WHAT'S NEW: Whereas last week the only question we faced was the degree of the Iron Man beating awaiting Patrick Dempsey and Made of Honor, today we're starting a pool to see how close (or how far) Marvel's $100 million hero will keep Speed Racer before pulling away in the Sunday home stretch. Most observers expect Iron Man's take to drop as much as 50% this weekend, but like last Friday, we think lingering word-of-mouth and irresistible talent will keep the film well in excess of expectations — as in $65 million to Speed Racer's $40 million. We'll get to the Ashton Kutcher/Cameron Diaz vehicle What Happens in Vegas in a second, but more painlessly for now, here are some of the other new titles bottlenecking theaters: Music video maven Tarsem's sumptuous (and apparently boring) labor of love The Fall; the John Leguizamo / teenagers-fucking satire The Babysitters; the espionage spoof OSS 117: Nest of Spies; and the canny Paskowitz family documentary Surfwise.

THE BIG LOSER: We've heard it said that What Happens in Vegas is Fox's idea of counterprogramming to Speed Racer, but what do you really call it when the weekend's biggest new release itself amounts to second fiddle overall? History will decide, but we think $20 million estimates are far too generous for the Kutcher/Diaz miscarriage. Try closer to $16 million and, as the gift that keeps on giving, a pan for the ages from Manohla Dargis: "[B]ecause its director, Tom Vaughan, brings nothing of interest to the movie, including filmmaking, there isn't anything to say other than to note its insulting ugliness and ineptitude. ... It's disheartening that Ms. Diaz doesn't seem to realize that there's no upside to a role that strips away her dignity even as it peels off her clothes, especially when she's playing the shrew." Now that's love we can all take to the bank.

THE UNDERDOG: A terrific Famke Janssen skips the glam in Turn the River, the writing-directing debut of actor Chris Eigeman (Metropolitan, Kicking And Screaming). As a single-mother gambler and pool shark planning to steal her young son away to Canada — but only after hustling her way to $50,000 — Janssen digs into River with both leading-lady aplomb and a wounded integrity most of her male contemporaries usually try to approximate through overwrought brooding. Co-star Rip Torn is good for a few ironic flourishes that redeem the late melodrama, all of which are outdone by Janssen's real pool-shooting exploits. We wouldn't bet against her — at least not this weekend.

FOR SHUT-INS: You can have your I'm Not There DVD's, your P.S. I Love Yous, your vagina dentata comedy Teeth, your fourth season of The 4400 and all that other bullshit. But there is really only one new title worth welcoming into the guilty sanctuary of your own home: The Hottie and the Nottie. Miraculously neither watchable nor as bad as it's made out to be, judge for yourself the blight of Paris Hilton vanity on this week's release calendar.

So are you down for or down on Speed Racer? Will What Happens In Vegas stay, ahem, in Vegas? Will newfound billiards talent Famke Janssen kick your ass for an easy 50 grand? Go all in and let us know where your money's riding this weekend.

Lindsay in the true life crime film was to play the dramatic part of Nancy Pitman, a pampered surfer girl who became enthralled with Charlie Manson. But insiders explain that Lohan quickly became more of a deficit than an asset when they discovered that they couldn't find any name actresses who wanted to co-star with her.

(And even some name actors...) So now Lindsay is off the pic. Let this be a lesson... Behaving badly may get you on the covers of celebrity-obsessed mags and tabloids. But Hollywood won't tolerate your shit and shouldn't.

What Lohan's starlet non grata status means for her other current projects is still too soon to say. Certainly, everything seemed to be hunky dory on the set of Ugly Betty, which saw the actress returning to vintage, Mean Girls-era Lohan for a schoolyard bullying sequence which may or may not involve beating up Christian Siriano. As for Ye Olde Times, a Jack Black comedy set in a Medieval Times-style restaurant, we have yet to hear anything about producers having second thoughts about their choice to put the troubled actress in the small but pivotal role of Busty Serving Wench #2, a good sign that at least some in Hollywood are still fully prepared to tolerate Lindsay's shit.

• Lindsay Lohan Now Hollywood Pariah... [deadlinehollywooddaily.com]

"She's a smart one. She saw what [happened with] Jennifer Aniston, who was crazy successful on TV, but can't seem to carry a film, and she tested the waters early."

But Heigl's chances of fleeing the yawnfest that is Grey's and continuing her journey towards becoming "the next Julia Roberts" don't look good:

After only three seasons on then-mega hit Grey's, Heigl did make an early attempt to break out as a "real" actress on the big screen, and whether it was a case of pure luck or actual talent, Knocked Up turned her into a bankable hot commodity overnight. Then came 27 Dresses, which managed to rack up an impressive $23mm its opening weekend, coming in second to the highly anticipated Cloverfield. Interestingly enough, 27 has racked up $76mm to date, trailing the J.J. Abrams shitshow by only $4mm as of May 1st. Next on her plate is a pantsless role in 2009's The Ugly Truth, which co-stars B.O. superstar Gerard Butler. The only hitch regarding Heigl's promising movie career? As a source told MSNBC, "Heigl might be locked into Grey's a bit longer. 'I don't think she'll be able to get out of it.'" But we're talking about a woman capable of curing ADD sans medical license! We're not worried about Heigl's manipulative methods when it comes to getting her way.

[Photo credit: Splash]

• HEIGL LOOKING TO HANG UP HER 'GREY'S' SCRUBS? [MSNBC]

On a segment from the Rachael Ray show a few weeks back, a visibly exhausted and seemingly brainwashed Remini told viewers in the most melancholy of tones how addicted her daughter Sophia is to "the baba." And if self-professed Scientologist Remini is following the religion's doctrines correctly, this means she is obeying founder L. Ron Hubbard's instructions to never breastfeed and, instead, feed babies a mixture consisting of barley water, homogenized milk, and oodles of sugar-heavy honey. But this is hardly the scary part. You see, Hubbard, who we must note claimed he had visited Heaven several times during his life, also claimed he discovered this baby formula after magically traveling back in time to hang out in ancient Rome: "I picked it up in Roman days and have used it since...Modern hospital formulas and patent mixes for babies are not just bad, they are criminal." While we're pretty sure that keeping one's baby on a proper nutritional diet is the furthest thing from criminal, we're equally sure that keeping the little ones sucking down Hubbard's formula well past their third birthday isn't doing any favors for the child's social development skills. As they say, this one is developing...

[Photo Credit: INF]

• SURI CRUISE AND HER BOTTLE: IS SHE TOO OLD? [Us]
• SCIENTOLOGY'S RECIPE FOR BABY MALNUTRITION AND, QUITE POSSIBLY, INFANT BOTULISM [Chello.nl]
• Is Leah Remini A Pushover Mom? [Rachael Ray]

PICTUREHOUSE AND WARNER INDEPENDENT PICTURES TO CEASE OPERATIONS (May 8, 2008 - Burbank, CA) Picturehouse and Warner Independent Pictures will cease operations, it was announced today by Alan Horn, President & COO, Warner Bros.

"With New Line now a key part of Warner Bros., we're able to handle films across the entire spectrum of genres and budgets without overlapping production, marketing and distribution infrastructures," said Horn. "After much painstaking analysis, this was a difficult decision to make, but it reflects the reality of a changing marketplace and our need to prudently run our businesses with increased efficiencies. We're confident that the spirit of independent filmmaking and the opportunity to find and give a voice to new talent will continue to have a presence at Warner Bros."

Bob Berney has served as President, Picturehouse and Polly Cohen as President, Warner Independent Pictures. The management teams from both companies will be meeting in the weeks ahead with executives from the Warner Bros. Pictures Group to determine the status of projects in various stages of development and acquisition, as well as distribution of already-dated films.

"Working with Polly and her team at Warner Independent has been great for me personally and a valuable experience for the company," said Jeff Robinov, President, Warner Bros. Pictures Group. "I'd like to thank everyone at Warner Independent for their passion and dedication to independent films and filmmakers. They were involved with some very important films and helped further the talents and careers of a number of writers and directors, and between Warner Bros. Pictures and New Line, we'll continue to nurture those relationships and produce those types of films."

"Bob is an incredibly talented film executive and made Picturehouse an important player in the world of independent film in a relatively short time," said Horn. "I'm extremely grateful to Bob and the entire team at Picturehouse. Their accomplishments and the films they created speak volumes about their dedication to and understanding of the art of film."

Upcoming Picturehouse films include Mongol (June 6), Kit Kittredge: An American Girl (in limited release June 20; wide release on July 2) and The Women (September 12). Warner Independent's upcoming releases include Towelhead (August 8) and Slumdog Millionaire (in limited release starting November 7).

In drawing upon predictable stereotypes, Steinhauer presumes that food is not in itself political. While we stupid Angelenos fail to notice real issues like architectural blights on our skyline or the mismanagement of municipal funds, the food-obsessed have rallied around something as inconsequential as taco "carts."

Steinhauer at once minimizes the gravity of the issue and the accompanying call-to-arms while also failing to recognize that food plays a significant role in dispensing culture. And in a place as complex as L.A., food is the first, if not only, ambassador that enables communication between disparate and varied communities.

Yes, taco trucks are about as authentic or integral to Mexican cuisine as bacon-wrapped hot dogs from a mini cart. But like those hot dog carts—which are a far cry from the NYC street carts that Steinhauer must be used to—they are but one representation of the resourcefulness and fortitude that sustain L.A.'s immigrant communities.

Yeah! Who you calling "loath to rally," NY Times? This from a newspaper whose recent, L.A.-based crack investigative work includes, "As 'American Idol' Fans Cheer, A Geppetto Pulls the Strings", and "Amidst the Engineered Reality of L.A.'s The Grove, A Real You." Angelenos care! About a lot of stuff—not just parking restrictions. When's the last time a New Yorker got a rubber bullet in the neck at an immigrants' rights demonstration? Or a Hummer over the foot protesting at the Bronson Gate? Or faced down an evil Japanese dolphin fisherman?
What do we want?!
Tacos and a bunch of other stuff!
When do we want them?!
NOW!!!

• This Angeleno ain't so mild [blogs-losangeles.metromix.com via EaterLA]

A source from within CNN says that Seacrest, who has filled in for his friend Larry King in the past, is involved in "serious negotiations" to take over "Larry King Live" around [2009]'s end.

"He's the classic generalist," King told the Times. "The only thing I don't know, and I've gotten to know him pretty well, is how versed he is in politics, world affairs. Does he read the paper? Is he interested in Iraq? Because if he is, he's going to be very good."

Better than good! He'll be terrific. Seacrest's duties until now have been limited to exchanging red carpet pleasantries, while occasionally offering a mascara-streaked singer who likens her "Idol journey" to the civil rights movement a shoulder to cry on. Imagine if he had access to the kinds of world leaders that his rapidly calcifying predecessor had? He could apply his preternatural, ladies-footwear-identifying gifts to influential heads of state, like President of India, Pratibha Patil! Yes, CNN should just go ahead and draw up the papers today, free from concern over the way Seacrest tends to hover over broadcast legends like a diminutive Angel of Death, waiting for the perfect moment to drop the scythe and snatch the reins from every Merv, Dick, and Larry to wander through his crosshairs.

• Seacrest in, Larry King out? [MSNBC]

In the accompanying interview, Hasselbeck reveals that with age, comes a measure of wisdom and inner-peace regarding God's Bigger Plan For How You Look in a Bikini. She explains: "I finally told myself ... 'I've got some curves, I've got a bubble butt, but I don't mind, because it's what powers me forward when I run.'" It's that fiery passion—whether in espousing the basic tenants of Joseph Pilates' Contrology theory or decrying Rev. Jeremiah Wright for being a peanut-butter-and-jelly-loving Cannibal-American—that runs through just about everything she touches. In honor of Hasselbeck, then, we take a moment to celebrate all American mothers' Constitutional rights to show off their still-perky racks and improbably toned stomachs on newsstands across the country. (Joy, Barbara, and Sherri: That obviously excludes you.)

And if you are interested in weighing in on what Miss Hasselbeck's most impressive asset is, head on over to AOL to make your voice heard! For those of you looking to cast your vote for "her fertility", sorry, that isn't one of the options.

• Elisabeth Hasselbeck Bares Her Body After Baby [People]

It might be self-serving of us to suggest they publicize their films, and in a way, we empathize with their reclusion; Larry Wachowski has been the subject of sex-change and dominatrix-dating speculation since a feminized version of himself — earrings, plucked eyebrows, manicure — showed up on the Matrix Revolutions red carpet in Cannes five years ago with mistress Ilsa Strix (née Karen Winslow) on his arm. The siblings later sneaked into the New York premiere of V For Vendetta (which they wrote and co-produced), and last week in Los Angeles they went positively presidential with subterfuge at the debut of Speed Racer. "They did not do the red-carpet press line at the Nokia Theatre on Saturday, and were well-camouflaged during the after-party," wrote Borys Kit in The Hollywood Reporter. "Photographers were sworn to secrecy as to their whereabouts, and Warner Bros. assigned handlers the mission of keeping journalists off the scent."

Like it matters; the Wachowskis haven't granted an interview in the decade since The Matrix, deferring to mega-producer and de facto representative Joel Silver and their casts to flog their work publicly. Their crews sign non-disclosure agreements. The duo's contracts entitle them to a luxury rarer than final cut — an opt-out provision shielding them from the promotion of their films. It's Stanley Kubrick/Terrence Malick/Eric Rohmer stuff, but with one crucial exception: Their films aren't that good.

Or at least they haven't been in nearly 10 years; Speed Racer is no different. But what is good about it are the things to which only they can speak — the practice of reinventing the source cartoon, the relationship of vision to execution, the extraordinary scene transitions eschewing cuts for something closer to a scrolling-head montage (like "bullet-time," you just have to see it), or, on the most basic of levels, directing a standout cast (and even a goddamned monkey) against one green-screen backdrop after another. Unlike Iron Man or Warners' even more anticipated summer offering The Dark Knight, the brands work in concert with personalities to acquire traction. Emile Hirsch's abstract praises are not enough.

Warner Bros. faced the similar scenario with Kubrick for nearly three decades, covering the director's final five films from A Clockwork Orange through Eyes Wide Shut. Obviously, his death in March 1999 put a pretty irrevocable kibosh on promoting the latter film, but he did speak out from time to time about the intervening work; his daughter Vivian's behind-the-scenes documentary about The Shining was a broadcast TV event in 1980, and he did a few select interviews in 1987 on behalf of Full Metal Jacket. Moreover, he was always involved with people — actors, writers, other filmmakers — and his 15 years of work prior to his British exile in the late '60s had installed him permanently among the world cinema vanguard.

Not so for the Wachowskis, a couple of ex-carpenters from Chicago whose one-two dynamos Bound and The Matrix boosted expectations from 1996 to 1999. Their work since has lapsed into the type of indulgence that further evokes itself in those clauses guaranteeing their immunity to press, and by extension, their audience. That audience has had nothing to latch onto for too long now; no taut narratives, no singular parallel universes and certainly no visual benchmarks that can and/or should speak for themselves. Their self-containment borders on alienating, their aloofness sharing breath with its conjoined twin, arrogance.

As the most public recluses working today (and at the highest budgets), their godfather Silver can only buy the Wachowskis their privacy for so long — especially as another of their putatively visionary summer efforts meets diminishing returns in a culture craving voices with faces and faces with names. If the Viral Era has taught us anything, it's that every mystery needs a payoff, and you have to earn your mystique if you expect to exploit it.

[Photo Credits: Wireimage, Getty]

Madonna's first performance in Paris in over ten years was predictably packed with props and gimmicks, like opening her set while seated in a regal throne-like seat, "twirling a magician's wand," and impressively managing to strut through numbers while wearing six-inch heels (a trick she may have picked up from BFF Gwyneth's new slutty facade?). But with all the crowd's enthusiasm and Madge's ability to spark sexual controversy after all these years, there's one teensy bit of sad news: "After that kiss, her daughter Lourdes asked her Material Mom if she were gay." While we don't know how Madonna responded, we like to think she pulled an old copy of her Sex book off the shelves, opened it up to this image, and said, "Does that look gay to you, honey?"

[Photo credits: Wireimage]

• MADONNA LOVES TO 'FRENCH THE FRENCH' [Sydney Morning Herald]
• MADONNA KISSES ANOTHER WOMAN (AGAIN!) [Us]

2. Puppies Are Cutest When Their Eyes Match Yours! After frenemies Audrina and Lauren adopt a brand new trendy Boggle (that's half boxer, half beagle to those of you out there who aren't cool enough to like, know already) to never take care of, Lauren notes how awesome it is when your puppy's eyes are the same color as yours! You know what else is awesome? The fact that this Boggle marks the third appearance of a puppy lovingly adored in the show's history, the first two having made their lovey dovey debuts briefly during the first season, never to be heard from or seen again. Are these poor things actor pets? Like Eddie on Frasier?

3. Guaranteed Way To Make Girls Leave A Room! Simple! First, repeat "La, la, la, la, la, la" in a flat monotone while simultaneously rolling your eyes. Second step? Be. Spencer. Pratt. In fact, scratch that. All one needs to do is Be. Spencer. Pratt.

• THE HILLS [MTV]

• WATCH VIDEO

Instead, we were treated to a too-long-overdue reunion with Stacey—the Bachelors in Nutrition-holding embodiment of our wildest drunken-reality-TV-slut fantasies—who came bearing yet another non-virginal sacrificial offering of panties for the man who got away. (They were instantly placed by a stagehand into a biohazard refuse container with a pair a salad tongs. Those too were promptly discarded.) But for your clip-viewing enjoyment, we've included the inevitable (even her own mother called this moment) montage of Amanda, cursed with a rare hiccup condition that transforms the contestant into a knockout version of The Muppets' Beaker whenever nerves get the better of her. Enjoy.

• The Bachelor [ABC]

Ms. Johansson, 23, is a BAFTA-winning and four-time Golden Globe-nominated actress and singer, who first rose to prominence playing a severely traumatized teenage girl in The Horse Whisperer. She later went on to receive critical acclaim for her starring turns in movies like Ghost World, Lost in Translation, and the Woody Allen-helmed Match Point, the last of which would mark the start of a long personal and creative relationship with the legendary director. Most recently, Ms. Johansson has branched out into recording arts as well, releasing an album of Tom Waits songs entitled "Anywhere I Lay My Head." It features a duet with rock icon David Bowie.

The 31-year-old Mr. Reynolds, meanwhile, has earned his own share of success as a leading man of the screen, starring in movies as diverse as The In-Laws, Blade:Trinity, and The Amityville Horror. He is frequently seen shirtless, showing off an athletic physique.

Mr. Reynolds proposed to Ms. Johansson after approximately one year of courtship. While no date has yet been set, a representative for the couple has relayed that they are "both thrilled."

This will be the second engagement for each: Mr. Reynolds was previously engaged to Canadian recording star Alanis Morrissette, while Ms. Johansson announced to shocked reporters last January that she and Democratic presidential nominee Barack Obama were also to be wed. Neither engagement produced a marriage.

[Photo: People: AP/Getty]

• Scarlett & Ryan Engaged! [People]

1. The Schlub Factor. Like Sam Raimi, who guided Marvel's previous blockbuster franchise Spider-Man to its own record openings in 2001, 2004 and 2007, director Jon Favreau is kind of a schlub — a normal dude who came up through the ranks and pretty much is his audience. He's not Ang Lee, whose misunderstood Hulk is disavowed to the point that its own studio is remaking it this summer (with another non-schlub, French action auteur Louis Leterrier), or even Bryan Singer, whose X-Men franchise coasted on star power before burning itself out at the hands of patronizer extraordinaire Brett Ratner. Favreau imposes a fan's vision and an indie mandate (i.e. character development, budget-mindedness) that works primarily because it threatens no one — neither the studio that paid for it nor the viewers spreading word-of-mouth months in advance and lining up around the block on opening weekend.

2. The Downey Factor. Repeat everything above, but substitute Tobey Maguire and Eric Bana (the miscast Hulk whose 2008 replacement, the relatively inaccessible Edward Norton, will likely suffer a similar fate). Robert Downey Jr. is a smart, funny adult actor who appeals to men and women alike (especially women), while also an innocuous enough leading man who won't overshadow the brand among fanboys. He's also his generation's most powerful Hollywood comeback story; this guy was virtually uninsurable after his umpteenth drug bust six years ago cost him his role on Ally McBeal. His casting was about as brilliant as it gets.

3. The McDreamy Factor. Or: There was nothing else to see over the weekend. Sony says it's happy having done $15 million with Made of Honor, but it thought its Patrick Dempsey rom-com would pull in at least $6 or $7 million of what went to Iron Man — on the basis of counterprogramming alone. What it didn't count on was...

4. The Female Factor. Iron Man was more of a chick flick than most "experts" anticipated, which Variety noting today that women made up 38% of last weekend's audience. Again, Marvel can thank Downey, but it shouldn't forget leading lady Gwyneth Paltrow. Her presence likely accounts for at least $12 to $15 million of that opening windfall.

5. The Critic Factor. The film was arguably critic-proof, but no one can deny the taste- (and profit-) making influence of reviewers who pushed Iron Man to a 94% positive rating at Rotten Tomatoes. That is the stuff of franchise phenomena — Iron Man 2, here we come.

• WATCH VIDEO

He then reads aloud the original stage direction for the scene that would ultimately launch him to superstardom: the Risky Business "Old Time Rock N Roll" dance sequence, during the the shooting of which Cruise, just 19 at the time, got on all fours and waxed the floor to a slippery, high sheen to help facilitate his big, pantless entrance. More as it comes...

• Oprah.com

It makes all the sense in the world. Really! Just ask him.

"It's a lingering sensation," Korine told Defamer in a recent interview. "I just started thinking of images like nuns riding bicycles out of airplanes — doing tricks in the clouds and stuff. I couldn't figure out where that was coming from. So if I was going to tell a story with nuns jumping out of airplanes, what could it mean? And I thought, 'What if they had no parachutes? What if they just believed enough that they would survive?' It's the same way the impersonators willed themselves to be those people. Maybe both stories speak to the idea of faith and a kind of strange magic in things — wanting to be something other than who you are."

Opening today in New York and May 9 in Los Angeles, Mister Lonely is in part Korine's way of both rationalizing and perpetuating that magic. More immediately, it's the meandering tale of a Michael Jackson impersonator in Paris (Diego Luna) who steals away to a colony of other impersonators sequestered in a Scottish castle. Led by Marilyn Monroe (Samantha Morton) and her misanthropic husband Charlie Chaplin, the remaining characters evoke Korine's '90s antagonisms Gummo and Julien Donkey-Boy without leaning on their bleak dispossession.

"They had to be people who, in real life, I've liked and admired," he said, referring to an ensemble including Abraham Lincoln, the Three Stooges, Madonna, Queen Elizabeth II and Sammy Davis Jr. "Someone whose mythology I could bleed into the narrative of the movie. Or I could take Marilyn's depression or Sammy's sadism or Michael and his ethereal, bizarre nature and incorporate that into the storyline."

But their celebrity was essential, Korine added, hinting at a sort of accidental accessibility he hadn't achieved since scripting Kids in 1995. Most important was his conception of — or even his sympathy for — Michael Jackson himself. "Michael was symbolic of the world's greatest eccentric," he said. "Maybe somewhere in his story is the Greatest American Story Ever Told. It would take someone much smarter than me to tell that story or decipher it. But what I liked about him was what he stood for. He wasn't a man; he wasn't a boy. He wasn't black; he wasn't white. He just existed like a ghost to me. He was all of those things and none of them. I liked that idea."

Then there were the nuns, plummeting in prayer with powder-blue habits billowing behind them. Korine's friend and Julien Donkey-Boy cast alumnus Werner Herzog plays the wasted priest channeling God, urging them toward the miracle of survival. Korine hinted at the connections between narratives, but acknowledged only the sense in senselessness.

"There's not really a point to it," he said. "There hasn't really been to anything I've done. They're more just ideas. If I could express it in words, I don't think I'd film it. I'm trying to figure it out myself." Iron Man, eat your heart out.

What the hell happened to his chest hair? As the above diagram clearly demonstrates, Jack has always sported a generous amount of torso fur. But in yesterday's completely gratuitous towel sequence, he possessed not a single sprouting. Bald as a geisha! There's more: Later on in the episode, Juliet is required to shave Jack's belly as he preps for an appendectomy. Related? Not? And why do we never see completely gratuitous sequences of Hurley in the nuthouse wearing only a towel? Has Hurley's body hair been fluctuating, too? The mystery deepens!

[Screengrabs: squarehippies.com, superherofan.net]

• Lost [ABC]

WHAT'S NEW: Having achieved deafening critical and civilian buzz over the last week, the only remaining question about Iron Man is not if it will kill this weekend, but how it will kill. A close read of the historical record suggests the latest Marvel hero is in for at least an $80 million weekend (including last night's late screenings), but we think that's conservative — accounting for neither repeat viewings nor the Robert Downey Jr. Factor making this as much of an adult treat as a teen/fanboy orgy. We'd be surprised if it didn't break $60 million by Sunday and maybe even $90 million when the dust clears Monday.

Also opening (for what it's worth): Made of Yawner — ahem, Honor, starring Patrick... whoever. Indies of note include the Toronto '07 opener Fugitive Pieces, the coming- of- age- via- sweding- Stallone film Son of Rambow, and the Argentinian teen hermaphrodite drama XXY.

THE BIG LOSER: As long as he's wishing critics dead, we might as well get our money's worth: David Mamet's Jiu-jitsu saga Redbelt isn't so bad, but we expect Iron Man to vanquish its testosterrific charms in the weekend's qualifying rounds before moving on to the more saccharine, sinewy Dr. McDreamy and Co. Come to think of it, the Sony conglomerate as a whole will be missing Spider-Man right... about... now.

THE UNDERDOG: We'll be hearing a bit more from the filmmaker later today, but writer-director Harmony Korine's comeback Mister Lonely is a maverick wack-job of the highest order: A Michael Jackson impersonator (Diego Luna) runs off with Marilyn Monroe (Samantha Morton) to a Scottish colony of other celebrity impersonators, while a drunken priest (Werner Herzog) exhorts a troupe of flying nuns a hemisphere away. Infinitely warmer than Korine's previous directing efforts Gummo and Julien Donkey-Boy (what isn't?), it's no less hypnotic, funny and confounding.

FOR SHUT-INS: New DVD's this week include The Golden Compass, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, 27 Dresses, the reissued Sarah Jessica Parker/Helen Hunt masterpiece of 1985, Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, and the nifty microbudget drama from director Todd Rohal, The Guatemalan Handshake.

Are we overestimating Iron Man? Underestimating it? Will anyone but our mothers consider seeing Made of Honor in the next three days, if ever? Stake your claim to bragging rights by placing your bets below.

• Uma Thurman's Stalker Wooed Her With Doodled Harbingers Of Stick-Figure Doom [Defamer]

Another whisper (and our own preference) has Berney starting fresh at a new company underwritten with hedge fund cash. The latter would suit him well with Cannes on the horizon and Warners' decreasing overall interest in the volatile indie marketplace; the studio would gladly get out anytime, but we hear they're willing to move ahead with Berney if he's interested. We doubt it, particularly as a co-president with Cohen; he's been calling his own shots forever (quite well, we should add) and would be too attractive a prospect to new money with fewer strings attached. And Berney could bring along the majority of his staff, who would likely take pink slips under the WIP scenario.

In any case, the Picturehouse calendar doesn't bode well for any kind of longevity. Despite Marion Cotillard's Oscar win for La Vie en Rose, the bitter disappointment that was Run Fat Boy Run casts a longer shadow over what's looking like a pallid 2008. Most notably, Warners is reportedly unhappy with the all-star remake of The Women set for this fall. A source tells us the B-thriller Amusement could go directly to DVD. Additionally, with so much of New Line's infrastructure — much of which supports Picturehouse's distribution efforts — to be stripped by the end of July, the worst-case scenario has Picturehouse closing out with the Abigail Breslin vehicle Kit Kittridge: An American Girl on July 2 and Warners cleaning up the rest from August on.

Did we miss anything? Are you hearing different? You know where to find us either way.

There's trouble in paradise. Our spies have reported that Peter Jackson's The Lovely Bones has ceased filming due to a rift between the big man and his art director over the best way to depict Heaven. [...]

The Wellington crew are having a break while the creative differences are sorted.

Meanwhile, at the Speed Racer premiere in London, Empire reports that Bones cast member Susan Sarandon has expressed dissatisfaction with her character. "I play the comic relief, an alcoholic grandmother - my first grandma - but she doesn't really seem like a real grandmother because she has a lot of hair and jewellery and nails and liquor. I don't think I ever talk without a cigarette and a drink in my hand."

"Peter Jackson is really a nice guy and very interesting. It was really a very different way of working. We had a good time, I'm really curious to see what it's like because he kept pushing me to be more and more extreme and sometimes that's when you make your big mistakes so I'm not sure how it will come off - it will be interesting to see it from the point of view of the audience."

Portraying Heaven on screen is a far dicier proposition than, say, the Fires of Mordor—all those feathers, fluff, and pearly gates threaten to tip your vision too easily into the Realm of the Cheesy Afterlife. (Just ask the guy who thought sticking Robin Williams in a Monet painting in What Dreams May Come was a good idea.) Still, we have high hopes for any Jackson film, and we only pray he doesn't use this production to indulge his more volatile creative instincts, pushing a tray of painstainkingly hand-sculpted femurs and ulnas into his prop master's face, screaming, "These bones aren't nearly lovely enough!" before storming off to his trailer.

• Scoop! Lovely Bones Hits A Snag [flicks.co.nz via slashfilm.com]
• Speed Racer Premiere Report [Empire Online]

Among the allegations against Sheryl:

- Walking around naked, completely exposing herself to Boyce.

- Asking Boyce about the size of Boyce's boyfriend's penis.

- Asking questions about how she could have sex with Boyce's boyfriend, given his 7' height (he's a former NBA player).

- Using her forearm to gesture the size of Boyce's boyfriend's penis.

- Once saying "laughingly that her husband's (Rob) cockrings were broken," allegedly showing them to Boyce.

- Telling Boyce about her sex life with Rob.

- Talking about the size of her children's penises.

- After Boyce allegedly phoned to say she wasn't coming to work because she was sick, Sheryl allegedly screamed Boyce "got strep throat from sucking ni***r d**k. I mean black d**k."

It goes without saying that there exists a wide range of comfort levels one might enjoy with the household staff, and that not all of the help will share your enthusiasm for the Spanish-cedar humidor containing a prized collection of your husband's damaged cockrings. Still, these are some very serious allegations indeed; regardless of the case's outcome, the Lowes will forever be tainted by Boyce's ugly accusations, the phrase, "How about a baby's arm holding an apple?" echoing through our heads every time the couple appears at a Hollywood function.

[Photo: Getty Images]

• Nanny Claims Rob Lowe's Wife Sexual Harasser [TMZ]

The key part of the tape is Angelina doing heroin. She says, "Wow, this is really good smack - not that cheap crap that's been stepped on."

Of course, we're unfortunately obligated to put a muzzle on all the excitement by noting that the news source reporting the tape's existence is none other than The National Enquirer. But as our father always told us, those supermarket tabs are the only ones worth trusting. Why? They pay for things! Just like they're allegedly considering paying $70,000 to the owner of the tape for the exclusive. As an Enquirer source claims, "It appears to be from the 1990s, right before Angelina - then in her 20s - was breaking out in films like Gia and Girl, Interrupted." And even though watching people do heroin on camera generally makes us cringe, we admit we'd take screen shots of Jolie ride the white horse over Pete Doherty feeding kittens crack or Amy Winehouse snorting cocaine mid-performance any day.

• ALLEGED ANGELINA JOLIE 'DRUG TAPE'? [Starpulse]

Meg Ryan appeared on the special issue's third cover, following Jodie Foster and Cindy Crawford, in 1994. Happily married to Dennis Quaid and still enjoying that whole America's Sweetheart phase, Ryan was a natural choice. But as we all know, five years later Ryan entered an affair with Proof Of Life co-star Russell Crowe, which led to divorce, trout pout and making dirty movies. Oops. As for Mel Gibson, People's 1996 cover star, beauty gradually descended into bigotry and all kinds of sugar tit-laden anti-Semitic madness we just don't even feel like discussing in detail at the moment.

The very next year, none other than Tom Cruise and his uber-serious mug graced the cover. Officially adored by the world after appearing in Jerry Maguire the year before, Cruise was still married to Nicole and every woman in the country felt that Cruise truly "completed" them. But after hiring a divorce lawyer, a beard (in the form of Penelope Cruz), and a new wife, Cruise's beauty is now only recognized by those with OT-V clearance and above. And finally, 2004's issue featured a blissfully married Jennifer Aniston, who sadly spent most of her interview "laugh[ing] off speculation of then-husband Brad Pitt's rumored romance with Mr. & Mrs. Smith costar Angelina Jolie." Again, oops.

[Photo credits: People.com]

• KATE HUDSON IS PEOPLE'S MOST BEAUTIFUL COVER GIRL [People]

A clearly agitated and disoriented Paula then went on to critique both of Jason Castro's songs, despite the fact that he had only performed one. (Perhaps the rehearsal, actual taping, and that afternoon's Extremely Happy Hour lunch at Maggiano's had combined into a sort of colorful fruit-salad in her head.) While the mistake is a doozy, it's really the moments immediately following it that offered the most entertainment value: First, a hush fell, the likes of which the Karoakedome has never seen. Then, confused audience members, having determined that it was not they who were experiencing the pleasant side-effects of a Baja Fresh chicken salad with extra taco chips and Klonopin, began to whisper among themselves. It was Randy, God bless him, who finally broke the news, at which point Abdul readily copped to the fact that she had been seeing and hearing double. It's moments like these that lift Idol from the realm of the reality mundane, to those blissful, zonked-out heights we know it's capable of achieving. To infinity and beyond, Paula.

• americanidol.com

It's simpler than any of that; this whole thing comes down to a picture of a 15-year-old looking like she just got the shit fucked out of her. And if there's anything America loves more than a war, it's teenagers fucking.

And a culture war about teenagers fucking? Sign us (and Bill O'Reilly and Hilary Duff and the women of The View and...) up! We should have seen it coming last week when 14-year-old Taylor Momsen was seductively featured in her underwear on the cover of New York Magazine's Gossip Girl issue. Not to be outdone, the gang at VF — expert flesh-spotters from waaayyy back — coaxed their own peek at the bare back of a billion-dollar Disney franchise, adding signature flourishes of bedhead and smudged lipstick. To hear Cyrus tell it in VF, it was an "artful" touch by her photographer, and "you can't tell Annie Leibovitz no."

Subtle rape inferences aside, Disney can tell Annie Leibovitz no, and a few hundred million dollars' worth of Hannah Montana franchise decline will only illustrate how quickly the company would have interceded had it had the chance. The kicker, of course, is that the plunge is inversely proportionate to our interest in seeing Miley Cyrus (and Taylor Momsen, Hayden Panettiere, Lindsay Lohan and, years ago, Brooke Shields and God knows who else before her) appearing rode hard and put away wet. Is it right? Is it wrong? It doesn't matter, because teenagers fuck.

In fact, we were once teenagers fucking — underage, illegal, the whole thing — and we recall this being an issue then as well. The social critics who decried us fucking were helpless against our hormones and the mass-culture monolith that endorsed it all the way; the Miley Cyrus case reaffirms that dynamic more than a decade later. Except now, faced with the most mainstream "perversion" yet, a little more intellectually honest approach is required.

For starters, nobody was exploiting anybody — at least not any more than VF would have otherwise. A publicist probably blew it somewhere along the line, but Miley Cyrus is 15 — at least a year older than her target demo — and she knew what she was doing. She made a choice, and her apology was not for offending her fans but rather for acknowledging that, again, teenagers fuck. She is a teenager, and if she's not fucking yet, then she will be. This is not debatable. Naturally it would be criminal, but like millions of other law-breaking, fucking teens, she and her partner(s) will gleefully do it anyway. Hopefully they use protection.

Also, teenagers fucking is a billion-dollar industry. Juno, for example, would not have been a lucrative, laureled darling of both the Christian right and the hipster left had she and Paulie Bleeker not A) fucked and B) kept the baby they conceived. Superbad was a more pointed argument for the appeal of teenagers not only fucking, but fucking well. Then there's Gossip Girl and the cult of Britney, the latter of whose teen sexuality only spiked as a cultural commodity after she became a mother in her 20s. Crazy! But as the previous generation's iconic teenager fucking — with a partner like Justin Timberlake, natch (yes, guys are also teenagers fucking) — that's part of her brand.

Finally, while we respect the values and basic laws protecting minors from sexual abuse and exploitation, we do not think one photo or the tone of those around it compromises social order the way, say, a polygamist sect or a basement full of kids made with one's own daughter might. This is Miley Cyrus growing up in public like hundreds of teens before her and countless more to follow. She's a sexual creature at 15, just like the rest of us were, are or will be. Hannah Montana has its own universe, and if teenagers don't fuck there, great. Here, however, teenagers fuck, and love it or hate it, that's the world we crave. It hardly seems like news.

Other ruminations from the Desk of Diablo: "Fred 62 is so good," (now that we think about it, that's the first time we've ever heard anyone actually say that) "Universal is gonna break my kneecaps if I don't deliver soon," "WAHHHH," and "I want champagne, a cigarette, and someone looking directly into my eyes." If these all sound to you like T-shirt-worthy slogans, it's more than just coincidence: Look for them bedazzled upon her upcoming, all-leopard-print Diablowear label—a clothing line for "those who aspire to the stripping-screenwriter lifestyle."

• diablocody [Twitter]

But isn't this the same festival that opened in 2006 with The Da Vinci Code? Just how bad is "bad"?

Look at it this way: Festival organizers knew what they wanted two years ago, announcing Da Vinci's selection in January of 2006 — nearly four months before it screened. Moreover, Sony knew what it had: A shabby, critic-proof, mass-market lark. Cannes' previous two openers were different — Lemming (2005) and Bad Education (2004) were announced April 19 and Feb. 21 of their respective years. Wong Kar-wai's 2007 opener My Blueberry Nights was locked in by April 19 of last year. We're pushing May Day, and the odds-on favorite for 2008 — which most observers were already surprised to see left off the competition slate last week — has yet to receive the festival's official blessing.

Director Fernando Mereilles was being either skeptical or falsely modest a few months back when he told one of us in a interview: "I'd love to take it to Cannes. I don't know if I'm going to get a slot, but I'd love to. It's a very dark story. But that's our goal. It's sold all over the world — there will be some support." Hey, man, you don't need to convince us. Also, we know there have been at least a few Miramax test screenings, and if the studio knows it has a misfire on its hands, the last thing it wants is to sacrifice it publicly four months before Oscar season.

If it were up to us, we'd just insist that Cannes get Indiana Jones 4 out of the way on opening night and let the rest of the fest speak for itself. But if it's not Blindness, what else should we be looking for? Four hours of Che? We'd take anything at this point.

UPDATE: Surely in swift response to our well-placed suspicions, the Cannes Film Festival just officially announced Blindness as its opening-night selection. Confirming other speculation in its same dispatch, the fest also named the Barry Levinson/Robert De Niro pairing What Just Happened? as its closing-night film.

• 'Blindness' Tipped to open Cannes [Variety]

Post-pregnancy depression isn't to blame for her suddenly slutty new image, nor are rifts in her marriage to Chris Martin. Not even regret over naming her kids after fruits and religious leaders led her to this female version of a mid-life crisis. The reason? Paltrow only recently realized something the rest of the world has known for quite some time: "People came over to watch me in the film Emma and I was like, 'Oh. My. God. I'm the worst actress ever.'" But Gwyneth really shouldn't be that hard on herself. Sure, she won an Oscar for weeping in a rowboat, and can certainly provoke emotion from us in varied performances (mainly discomfort and the need to squirm in our seats whenever she begins to fake-cry), but she should at least treat herself to a viewing of that stripper movie Lindsay Lohan won a Razzie for. That way she can safely remove that "ever" from her pity-me quotes in the future.

[Photo credit: Faded Youth]

• GWYNETH PALTROW DOES 'GQ' [Faded Youth]

It was, in no uncertain terms, a life-defining moment for the superstar, who'll no doubt address that and the many exciting developments that followed when he returns to Winfrey's show for a two-part special airing May 2 and 5. (The occasion: The 25th anniversary of Risky Business, a milestone only slightly less anticipated than Top Gun's own quarter-century birthday in 2011, marked by an historic reunion between Cruise and a 270-lb Val Kilmer on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon.)

• Tom Cruise returns to Oprah show [BBC]

WHAT'S NEW: Baby Mama and Harold and Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay will duel for the top spot, with the latter film predicted to ride its franchise basis all the way to No. 1. Its R-rating won't help against the PG-13 Tina Fey vehicle, however, which could lure its core female demographic to an opening take of $13 million. Harold and Kumar's estimates are all over the place — from $11 million to $16.6 million — so wager now for Monday morning bragging rights. Also opening: Errol Morris's Abu Ghraib doc Standard Operating Procedure; the Burt Reynolds gambling drama Deal; and French legend Claude Lelouch's suspenser Roman de Gare.

THE BIG LOSER: Talk about dump-and-run: A-listers Hugh Jackman, Ewan McGregor, and Michelle Williams are hiding in plain sight in the "thriller" Deception, which we didn't even know existed until Variety revealed Fox was throwing it on 2,000 screens this weekend. And the critics love it almost as much as last week's Pacino-Bomb 88 Minutes; with 6% favorable ratings currently at Rotten Tomatoes, the film "was made to be forgotten," writes Onion AV Clubber Scott Tobias.

THE UNDERDOG: We're of two minds about Helen Hunt's directorial debut Then She Found Me. Yes, the sex in the film is quite terrible, and yes, the story lapses perhaps too eagerly at times into rom-com convention. (First mistake: casting Colin Firth.) But! Hunt's story of an adopted, baby-craving New Yorker (Hunt) whose husband leaves just as her birth mother (Bette Midler) reenters her life has way more going for it than we'd thought — Midler, for starters, whose meddling, mendacious mommy is one of her most modulated performances in years. Paired with Hunt, their timing, vulnerability and overall chemistry are as worthy as any of the Fey/Poehler maternity schtick anchoring Baby Mama.

FOR SHUT-INS: You'd be crazy to stay indoors this weekend, but still: New DVD's include Cloverfield, Charlie Wilson's War, The Savages and the most heavily anticipated TV revival of at least the last seven days, Laverne & Shirley: The Complete Fourth Season.

So are you with Team H&K or Baby Mama in the Battle of the Middling Spring Comedies? Will you roll the dice on Deception? Will you trust us on Bette Midler? Go ahead: Now tell us how to spend our weekend.

Yes, via Videogum, this is the cock that has dominated the talk-show circuit and even provoked an epistolary Battle of the Sexes today between pro-dick VF.com contributor Lizzie Hurlbut and anti-dick Movie City News editor David Poland:

LH: I guess my point here is that I actually thought Jason Segel's penis played an important role in some of the film's key scenes. When Sarah shows up to dump him, he's fresh out of the shower, the towel drops, and he's standing there literally stripped bare, vulnerable, exposed. And she rejects him. OUCH. Rock bottom, baby. Naked and dumped. Toss in the fact that an unexpected visual of a penis incites full-on surge of awkwardness for a gal, and you're feeling precisely what that scene was trying to evoke: horrifying, awkward vulnerability.

DP: Really, Lizzie ... how does a woman react to her ex's junk parading around while she's trying to break up? Would he think she would find it attractive? Would she see it as anything remotely sexual? Would she actually try to keep from having eye contact with it? That's where the big laughs live—in behavior that the audience identifies with ... whether it's a flesh-covered punch line or not.

And with that, dear reader, we will never ever ever mention motherfucking Forgetting Sarah Marshall or Jason Segel's cock again on the p