Author: Deb Medsker (Page 57 of 70)

“The name ith Bond. Jameth Bond.”

A certain suave superspy may be speaking with a lisp after taking a beating both literally and figuratively this week. Actor Daniel Craig, who will replace Pierce Brosnan as the title character in the next James Bond film, “Casino Royale,” reportedly had two of his teeth knocked out while filming his very first fight scene.

The accident occurred on the heels of increasingly vocal (though surprisingly tardy) objections to Craig’s casting in the famous role. Hardcore Bond fans with too much time on their hands have developed a site called Craignotbond.com, in which they threaten to boycott the film upon release, refer to Craig as “short, blond, and odd-looking,” and compare his appearance to those of Frankie Muniz, Cosmo Kramer, and vampire Nosferatu.

Informed of the on-set mishap–which was serious enough to require Craig’s personal dentist to be flown in from London–the Bondies replied that Pierce Brosnan’s teeth would have withstood a punch TWICE as hard, and that Sean Connery’s dentist can beat up Daniel Craig’s dentist any day of the week and twice on Sunday.

Lindsay Lohan, Serious Actress

Premium Hollywood It Girl Lindsay Lohan hates being called a “Teen Queen,” loathes her party-girl reputation, and would like you to know that she is in fact a serious actress, she reveals in her upcoming interview with Allure magazine (whose teenage subscribers presumably number in the hundreds of thousands).

As we have the utmost respect for Ms. Lohan, and her serious-actressy work in such films as “Freaky Friday,” “Herbie: Fully Loaded,” and “Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen,” we will no longer refer to her as “Teen Queen,” “It Girl,” or “Former Jailbait.” Acceptable euphemisms for the actress from this point forward will be limited to appropriately respectable monikers such as “Talented Freckle-Faced Matchstick,” “Rehab-Bound Future Movie-of-the Week Star” and “Strawberry Harlot.”

“Dammit, Jann, we are NOT holding the party in your pants!”

Rolling Stone editor-in-chief Jann Wenner has fired his magazine’s publisher after a spat about where to hold an upcoming party celebrating the publication’s 1,000th issue. Publisher Steve DeLuca was understandably upset when, after securing advertising commitments based on a Rockefeller Center location, the swank affair was moved to the cachet-challenged Hammerstein Ballroom.

Upon explaining to Wenner that the venue change might cause upstanding sponsors like Clearasil, Southern Comfort and Marlboro to take their already-declining ad dollars elsewhere, DeLuca was shown the door. Associate Publisher Ray Chelstowski has stepped in to fill DeLuca’s shoes in the interim, but the twenty-year publishing veteran will presumably be permanently replaced by a nineteen-year-old contestant from Wenner’s new reality show.

The money saved on DeLuca’s salary will then be spent overpaying for exclusive stories and photos of increasingly irrelevant aging classic rock stars, buxom yet mediocre songstresses, and future Wenner flings.

We wish we knew how to quit Jake, too

Hot off the success of its nubile naked nymphs cover, Vanity Fair has now offered up something for the ladies: B-roll video footage of Annie Leibovitz’s photo shoot with Jake Gyllenhaal for the Hollywood issue.

The camera lingers on Gyllenhaal’s sad-puppy eyes as he strikes a variety of pensive, manly-yet-sensitive poses to background music presumably cribbed from Sade’s long-lost porn soundtrack. Jake wears a black t-shirt and jeans, and then, in a dramatic shift, switches to a white t-shirt and jeans. He tousles his glossy, glossy hair at least a half-dozen times — aiming for “adorably disheveled bedhead” and nailing it like a pro.

And, speaking of nailing it like a pro, the images and soundtrack alike will undoubtedly feature heavily in the future fantasies of teenage girls, lonely housewives and closeted cowboys the world over. Well done, Jake.

“I see red people”

Jeff Goldblum is in talks to star in the pilot for a new NBC drama called “Seeing Red.” To be directed by Oscar nominee Frank Darabont, the program centers around an “eccentric, brilliant cop with the ability to talk to dead victims, who help him solve his cases.”

One can’t help wondering why none of those same dead people have yet informed Goldblum or the creators of “Seeing Red” that we have already seen this show at least four times…when it was called “Medium,” “Tru Calling,” “The Ghost Whisperer,” and, in theaters, “The Sixth Sense.”

Can’t we leave the dead people dead for once? They must be tired of all that crime-solving by now, wouldn’t you think? When it’s my turn to be dead, I’m not going to waste valuable time fighting crime. I’ll be sitting on the couch with a quart of Baskin-Robbins Pralines ‘n’ Cream, watching TLC home makeover shows non-stop, only getting up long enough to spook the neighbors’ high-strung lapdog every once in a while.

But that’s just me.

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