There was really no reason to watch last night’s Golden Globes other than to see what Ricky Gervais was going to do, and the man did not disappoint. He was ballsy, but more importantly, he was funny. He began the night ripping on The Tourist and the Hollywood Foreign Press (the elephants in the room, let’s face it), and proceeded to actually be funny every time he was onstage, making reference to John Travolta being closeted (“‘I Love You Phillip Morris’ — two heterosexual actors pretending to be gay – which is the exact opposite of some famous Scientologists … probably.”) and introducing Bruce Willis as “Ashton Kutcher’s dad.”

Ricky Gervais did most of the obvious jokes (Charlie Sheen, Mel Gibson, Etc.), but he executed them brilliantly. To host this kind of Hollywood circle jerk without coming off as a massive tool would be a feat; to actually be funny, entertaining, and honest was nothing short of a miracle. A gay, scientology miracle. (pic via DailyWhat)

Of course, there’s a reason people in Hollywood are famous for being thin-skinned pussies, and the reason is that Hollywood people are thin-skinned pussies. Actually, that’s not quite true. Most of the stars seemed to understand the way jokes work (especially Christian Bale). It seems to be the media that’s largely responsible for misinterpreting playful ball-busting for conflict (or deliberately stoking controversy). How say you, O Great Greek Twat Chorus?

WashingtonPost: “Are we at war with England? If not, then why have we been subjected to two years of Gervais hosting the Golden Globe Awards, witnessing a growing hostility between the British comedian and a resentful audience of celebs?” [This writer should be sentenced to 30 hours of Gervais-free Globe coverage]

NYTimes: “It’s so rare for presenters to be at open war with their host, and at times it almost looked as if Mr. Gervais and Mr. Bale were intent on bringing to Hollywood some of the incivility and extremism that veins political discourse. Theirs was certainly the most conspicuous wisp of conflict of the night, and that is unusual.” [Oh NY Times, you win the Golden Globe for Most New York Timesyest]. “Trashing the association that feeds you, on the other hand, is bad form, or bad politics.” [Not true. To not acknowledge that the HFPA is a joke would just be dishonest. Also, who gets fed by an association?]

LATimes: Headline: ‘Golden Globes: Host Ricky Gervais was just too nasty.’ The host pulled no punches, but he should have knocked himself out. [What does that even mean? Is this a Fighter review?] The opposite of dull and deferential is not snotty and abusive. [Likewise, the opposite of dull and uninformed is not humorless and c*nty.]

FoxNews: Ricky Gervais draws more gasps than grins at the Golden Globes. [But neither from me, because I had a big wiener in my mouth!]

BaltimoreSun: The normally clever-to-brilliant Ricky Gervais resorted to nonstop insult comedy as “the host” of the Golden Globes last night. He appeared to be auditioning for a dinner-theater version of “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” His main game was “Get the Guest.”
When he wasn’t putting down easy targets like Charlie Sheen or joking about the vanity of “Sex and the City” stars and the age of Cher, his staggeringly lame fallback position was to list the lesser credits of A-listers like Bruce Willis.

You’re right, that was staggeringly lame! Maybe you should write his jokes next year, Mr. Guy-who-thinks-Who’s-Afraid-of-Virginia-Woolf-references are timely! Anyway, I’m done popping these queef balloons, it’s starting to stink in here. Here’s a list of the winners:

Read the rest of this entry »

In what may be the worst decision ever made, according to the Hollywood Reporter, Robert Downey Jr. has officially left Alfonso Cuaron’s planned sci-fi epic Gravity and is now “circling” another project, How to Talk to Girls.  How to Talk to Girls is of course the adaptation of a how-to book written by, wait for it, a nine-year old.

Sources say that actor is circling the project, an adaptation of a book by a nine-year old boy revolving around advice on how to deal with the opposite sex. Downey, along with wife and producing partner Susan Downey, would also come aboard as a producer, joining Shawn Levy and his 21 Laps banner.

Girls was written by Alec Greven, then 9 years old, as a school project. It landed the boy a publishing deal (at least three other How to Talk to … books have been written) and put him on talk shows across the country.

Ben Karlin and Stu Zicherman wrote a draft but word is that the project is being reconceived and developed as a Downey vehicle. Susan Downey will spearhead the development process and will oversee the hiring of a writer. At the time of Fox acquisition, Levy said he wanted to make a comedy in the tone of Big.

Aw, a 9-year-old wrote a book, isn’t that adorable? NO. IT’S NOT F*CKING ADORABLE AT ALL.  IT’S CREEPY AND WEIRD AND THE PEOPLE ENCOURAGING IT SHOULD HAVE TO PAY FOR THE HEROIN REHAB.  Aw, look, we took a human being and turned him into a talking action figure for Oprah fans!  Isn’t it great?  It’s so lifelike, it even wears sweaters!  Guuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. The only thing worse than a media-trained adult is a media-trained child.  Unfortunately, Greven isn’t the only one of these.  Stare into the eye of the beast after the jump, but consider yourselves warned. Read the rest of this entry »

Between Tropic Thunder and proving himself a real got damn American at UFC 120 last week, it’d be hard to build more good will than Robert Downey Jr.  Still, I can’t help but be disappointed that he’s producing (with an eye to star) an adaptation of Neil Strauss’s Emergency! This Book Will Save Your Life, which Allan Loeb is scripting.

After the last few years of violence and terror, of ethnic and religious hatred, of tsunamis and hurricanes–and now of world financial meltdown–Strauss, like most of his generation, came to the sobering realization that, even in America, anything can happen. But rather than watch helplessly, he decided to do something about it. And so he spent three years traveling through a country that’s lost its sense of safety, equipping himself with the tools necessary to save himself and his loved ones from an uncertain future. With the same quick wit and eye for cultural trends that marked The Game, The Dirt, and How to Make Love Like a Porn Star, Emergency traces Neil’s white-knuckled journey through today’s heart of darkness, as he sets out to move his life offshore, test his skills in the wild, and remake himself as a gun-toting, plane-flying, government-defying survivor. [official book description via /Film]

So the dude version of Eat, Pray, Love, basically.  Hey, how about an adaptation of The Dirt instead?  That’s like the best book ever.  Who wouldn’t want to see Nikki Sixx de-groupie-smell his wiener by sticking it in a breakfast burrito?  Anyway, around the time I did the 10 worst lines from Wall Street 2 post, I got ahold of Allan Loeb’s script, only to find that a good eight of the 10 worst lines weren’t even in it.  So maybe it was whatever coked-up chimps Oliver Stone got to work on it after Loeb who were really to blame.  But with a resume that includes 21, Wall Street 2, The Switch, The Dilemma, an upcoming Adam Sandler comedy, Kevin James’ MMA-saves-the-rec-center project, and now this, until proven otherwise, I have to assume Allan Loeb is a human version of Awesom-o.  And yet he can’t go a week without getting a new job.  Do people in Hollywood actually watch movies?  I have to assume they don’t.

Robert Downey Jr. is currently in England shooting Sherlock Holmes 2 with Guy Ritchie and Jude Law, and last Saturday night, the trio decided to take in a good ol’ fashion’d donnybrook at UFC 120 at the O2 arena.  The co-main event was a fight between Brit Dan Hardy and American Carlos Condit.  It takes a lot of balls to root for your countrymen in hostile territory, and you know if it had been Gwyneth Paltrow, she’d have been cheering on the Brit between interviews about America’s arrogant foreign policy. But not Robert Downey Jr.   Here’s how it went down:

First, the British guy gets knocked out (click on the image to animate):

Forgetting or not caring that he’s there with a couple British guys and watching the fight on their turf, Downey jumps out of his seat cheering:
Read the rest of this entry »

Fry pondering the age-old question, "Should I headbutt Nick Lachey*?"

I won’t sit here and pretend I’m one of those super-hip anglophiles that knows who Stephen Fry is (I assumed he was Glenn’s brother and rocked a double-neck guitar in an Eagles tribute band), but for those of you who are, hold onto your scarves, because that dude is playing Sherlock Holmes’ brother Mycroft in the sequel to the Robert Downey vehicle, Sherlock Holmes.  Fry broke the news recently as a guest on Danny Baker’s BBC 5 Live show, where he had this to say:

“I’m playing Mycroft in the sequel to the Sherlock Holmes film Guy Ritchie directed with Robert Downey Jr., and that sort of part is fun, but just once in a while to play a genuine all round sort of lead figure with complexity and tragedy and wit and all the sort of things that Oscar [Wilde] had was a once-in-a-lifeftime thrill.”

Weh-he-hell, nice to see you’re on a first-name-only basis with dead literary figures, your majesty.  “Just da ovva day Oy wiz ‘avin’ a nosh wiff me mate, Biw Shakespeah, an’ ‘e reckons oy should play da Professah in Da Fast and Da Furious paht six, ‘e does.”   Anyway, I still haven’t seen Sherlock Holmes yet so I’m sort of indifferent to this news, but I think as long as we’re making exxxtreme adaptations of English literature, we should consider changing the name to Sherlock, Holmes! (*double suck it thrust*).

*As noted, it’s David Boreanaz (bore-my-anus?), not Nick Lachey.  But tell me that dude doesn’t look like Nick Lachey from the side.