is a satire that embellishes true experiences for effect.” Crowell, for her part, denies snookering people intentionally as part of a publicity stunt. “It was a misunderstanding that there is a formal “group” and that there are actual “meetings,” she wrote in an email to Newsweek. She says the site is rooted in emotional truth--the real pain of once-pampered Wall Street wives and girlfriends--and that she and cofounder Petrus were prompted to launch the blog after the recession hit their own love lives. Their agency, Janklow Nesbit, says that’s enough to base a book on. “It’s a humor book. That’s the category it would be,” says agent Rebecca Gradinger. “But they are poking fun at themselves a little bit. It’s a character, but it’s a little bit of them as well.” Yes, only it is much less of them than you might have thought.

Get kicked off the PCD reality show?  Just looking for your big break?

Yours for three easy payments of absolutely nothing: a chance to appear on "The District!"  We're looking for some young, fun, up-and-coming bands to provide us with soundtrack for our hit satire of "The City" -- the angstier and more melodramatically melodic, the better.  Pop, rock and hip-hop artists of all stripes welcome to submit; just send music files to TheDistrictNW@gmail.com for consideration and a chance to be featured on an upcoming episode.  Good luck!

In the meantime, if you haven't had a chance to check out episode four -- in which Barack phones for back-up for a tough week of overseas elbow-rubbing -- watch it here

• Freida Pinto Replaces Scarlett Johansson.  The gorgeous female star of "Slumdog Millionaire" will star as the young, impressionable ingenue in Woody Allen's latest film -- Scarlett, you have been auf'd.  She has signed onto the untitled project after Josh Brolin, Anthony Hopkins and Naomi Watts.  [Variety]

• All Jackman-ed Up?  After last year's ratings were the worst in Oscar history, the telecast improved to 36.3 million viewers over the first three hours in 2009.  Both ABC and Nielsen aren't counting the last 35 minutes -- from 11:25 on -- as part of the telecast, which is kind of weird since that's when Sean Penn, Kate Winslet and "Slumdog" walked with their statues.  Either way, the draw is better than the last two "American Idol" season openers, so the suits are happy. [Washington Post]

• How the Mighty Have Fallen.  A moment of silence for John Cusack, who has just signed on to do a hot tub movie -- sorry, a hot tub movie that is actually a time machine movie, since said tub transports its users back to 1987 -- with Clark Duke ("GREEK," "Sex Drive") and Craig Robinson ("Knocked Up").  The title of the movie is, yes, "Hot Tub Time Machine." 1987 was probably the last time John Cusack made a movie he was proud of, and was around the time Clark Duke was born, so maybe it works out for everyone. [Variety]
  

All Barack's new friends are totally flaking out. So he finds time to smooth things over with someone who's always been there for -- or against -- him. That's right: Hillary is back in the spotlight, y'all.  She and a Samsonite full of pantsuits make their way overseas to pageant-wave and make nice with world leaders.  Sometimes it's good to leave Washington "Drama Central" D.C. behind, as Barack finds when he also leaves the city -- for Canada.  Tune in!

• Slumdog is the Big Winner (No Surprise).  Taking Best Picture, Best Director, Best Adapted Screenplay and plenty of others (including all the sound and music awards), "Slumdog" was the big winner of the night with eight statues.  The cast and crew, meanwhile, couldn't have looked more thrilled -- every win elicited huge cheers from their corner of the Kodak.  And Danny Boyle's humble, gracious speech was among the night's better ones. [The Los Angeles Times]
  

• Amanda Seyfried's Shoe Malfunction? Want the scoop on how the stars behaved backstage -- who needed extra powdering, who whispered sweet nothings into a singer's ear, and who thought they blew it in their acceptance speech?  The AP's Sandy Cohen has a great little roundup of the night's anecdotes from his vantage point, here. [AP]

• (Mostly) Everyone Looked Nice -- for Once.  The dresses were largely beautiful and regal at last night's event -- either daring and classic Hollywood in red, or opulent and prima-ballerina styled in off-white.  But who wore the really bad stuff?  Check out our Us Weekly feed for updates!
  

Was it just me, or were the Oscars like the longest episode of "American Idol" ever? First, Ryan Seacrest interviewed all the contestants—oops, make that nominees—on the red carpet. Then, the stage was suspiciously similar to the circular "Idol" platform, and the live show began with a musical number from host Hugh Jackman. The first winner was announced by a panel, though unfortunately Paula Abdul wasn't on it. And at some point in the evening, Jackman appeared with Beyonce, Zac Efron and Vanessa Hudgens to cover a strange assortment of Broadway tunes.

That latter number was awfully schizophrenic, and it only made sense when we learned that it was directed by the king of excess himself, Baz Luhrmann. The flashy, uneven choreography summed up the entire evening. This year was the Academy's biggest push to make the Oscars young and more relevant. Too bad they failed, even worse than when they tapped Jon Stewart as host. Throughout the telecast, my BlackBerry buzzed with messages from friends, all in their 20s, about how un-hip and un-young and unwatchable the Oscars felt.

It's not the Academy's fault the show was so predictable—nothing could stop "Slumdog Millionaire"'s unstoppable march to victory. At the same time, what the heck was going on onstage? It felt as though MTV executives tried to hatch a new Oscars, with two strange parents: the old Oscars and the Tonys. Needless to say, the result was a weird-looking baby.

Without further ado, let's get rid of the envelopes, please. Here are the eight strangest moments of the strangest Oscars of all time.

• Photo of Rihanna Leaked.  It is the policy of the LAPD to keep alleged victims of domestic violence anonymous -- so when celebrity site TMZ posted a photograph of a visibly battered Rihanna -- with contusions on her head and swollen markings -- the department immediately launched an internal investigation.  See the photo here.  [TMZ]

• Conan De-Pledges the Big Apple.  Bye, Conan -- we'll miss you in NYC.  But an interesting story in the Daily News about whether O'Brien's frenetic, "fratty" humor will jar the old folks who watch "The Tonight Show."  Or, as David Hinckley puts it, "'Tonight' has always known that when you're going to bed, you want a glass of warm milk, not a slug of Jolt Cola."  [Daily News]

• Washington Post 1, "Fired Up" 0.  Disproportionately angry movie reviews -- the totally condescending, deliciously intelligent ones, where you can feel the gritted teeth -- are one of life's great pleasures. This slam-dunk of a snippet says reviewer Jan Stuart means WAR, baby: "'Fired Up' is the debut writing effort of one Freedom Jones, who is shackled by an oppressive penchant for snark and a film student's glib tendency to reference older and infinitely better movies.... Will Gluck directs with frantic, go-for-broke pacing, which is what you do when your reserves of wit are bankrupt."  Ahhh, love it.  Just wonder if Stuart takes issue with her own penchant -- demonstrated throughout -- for snark and referencing older, infinitely better movies. [Washington Post]
  

Photo, Hector Mata/AFP-Getty Images. 

Am I alone in finding the annual self-indulgent, self-congratulatory spectacle that is the Academy Awards simultaneously repellent and unmissable? When I settle into my wingback chair with a snifter of brandy at around the crack of dawn on Oscar Sunday for the red carpet pre-pre-pre-pre-show, watching F-list Hollywood Pretty People foam at the mouth as they express inhuman delight about dress styles I couldn't tell apart with a pattern book, am I the only one measuring the length of my nose as I look down it upon the idiots who might find this kind of programming edifying?

Can we agree that it takes true, steely-eyed grit to endure Cuba Gooding Jr. leaping about like a hyperactive child after six bowls of Cocoa Puffs or Antonio Banderas practically spraying the audience with emotion while crooning a song from "The Motorcycle Diaries"?

Photo, Mark Mainz/AP for Fox.

The great thing about "American Idol" is that it always represents, you know, America. And there's one thing that all Americans are worried about: cutbacks. So isn't it time that the show cutback as well? Don't worry--I'm not suggesting that we send Ryan Seacrest to Wal-Mart for a new wardrobe. But maybe it's time that the judges face some judgment. With the addition of Kara DioGuardi, there are now four of them at the "Idol" table, which is silly, because it's always been a three person job. So tell us America, which American Idol judge would you layoff?

Kara is the newcomer, with most likely the smallest salary, so we probably shouldn't get rid of her. Plus, she's been surprisingly effective at pulling her weight on the show--even if she's svelte. She's funny and bitchy and dresses like Anne Hathaway after a "Devil Wears Prada" makeover.

Simon is the reason the show succeeds, so you can't get rid of him, no matter how much he acts like a pain in the ass. And Paula Abdul earns her paycheck, for the simple reason that you can't help but watch every time she's on screen, to see if she'll finish her sentence or topple over into her Coke cup on live TV.

So that leaves us with Randy Jackson. In the last few seasons, his comments have been, well, pitchy. Remember how many times he reminded us Jordin Sparks was only 16? And with Kara's addition to the show, Randy's even less necessary. Do you honestly remember anything he said from this week's episodes? This is shaping up to be a damn good "Idol" season--the singers really can sing, even the annoying one, Tatiana del Toro--but the first live telecasts  went over by a few minutes, because the judges comments were so long. We hate to do this to you, dawg. But in the words of Chris Daughtry, you're going home.

• Facebook Founding Fathers Pen... Bill of Rights?  An interesting essay today from Washington Post tech columnist Rob Pegoraro about Facebook's ongoing terms-of-service debacle -- he suggests Wikipedia-style group editing to come to a legalese-free set of terms.  The column, here.

• Oscars After-Parties Glittering Less Brightly.  Just like Sundance and the Globes before it, the parties following and surrounding the Oscars this weekend will be subdued, thanks to the economy.  At least one event is canning the giftbags, and Vanity Fair is scaling back its invite list "considerably." Meanwhile, Madonna and her manager will host a party in Hollywood Hills -- and their version of scaling back is to explicitly ban "hangers on." Don't need to tell us twice. [Variety]

• White Knots Meet Red Carpet.  And another non-ceremony change to be expected on Feb. 22: the addition of white ribbons, which will signify marriage equality and are expected to be affixed to at least a few stars, including Anne Hathaway and at least some of the "Milk" cast.  The ribbons are an effort by marriage equality groups to increase awareness before March 5, when the California Supreme Court will start to hear oral arguments for overturning Prop 8. [Variety]
  

Photo, Fernanda Calfat/Getty Images.

We're nearly halfway through New York's Mercedes Benz Fashion Week. And so far, the most constant theme is the fashion world's continual obsession with Michelle Obama. Questions abound: Will she show up? (No.) But is that the White House social secretary sitting next to Vogue's Anna Wintour? (Yes.) Which of these dresses might the first lady wear? (Probably few.) And which colorful sheaths were directly inspired by her? (Unclear, but it's safe to say several.)

The claim is that Mrs. Obama has changed the fashion world with her carefully choreographed wardrobe choices, and it doesn't just translate to the clothes. Already this week, journalists have speculated whether the ethnic makeup of models on the runway might shift from favoring Caucasians to include more black models in an attempt to reflect America's newest fashion icon. In the New York Times, Guy Trebay wrote, "Already there are signs that the recent industry habits of exclusion may be undergoing a shift," citing an increase in the number of black men and women getting work in fashion in New York City. Over at New York Magazine, James Lim lauded Jason Wu's choice of a black model to open his show: "Does this mean the days of whitewashed runways are behind us?" he asks.

The answer to that question: absolutely not. Not to be a downer in these exciting times, but if anything, Michelle Obama has merely drawn attention to the current crop of black models, while designers don't appear to have done anything to change their casting preferences. The shows this year still look overwhelmingly, almost unbelievably, white. Impressions can be deceiving, so in a quest for hard, empirical evidence, we visited Style.com and perused the site's slideshows of runway shows from Spring/Summer Fashion Week last September to figure out the differences in the number of black models between then and now when it comes to both America's most well-known designers and our first lady's personal favorites. Here's a look:

[CLICK MORE TO READ FULL POST]

• Hayek Says 'Oui' in Paris.  Salma Hayek got married in a secret ceremony -- but that's not a plot twist in her "30 Rock" cameo.  The 42-year-old actress married her longtime beau and French billionaire Francois-Henri Pinault on Valentine's Day at a small, intimate ceremony in Paris.  The pair have a child together and have been dating on-and-off for three years.  We hope the honeymoon won't disrupt her filming -- she's brilliant on the show. [People]
  

• Rihanna Torn Over Brown Testimony?  Rihanna still loves Chris Brown, a nameless "friend" of the singer tells Us Weekly, despite her the fact that "her eye's black and the sides of her face are all f----d up.... she keeps saying she still loves him." Meanwhile, Brown finally released a statement saying that he is seeing "a pastor" to become a "better person."  [Us Weekly via Daily News; People]

• A Heroic Split? "Heroes" stars Milo Ventimiglia (31) and Hayden Panetierre (19) have reportedly split due to "lifestyle" differences.  Maybe the 12 years between them constitutes a lifestyle difference?  Us then reportedly spotted Panettiereastride the lap of Jesse McCartney, the 21-year-old pop singer.  Love is in the air. [ Chicago Tribune with Us reporting]
  

Photos, courtesy of Sony Classics (left); Paramount Vantage

Each year, scattered among the Jack Nicholsons, Meryl Streeps and Sean Penns on the list of Academy Award nominees are a few lesser-known actors, names that make the average moviegoer sit up in befuddlement and ask "Who?" This time around, joining superstars such as Heath Ledger and Angelina Jolie in the running for Oscar statuettes are Michael Shannon (who has had roles in "8 Mile," "Vanilla Sky" and "Pearl Harbor") and indie standby Melissa Leo (whom you might recognize from TV series "Homicide: Life on the Street," bit parts in "21 Grams" and "Mr. Woodcock," and a host of independent films). NEWSWEEK's Nicki Gostin sat down with each of the formerly unknown actors to find out whether they think they'll win, how the nominations have helped their careers and what they're doing to prepare for the big night.

[CLICK MORE>> TO READ FULL INTERVIEW] 

Legendary fashion designer Valentino Garavani is the subject of an upcoming documentary called "Valentino: The Last Emperor," which lovingly captures the intense relationship he shares with his ex-boyfriend and longtime business partner, Giancarlo Giammetti. The film also reveals the glamorous lifestyle of the Italian designer, who has homes in Rome, New York City, London, Gstaad and a 152-foot yacht that employs a full-time staff of 11. He spoke with NEWSWEEK's Nicki Gostin about his retirement from the world of high fashion, his beloved half-dozen pugs and the challenges of designing an Oscar gown for actresses like Julia Roberts and Cate Blanchett. (Wanna see Valentino's take on red-carpet dresses of years past, both gowns of his creation and ones made by other designers? Click here!)

[CLICK MORE>> TO READ FULL INTERVIEW] 

Continuing our video series -- see last week's chat with Chris Evans from "Push," if you haven't already -- we've got former American Idol finalist Melinda Doolittle this week, who spills seven things we don't know about her.  Simulated elliptical dancing -- to Flo Rida's "Low," no less -- may or may not be included.  Click to find out!

• Is Chris Brown Done?  You Decide. Further silence from singer Chris Brown's camp after he was charged with making criminal threats (allegedly against his girlfriend Rihanna) has tabloids and industry press assuming the worst about the star's future career.  An unnamed industry source told People that since "a lot of his fans are female," that the impact on his soaring popularity could be devastating.  Wrigley has already temporarily canned his spokesmanship for Doublemint, and Brown has canceled all appearances in the near future. [People]

• NAACP Image Awards: "Bees" Has Big Buzz. "Secret Life of Bees," Russell Simmons and Muhammed Ali were among those honored at the NAACP Image Awards last night.  Jennifer Hudson returned to the mike to serenade Ali, and Will Smith and Rosario Dawson nabbed best actor and best actress awards for their roles in "Seven Pounds."  Full list of winner at the link.  [Variety]

• Video Game, Concert Attendance Are... Up? Maybe hitched to the Wii Fit and fitness-oriented resolutions, video game industry profits were up 13 percent in the month of January.  Meanwhile, Live Nation has announced that it's beating Wall Street's projections and is already ahead of last year's position on summer concert sales.  The concert promotion company has been in the news of late for its hopes to buy Ticketmaster, sparking an anti-trust debate.  [Variety; Reuters]
  

Photo, courtesy of Fox.

By the third episode of "United States of Tara," Showtime's new dissociative-identity-disorder dramedy, things are going relatively well for the title character. Granted, life isn't easy for Tara (Toni Collette) when, at a moment's notice, one of her alternate personalities (among them, a randy teenager and a "Pleasantville"-style repressed homemaker) could pop out of her. But work is looking up–she's been hired to paint a fresco for her sister's boss, Tiffany. There's a wobble when Tara discovers that her new boss knows about her disorder, but Tiffany is surprisingly accepting. "You know, the weird thing is like, I kinda feel like everybody has it. Y'know, a little bit," Tiffany says. "It's like, over the course of a day, how many women do we have to be? Work Tiffany, or Sexy Tiffany, or Dog Owner Tiffany … it's hard, right?"

It's at that moment that "Tara," reveals an alternate personality of its own. Most of the time it's a family drama, but sometimes, it's an overt statement about the roles women are expected to play in society, and how they are often at odds. "Tara" would be plenty fuel for a women's theory thesis, but tomorrow it gets a companion in the form of "Dollhouse," a new sci-fi thriller from Joss Whedon ("Buffy the Vampire Slayer").

On their faces, the shows don't look similar at all. But both are about women struggling to figure out their own identities. In "Dollhouse," Eliza Dushku plays Echo, a woman part of an illegal enterprise that can imprint different characteristics on a person, depending on a client's need. In the pilot, a man whose daughter was kidnapped needs the perfect hostage negotiator, so Echo is imprinted with those skills. At the end of each assignment, her memories of what happened are erased. She's a tabula rasa, drifting around the Dollhouse, which looks like a big-box yoga studio, engaging in childlike dialogue with the other dolls. One minute she's kicking ass, the next she's a Stepford Wife in beta test.

Both shows are girl-powered, but not necessarily Girl Power. Tara and Echo are both largely defined by the men in their lives. For Tara, it's her husband, Max, whose struggles with fidelity seem to take up far too much of her time. She doesn't want him to have sex with her alters, and with the exception of Buck, the Skoal-chewing male truck driver, they're all over him. "Dollhouse" is a bit more problematic. All of the clients in the episodes screened for critics are men, and while there are male "dolls," we have yet to see any of them in action. Echo is essentially a high-tech prostitute. Even when she's not actually bedding the clients, as she does in two of the three episodes Fox sent out, she's being imprinted with male-fantasy archetypes. In the pilot, her hostage negotiator is a coquettish schoolmarm, who insists on being called "Miss" and says things like "Talk out of turn again, and I will scold you."

But there are subtler moments. Tara breaks down when she discovers her daughter took the morning-after pill. It's not a matter of whether she's going to be the truck driver or the trampy teen, it's whether she's going to be psycho mom, progressive mom or somewhere in between. Echo, meanwhile, has a moment in each episode where she reclaims a bit of her true personality, before she was wiped clean. In those moments lie promise for both shows to speak in real struggles women face juggling multiple roles without losing sight of who they really are.

[CLICK MORE>> TO SEE THE FULL INTERVIEW]

And blurs his words.  And doesn't crack a smile, laugh, or remove his sunglasses.  The most responsive Phoenix ever becomes is when he takes his gum out of his mouth and sticks it under Dave's desk.  The must-see video of the day.

In other news:

Nicollette Sheridan is leaving "Desperate Housewives," ABC announced yesterday.  The network did not say why or when.  Sheridan's publicists would not comment. [Variety]

Folk-rocker Ryan Adams will marry Mandy Moore -- the pair are engaged, a rep confirms, after a  just under a year of dating. [People]

Just finished re-reading Devin Gordon's breathtakingly confident story from last March about why people hate Duke -- and since Today Is The Day, you should, too.  Re-read, that is.  Consult your physician before taking up the hatred part -- to hate like this can cause windbagitis. And cubicle art.

The latest outlet to try and capture all that fear, hatred and defensive tone is HBO, in a Feb. 23 sports documentary that puts the Duke-UNC rivalry in its crosshairs.  "The Battle for Tobacco Road: Duke Vs. Carolina" logs face time with the two schools' greats (Jordan, Smith, Laettner, Krzyzewski), all set to narrator Liev Schreiber's soothing intonation.  The doc doesn't get it exactly right, sez this fan -- the ultra-cheesy sax soundtrack throughout the segment on UNC's Charlie Scott made me think of how "Gossip Girl" played jazz every time a black bartender came on screen.  The one-hour film's strength is in the historical narrative and rare clips of early games: Anyone know that inter-ACC vitriol started with football?  And that N.C. State was the original Tobacco Road basketball powerhouse?  

But if you're looking for any fresh perspective beyond the vintage footage, you won't find it here.  Everyone in Chapel Hill is beautiful.  Every Cameron Crazie has acne and a cracking voice. There's a token Maryland fan, desperate to be included in the commentary.  Aaaaaand scene!
 

• Say 'Sussex Spaniel' Three Times Fast.  We were pulling for the Puli Pulik -- tee hee! -- but the sprightly spaniel from Sussex took the top prize at last night's Westminster Kennel Club Best in Show.  Of course, the most adorable thing about winner Stump isn't his name or his milk-chocolate tresses.  It's his age.  Stump is 70 in dog years, which makes him an old gray mare in the dog show world.  The AP compared it to "Michael Jordan coming back to make one more jumper, or John Elway returning to toss a final TD pass," but we find it far more apt to say it's like Shirley MacLaine winning the Miss America crown. Cheers to Stump for eradicating dog-agism! [AP via Yahoo]

• Rihanna Pulls Out of Jakarta Show for Second Time.  Pop singer Rihanna has canceled yet another tour date appearance, following her role as the alleged victim in an assault charge against her boyfriend, fellow singer Chris Brown.  She originally canned an appearance there in November during an Australian government-issued travel advisory. The 19-year-old Brown was charged with making "criminal threats" against Robyn Fenty (Rihanna's real name), and was released on $50,000 bail.  Brown is due in court on March 5.  [People]

• Leonardo DiCaprio is Kind of Insanely On Top of His Game.  Not enough that he's now notched two girlfriends who've appeared on the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition cover (current flame Bar Refaeli is on the latest, on stands now). But now DiCaprio has been personally bestowed honors -- an International Green Award, as it turns out -- by "close pal" Mikhail Gorbachev, Nobel Prize winner, as of last night.  Further proof that a start on "Growing Pains" doesn't necessarily doom you to a life of mediocrity.  [Huffington Post]
  

Get ready to geek out, America -- not only is Team Barack back for a second installment of "The District," but the first episode will also make a guest appearance on the aftershow of "The City" tonight.  That's right: the show that spawned the satire will air the satire after the show.  (Phew.)  Meanwhile, in part deux, there is trouble afoot in Washington as the gang decides to bail on Olivia's dinner party their tax returns.  Watch above!

All right, so it's not breaking news that Hollywood is making a sequel to classic '80s flick "Tron"; it's been rumored and/or in the works for several years. Web pundits were skeptical when the idea was announced—in the 21st century, can you really make a sequel to a movie that was all about a guy literally going into a computer and battling the evil "Master Control Program" without being utterly laughable?—but suspended judgment.

Until now.

It's turns out, we shouldn't have waited with our criticisms, at least if this blurry footage from ComicCon last week is to be believed (not embedded because it's a bootleg clip, so it may get yanked from YouTube; watch quickly or you might miss it). It's a lightcycle race, and it pretty much looks like the '82 original, only with fancier CGI. Oh, and there are a few seconds of a wizened Jeff Bridges—bearded, barefoot and white-pantsed like a high-tech Howard Hughes—looking dispassionately out a window at the race. (Bridges, you'll recall, starred in the original flick, and the ComicCon audience cheered loudly at his appearance.)

The problem remains: representing computer programs as good or evil human beings racing motorcycles on a literal two-lane digital superhighway (no joke; it's a literal road, down to the dotted lane divider) is inherently lame. Sorry, but it is. You can get away with it if it's, oh, 27 years ago, when computers were scaaaary and weird, but not now.

(Also? Pet peeve: naming your movie with a number instead of a letter, a la "Se7en" or "Thir13n Ghosts." Here, it's "TR2N." Note to Tinseltown—a 2 looks nothing like an O. Then again, the other rumored title, "Tron 2.0," is hardly cutting-edge. How about "Tron: The Quickening," guys?)

Our esteemed senior arts/culture edit-ainer, Marc Peyser, takes a break from fretting over our print edition to skewer Sully's critics -- Onion-style.   Or, in the immortal words of Seth Meyers: "Really, PETA?!"

People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals announced today that it is suing hero pilot Chelsey “Sully” Sullenberger for the murder of 17 birds fatally injured in the crash of U.S. Airways Flight 1549 last month.

“For this man to be hailed as a so-called hero is an abomination,” said PETA spokesman Jan Mathers. “Do you think Kate Couric would be fawning all over Sullengerger if he'd sucked 17 Golden Retriever puppies into the engines of his precious airplane?”

Sullenberger has been cheered around the world for landing the Airbus A320 on the Hudson River, thus saving the lives of all 155 people onboard, including the co-pilot and a male flight attendant, who were both locked in the business class bathroom at the time of the incident.

But Mathers says that Sullenberger should be arrested immediately for failing to avoid the two flocks of birds that he hit. (FAA officials announced last week that they had found the mutilated remains of several Canadian geese in the port engine and the beaks of “at least four” Staten Island pigeons embedded in the turbine on the starboard engine.)

“We have proof that Sullenberger deliberately hit those poor birds,” Mathers said. “If you listen closely to the cockpit-voice recorder, you will hear his whispering, “’Hot damn--after 28 years I’m finally going to get to go down one of those bitchin’ evacuation slides!”

Sullenberger was attending the Grammy Awards and various Oscar lunches and could not be reached for comment. But his Beverly Hills spokesman, Tiffany Amber, vehemently denied that her client had sabotaged his own flight, though she did confirm that Sullenberger has a history of erratic takeoff patterns from all three New York area airports. “Ever since he was dive-bombed by a flock of pigeons in Central Park in 1997, Sully has vowed to mow down as many of those rats with wings as he could find,” Amber said. “But he has nothing by the greatest respect for Canadian geese. Some of his best friends are Canadian."

Shares of U.S. Airways Group, the parent company of U.S. Airways, plunged $1.25 to $.03 on news that Sullenberger had planned to quit flying in order to devote more time to his singing career, developing his new line of swimwear and filling in for Jeff Probst next season as the host of “Survivor.”

The airline has ordered Sullenberger back to work effective immediately and has asked the federal government to assign an extra air marshall to all his flights in order to keep Sullenberger from leaving the cockpit at any time (though he will be allowed to stand in the doorway to wave hello and buh-bye to the passengers).

The Airline Pilots Association has agreed to wave the rule granting pilots one bathroom break every three hours. “He’s a flight risk, and we simply cannot chance losing him at this time. The economy of the entire airline industry depends on Sully now,” said union president Buzz Mifflin, adding,. “If that lady astronaut can drive from Houston to Orlando without stopping to change her diaper, we’re confident than Sully will be able to make it, too.”

...whether my morning commute tune—Chris Brown's cover of "Try A Little Tenderness"—is/was an ironic choice on the part of my iPod's shuffle.  Maybe it knows something the LAPD does not.  The singer was released on $50,000 bail after an arrest for alleged battery of an anonymous, "visibly injured" female.  Brown and the other half of the world's most beautiful couple—singer Rihanna—both bailed on the Grammys last night, causing some connect-the-dots theories that she was on the receiving end of the alleged "criminal threat."  He's due in court on March 5.

Last night, as the 51^st Annual Grammy Awards were airing, I was staring intently at the screen. Not the television, my laptop, so I could keep up to date on the latest breaking news on Chris Brown and Rihanna. It's a bad sign with the most interesting people at the Grammys are the ones who didn't show up. Soy Bomb, where have you gone? I miss you Ol' Dirty Bastard. Wu-Tang is, indeed, for the children. Somehow, this year's Grammys managed to span a numbingly dull three-hours-and-change without a single such water-cooler moment to justify its existence. The music industry has been on a downward spiral for years, and now the biggest night in music is beginning to reflect that joylessness. Can the show be fixed? Should I give up? Or should I keep on chasing pavements, even if it leads nowhere? I don't know if the Grammys can be great, but I know they can be better, if next year's producers follow my simple six-point plan.  

1. Bring Back the Hosts

For years, award shows have been creeping towards using a disembodied voice to replace a host. The Grammys have gone hostless for four years straight, with Queen Latifah being the last to hold the reins for the 47^th annual show. Sure, comedian hosts can be hit-or-miss. But having an emcee, one who lends his or her voice and sensibility to the entire show, lends a continuity that can make a show of interminable length seem brisk. It might seem a little old-fashioned, but there's a reason awards shows have had hosts for so long: because they're better that way.

2. More Banter Between Presenters

Anyone who's ever watched an awards show knows: celebrities hate reading jokes from a teleprompter. But that's always been part of the fun. It's hilarious to see the dissonance created when a famous person tries to balance a desire to be professional with a desire not to look stupid in delivering a rotten joke. So they stumble, or ad-lib, or curse, and it's invariably awesome. Why, then, do the Grammy presenters dryly praise each other before announcing the award winners? If they have to read a script anyway, can't it at least be an entertaining one?

3. No More Blind-Date Duets

There's simply no logical reason why Sugarland's "Stay" should dovetail into Adele's "Chasing Pavements." So why fuse them together? It's certainly not more efficient – the award to performance ratio seemed entirely off last night– and if anything, it just makes for a longer performance as the awkward mash-up builds to its crescendo. There's simply no way to squeeze every hit song into a three-hour telecast. Occasionally, someone's going to have to get benched. My vote is for Katy Perry, because "I Kissed a Girl" sounds terrible live, and because I get confused when she and Zooey Deschanel are in close proximity.

4. No History for Its Own Sake…

Most of the odd performance pairings come from a desire to blend the old with the new, as all awards shows try to do. But if it's already going to be difficult enough to represent all the current music being honored, is it really a good use of time to trot out Neil Diamond to perform "Sweet Caroline?" I love the Four Tops as much as anyone, but why am I watching Ne-Yo perform a Four Tops medley instead of a song from "Year of the Gentleman," his current Album of the Year nominee?

5. …or Anything Too New

And for that matter, what's the use of having U2 on to perform a song no one has heard before? The new song "Get On Your Boots" is far from the band's best, and even if it had been another "One" or "Beautiful Day," it's hard to get a crowd (or a home audience) geeked about something they're hearing for the very first time.

6. Stop Killing the Suspense

Even just following this one bit of advice could go a long way. For years it's been the rule on music awards shows that people get to collect trophies after they've just finished performing. This is the absolute worst possible way to give someone a Grammy. Every year, in the Album of the Year category, there are new, fresh, edgy records that don't have a chance in hell of winning after the fusty voters have their say (see: Lil Wayne, Radiohead, Ne-Yo.) But let's say I'm a Weezy fan, and I'm holding out hope that he could pull it out. After I see Robert Plant and Alison Krauss perform at ten 'til the hour, I know I can go to bed. And in addition to snuffing out the suspense, it's just no fun to watch someone walk from backstage to collect an award. It's fun to see the shock on the winner's face, the shock of those around them, that overwhelming walk up to the podium. If it's going to be this predictable and boring, just mail them to people's houses and be done with it.

Photo, John Kobal-Getty Images (left); Hulton Archive-Getty Images.

Check out our photo gallery of 19 of the most memorable Oscar snubs, all actors and actresses who gave some of the most enduring and iconic movie performances of all time (Judy Garland?  Jimmy Stewart?  Ingrid Bergman?) but failed to earn a nomination for their roles.  Pictured also are the eventual winners.

We're kind of excited to see how Hugh Jackman performs as Oscar emcee on Feb. 22 -- but Wolverine is following a lot of big names. To ease his nerves, here are a few hosting gigs that got panned by audiences and critics alike (including some we at Pop Vox HQ secretly admired):

Oprah!  Uma!  Oprah!  Uma!  Poor David Letterman -- this 1995 joke is still incomprehensible, and earned the comedian the lowest marks in Oscar host history.  Only the Keanu Reeves potshot was funny.

Them's Fightin' Words: Legend Etta James "can't stand" Beyoncé, warns bootylicious singer "she's going to get her a-- whipped" for singing James' "At Last" during Inauguration celebrations

Is That Supposed to Make Us Feel Better?: Miley Cyrus not mocking Asians with slant-eyed photo, just making "goofy" face, she says

Illusions Shattered: Springsteen, E-Street Band played to backing track during Super Bowl; only Boss's vocals were live

Cash in Like the Wind: Spinal Tap to release new record for 25th anniversary of "This Is Spinal Tap"

De-Lux-ed: Cramps lead singer Lux Interior dies of preexisting heart condition

• Upon Further Review, the Earlier Ruling is Overturned. The Super Bowl gathered 98.7 million viewers, not 95.4 million, Nielsen reported this morning -- a fact it took them overtime to nail down and a new record for most-watched.  If you were one of the 200 million who didn't catch it -- or happened to be watching the other, extremely close sporting event of the evening (ESPN's replay of the Australian Open final, Nadal v. Federer) -- then check out Hulu, which has uploaded all of the commercials. (One of the best of the batch, incidentally, is theirs).  [Hulu; AP via MSNBC]
  

• Sweet or Sour? We Can't Imagine 'Candy Land' on the Big Screen. The Hasbro game "Candy Land" will come to the big screen, thanks to Universal Pictures.  If you're not sure how this is going to work, they aren't really, either -- the studio has tapped a few comedic vets to head up the project (Etan Cohen, who helped write "Tropic Thunder," and Kevin Lima, who directed "Enchanted" and "102 Dalmations"), but it's still early.  The movie comes out of a bigger deal with Hasbro, which makes G.I. Joes (see the movie this summer) and Transformers (...ditto).  [Variety]

• Words of Sympathy for Bale from Man Who Directed a Movie About Beating People Up. Darren Aronofsky, director of "The Wrestler," has spoken out in defense of Christian Bale's infamous (and, now, remixed) tirade against a "Terminator" director of photography who disrupted a take.  "It is a sacred time between action and cut. If it was the first time it was excusable, but a second time that ruins it," Aronofsky said at the London Film Critics' Awards ceremony.  Now, if someone actually involved would comment.  [BBC]
  

The horror-meister minced no words in an interview with USA Today: "Both ['Harry Potter' author J.K.] Rowling and ['Twilight' author Stephenie] Meyer, they're speaking directly to young people. ... The real difference is that Jo Rowling is a terrific writer and Stephenie Meyer can't write worth a darn. She's not very good."

Me-YOW. But Steve-O's not done:

"[I]n the case of Stephenie Meyer, it's very clear that she's writing to a whole generation of girls and opening up kind of a safe joining of love and sex in those books. It's exciting and it's thrilling and it's not particularly threatening because they're not overtly sexual. A lot of the physical side of it is conveyed in things like the vampire will touch her forearm or run a hand over skin, and she just flushes all hot and cold. And for girls, that's a shorthand for all the feelings that they're not ready to deal with yet."

Wonder what Mr. King would make of the moms who love the books as much as their daughters …

Photo courtesy of the Future Perfect.

Ahh, commemorative tchotchkes.  So universally bad, and yet, so politically divisive.  As President Obama made himself at home last week (to a full fridge of Honest Tea, Black Forest Berry and Green Dragon flavors), he apparently said of a Bush-era decorative display, "I’ve got to do something about these plates. I’m not really a plates kind of guy." 

Turns out, he kind of is.  The "Hope" poster artist Shepard Fairey's studio has emblazoned Obama's face on a limited edition porcelain plate -- comes in both blue and red, plus gift box; yours for $89.  Moreover, shelter blogs Remodelista and Apartment Therapy, respectively, are pointing out the ways in which plate displays can be tasteful. (Turns out, it has to do with the dish itself -- an arrangement of John Derian's latest offerings gets more cred than, say, multiples of Diana: The People's Princess Commemorative Plate).

Even with the Fairey touch, anything hawked as "limited edition" and "porcelain" reminds us of those frolicking blue-eyed kittens you always see in "Parade."  And we wouldn't want those at our pad.

Maybe you haven't seen the five Best Picture contenders, and maybe you don't want to.  Maybe you're also at ease in cufflinks, and know what a collateralized loan obligation is.  If any of those things are true, and you still feel like gambling on the events of Feb. 22, chances are you'll enjoy the Wall-Streetification of Oscar betting over at Intrade. (They'll probably yelp at our use of betting,  so to use their terms, it's "trading in the prediction market.") The thing that makes it different from your average Oscar bar bet is that you can short it -- meaning, you can still play if you think Amy Adams won't win for "Doubt," but are unsure of whether Penelope Cruz or Taraji P. Henson will snag the statue instead.

A financially savvy Pop Vox fan's explanation:

You can benefit from buzz beforehand, and never actually wait for the show.  So I can buy Viola Davis at 12, and as she gets more publicity leading up to the show, say she goes up to 18. That still means she only has an 18 percent chance of winning, but let's say I sell two days before the Oscars at 18.  Whether or not she wins I've made a 50 percent profit.

All this should qualified with a legality warning. The site is based in gambling-friendly Dublin, but to participate from here you'd have do all that money-wiring nonsense that keeps online poker participants in the clear.  Buyer beware.

In honor of our Q&A-ing perennial film spy Clive Owen--who outlines his spotted dick preferences for your perusal, here--we present a (mostly) informed, (kind of) strenuously assembled bracket of the top 16 spies ever on film. (Newsweek critics Marc Peyser, Devin Gordon, Jennie Yabroff, Mark Coatney, Ramin Setoodeh and Patrick Enright--hats off). Now, the power to advance winners to an Elite Eight round is up to YOU--as well as the criteria by which you do so. Whether based on sheer badass quotient (Daniel Craig), muscle mass (Ahhnold) or foppish glamour (Cary Grant), your votes will count 'til Monday.

The procedure: Pick the winner of each of the eight matchups, and give us the names of the final eight either in the comments below or via email at popvoxblog@gmail.com. Cue the MI music--now GO!

• More Miley Cyrus Photos Offending More People.  Michael Phelps, you had your day in the sun -- let's welcome back regular guest Miley Cyrus to the Embarrassing Internet Photos Hall of Fame.  This time, old Hannah Montana is using her fingers to slant her eyes while standing next to a young Asian guy, causing (justifiable) outrage from an Asian activist group as the photo makes the rounds online.  Ugh.  This is what happens when you raise a child in front of rolling film. [MTV]

• Al Pacino Gets an Upgrade.  Director Michael Radford hires Pacino, who played the weaselly Shylock in the filmmaker's version of "The Merchant of Venice," to play King Lear in, um, "King Lear."  A bit intimidating, going up against Laurence Olivier and Orson Welles (former Lears, both) -- but if anyone can handle it, it's Al. [Variety]

• Guy Denies Being Responsible for Britney's Nutty Phase.  Britney Spears' former "manager," aka, constant '07 companion Sam Lufti, is suing the star and her parents for libel and defamation after they named him responsible for the whole public meltdown thing.  The Spears parents allege that Lufti drugged their daughter repeatedly, siphoned off her money and wreaked havoc on her well-being.  They've since filed a restraining order; Lufti says the allegations have caused him "humiliation" and "distress."  [BBC News]

Photo, Sony Pictures.

In '"The International," Clive Owen plays an Interpol agent who, with the help of a Manhattan Assistant District Attorney (Naomi Watts), investigates some nefarious banking shenanigans.NEWSWEEK's Nicki Gostin spoke to the star about his film and his alleged fear of... badgers:

You play an Interpol agent. Did you hang out with other Interpol agents?

No, there wasn't an Interpol advisor and amazingly I did get an invite but I couldn't go. I went to Lyon for just one day of filming there and I was invited to go around the offices which I would have definitely loved to have done but unfortunately I was in and out so quick I didn’t have the time.

Did you have someone show you how to use a gun?
Yes, there was a lot of research done in the preparation of this script... about banking institutions and things that had happened in the past.

It’s all about corrupt banking. At the end of filming did you want to take your money out of the bank and shove it under your mattress?

It's amazing, the timing of it really. We finished a year ago and the script was worked on for two years prior to that and the big thing the film does is, it opens the door to the question the way banks deal with money and whether they use the money appropriately and if they are completely sound institutions, and they’re the big questions of the last year, aren’t they?

So do you have your money underneath your bed?

No, I’m not that paranoid, so don’t try and come to rob me.

When you do a movie do you have any special requests like you need an umbrella holder person?

It’s pretty important to me that I at least be able to record Liverpool football games.

Do you have it in your contract?

It’s, um, I have to have, yeah I don’t have it exactly in my contract but it’s important to me that at least I can do is tape the game.

Do you ever call off filming because of an important match?

No, but I’ve watched games on set.

If they lose are you in a bad mood?

It can be a bit depressing.

Getting back to special requests on set. Ever ask for a certain beer or spotted dick?

(laughs) No, I definitely don’t eat spotted dick.

[CLICK MORE>> FOR FULL POST]

If you haven't yet heard, serious (really serious) actor Christian Bale has been caught on tape, totally spazzing on the set of "Terminator Salvation." Apparently, the director of photography was walking around in the background while Bale was trying to do a scene, which completely threw the intense thespian into a furious, furious rage. He proceeds to berate the hapless DP for about three minutes, dropping profanities right and left. If you want to listen, here's a link to the audio, but beware, it's totally NSFW, unless your workplace allows F-bombs. Also, here's the hilarious dance remix (also NSFW). 

Um, Chris? You're in "Terminator Salvation." Maybe you could take yourself a leeeetle less seriously?

V&A Museum: Stephen Jones - Terence Donovan/Tatler. © The Condé Nast Publications Ltd.

War, unemployment, 3D glasses -- and now, a spate of hats in high places.  Seriously, have we time-traveled back to 1954?  We owe the hat thing in part to Carla Bruni-Sarkozy, the Kate Moss of modest attire, who put "pillbox" back in the lexicon when she donned Dior last March. Hats then seeped onto the Spring/Summer 2009 fashion runways -- noted designers like Marc Jacobs and Dolce & Gabbana sent models sailing down the catwalk in headgear -- and from there, made the natural leap (baby step?) to February's Vogue.  In the fashion spread "It's A Madcap World," models aped 1930s gals-about-town in twee straw boaters. Next came Aretha -- gloriously coronated Aretha -- in her bejeweled, bow-ed inaugual hat, now actively sought by the costume preservationists at the Smithsonian.

Now, hats get a scholarly undergirding in an exhibition at London's famed costume museum, the Victoria and Albert, called "Hats: An Anthology."  Stephen Jones, expert hat designer and milliner, has curated the show (opening Feb. 24) and included more than 300 hats, ranging from an Egyptian mask (c. 600 BC) to Seussical creations from the '50s (like the one seen above).  Included also are some examples from famous movie roles -- Audrey Hepburn's straw hat from her "My Fair Lady" role was found stuffed in the bottom of a storage box in a Warner Brothers archive, and will be on display in the "Famous Clients" section of the show. If you're up for a hop overseas, the anthology runs through May 31.

Meanwhile, if you're just looking for a copy of Aretha's Texas-sized felt hat, the Detroit-based milliner who created it has plans to sell a satin facsimile for $179.

• 50 Years Since the Music Died.  Half a century ago to the day, Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and the Big Bopper died in an Iowa cornfield when their four-seat airplane crashed.  It was the day the music died -- until the Beatles came on the scene five years later. In perhaps an insensitive eulogy of the three singers, headlines (including this one from the NY Daily News) posit 'The Day the Music Died -- But Not Really.'
  

• And Died... Just weeks after it was announce that cellist Yo-Yo Ma "string-synced" the inaugural performance to a previous recording, it was revealed that both Faith Hill and Jennifer Hudson were asked to lipsync their renditions of the National Anthem at Sunday's Super Bowl. Apparently there are too many 'variables' that could screw up a live performance.  Couldn't those variables be solved with double-sided tape?? [ABC News]

• And Died.  The top 36 contestants to vie for the 12 Hollywood spots on American Idol were leaked on two fan sites over the weekend -- nearly two weeks before their announcement on the show Feb. 11.  Check them out -- if you dare to believe -- from this MSNBC roundup.
  

There's been lots of talk among the arts staff here about what kinds of movies people want to see when the economy is bad. It's a valid question, considering that theater attendance went up during five of the seven recessions since 1965 and January 09 box office grosses topped $1 billion (a 19% increase over Jan 08.) But it's a hard one to answer. Current box office receipts suggest movie watchers are schizophrenic about what they spend their (shrinking) dollars on. Based on the success of "Paul Blart: Mall Cop," which ruled the box office for several weeks, you could posit audiences want escapist fare they can take the kids to. But then how do you explain "Blart" getting kicked out of #1 by the revenge flick "Taken," or brooding "Gran Torino," about a racist Vietnam vet, holding strong in the top 10 after eight weeks?Maybe it makes more sense to ask what movies audiences should be watching during these dark financial times, and the answer to that is simple: “The Bicycle Thief.” (Aren’t you glad this isn’t a post arguing the merits of “Mall Cop”?)

Vittorio De Sica’s simple story about poverty’s dehumanizing effect on one out-of-work father won an honorary Oscar when it was released sixty years ago (before they even had an official category for best foreign language film), and it was voted the best film of all time in a 1952 poll by Sight and Sound magazine. But in the intervening years it’s become one of those taken-for-granted classics few people bother to actually see anymore. (In the Hollywood satire “The Player,” a callow producer accidentally stumbles into a screening, then proclaims his studio should make more films like “The Bicycle Thief” before turning the conversation to the thriller next up on the studio’s slate.) The movie, a neorealist fable set in economically devastated post-war Italy, is a stunner, and its concerns feel not just relevant, but urgent, today. It opens with a tight shot of an uneasy mob massed on a stairway below a man reading out job assignments. ‘Ricci,’ he calls, but Ricci isn’t there, and the camera pulls back, across the deserted street to the other side, where Ricci sits, downcast and alone. He gets the job (putting up movie posters), but there’s a catch: he needs a bicycle. His wife, Maria, sells her wedding sheets to collect Ricci’s bike from the pawnshop, and for a moment things are looking up. Of course, the movie’s called “The Bicycle Thief,” not “The Poster-Hanger,” and it’s not hard to guess what comes next. The entire country is in the grips of a depression, and an unattended bicycle proves too great a temptation for hungry thieves.

Ricci spends the rest of the film hunting, with his son, Bruno, for his stolen bicycle. As the opening shot establishes, Ricci is a man set against society. The police, the church, customers at a fortune-teller, and even the employees of a whorehouse thwart his efforts to locate his bike. When he finally collars the thief, a neighborhood mob (including a very Godfather-esque Mafioso in DeNiro shades) intimidates him into letting the kid go. But DeSica cuts against the despair of his story with one crisp, assured image after another. He balances scenes of dizzying vitality (the clerk in the pawnshop climbing up, up, up racks and racks of bedding to deposit Maria’s sad little bundle of sheets; the flock of poster-hangers scattering across the city on their bikes with their ladders tucked under their arms) with static shots where the city seems arrested in pure contrast between darkness and light. As frankly gorgeous as they are, the visuals never feel like a glamorization of poverty, or tonally discordant with the storyline. They are too straightforward, too alive, and DeSica never camouflages or prettifies what he’s showing us. The film has the clean, straight lines of a chessboard, and the same brutal logic of a game whose outcome is determined from the start.

• So, Six More Weeks Of Winter.  Surprise.  Not swayed by the local team's Super Bowl victory, the greater-Pittsburgh-area groundhog saw his shadow this morning -- meaning we're in store for more long winter weeks.  If you can't remember the last time he didn't see his shadow, you're not alone -- since 1887, he's predicted more winter on 97 occasions. [Associated Press] 

• Nailbiter Game and Cheesy-Sweet Commercials Make for Super Sunday.  Super Bowl ads garner good reviews -- except for the Pepsi "MacGruber" ad, which apparently this dude at Variety didn't get as a lifted SNL segment.  Oh well!  Bud Light, Doritos, Coke and Hulu aired charmers -- with the eyebrow-raising (Ed McMahon and MC Hammer are really shilling a pawn-shop site?  Really?) mixed in.  The only signs of the dismal fiscal times amid all the nuzzling-Clydesdale cheer were all the job-search site ads (Career Builder, Ladder, Monster, etc.)

• Will Dev Patel Sully His Good Name With a "Lady in the Water" Equivalent??  "Slumdog" star Dev Patel has another project!  Buuuut, it's an M. Night Shyamalan film.  The new film, called "The Last Airbender" and based on a Nickelodeon cartoon, is stacked with newcomers, including Noah Ringer, a kid who was found via an uploaded martial arts video in an Internet casting.  Never has Patel looked more like a grizzled, old pro. [Variety]