Celebrity news & gossip from the world’s showbiz and glamour magazines (OK!, Hello, National Enquirer and more). We read them so you don’t have to, picking the best bits from the showbiz world’s maw and spitting it back at them. Expect lots of sarcasm.
October 1956: Actress Jackie Collins reflected in her wardrobe mirrors while posing in her London flat. (Photo by John Pratt/Keystone Features/Getty Images)
Jackie Collins – October 4, 1937 – September 19, 2015.
Jacqueline Jill Collins was born in October 1937 in Hampstead. Her father, Joseph Williams Collins, was a theatrical agent whose clients included Shirley Bassey, the Beatles and Tom Jones. Her sister Joan was four years older. She was expelled from the Francis Holland School for girls at the age of 15 after which she threw her school uniform into the Thames (she later sent her daughters to the same school!) Around this time it has be said that she slept with Marlon Brando who was 29 at the time.
Helen Mirren has been talking with Bella Blissett for the Daily Mail. When not selling Rubber Gloves, Dame Helen works for anyone company. Can you guess which one it is – and, no, the Mail didn’t see fit to label it’s article an ‘advertorial’:
The 70-year-old actress has four Emmy awards, five Baftas and two Golden Globes to her name, and received a damehood in 2003. In sum, she’s the epitome of a ‘national treasure’…
In sum, she’s the epitome of a ‘national treasure’…
Ok, we get it. Move on…
“I’m pretty laissez faire about my beauty routine… Yesterday, I whacked on L’Oréal Paris Excellence Age Perfect Hair Colour in Light Beige Blonde [shade 9.31] for 25 minutes, then washed it off – job done.’
Who is her ‘beauty hero”?
“I love cleansers and body creams that make me feel clean and fresh, but my absolute favourite is L’Oréal Paris Age Perfect Classic Night Cream.
Blissett reveals the answer to our question:
Helen is a spokesperson for L’Oréal Paris Excellence Age Perfect Hair Colour, available nationwide
For a moment Bono was worried. No less a colossus of diplomacy than Sir Elton John had received a personal call from Russia’s President Vladimir Putin.
At which we all scream: ‘Knew it! Knew he was gay! No-one that upset by homosexuals can be straight! The topless shots! The love of close-contact wrestling! Putin was the last to know.’
But then the vision of new alliances gets murky. The story goes that Elton thinks he met with Putin but the Putin he met with was an imposter, a Sham Putin – a man only pretending to be the macho leader. Well, so says his spokesman. On Instagram, Elton thanks the Russian:
“Thank you to President Vladimir Putin for reaching out and speaking via telephone with me today. I look forward to meeting with you face-to-face to discuss LGBT equality in Russia.”
But Mr Putin’s spokesman, Dmitry Peskov, says no meeting ever took place. “Putin did not have a conversation with Elton John and, more importantly, we did not receive any kind of offer about a meeting,” Mr Peskov told reporters. “If there will be such a wish, I don’t doubt that the president will be ready to meet, including with Elton John.”
No word yet from Mr Putin, aka jobbing Putin ‘look-alike’ ‘@RocketMan’….
Is Legend, the big screen biopic about black-and-white British gangsters the Kray Twins, any good? Benjamin Lee answers that question in his review for The Guardian. He says:
It’s a disappointingly shallow take on a fascinating period of time and leaves us sorely uninformed, as if we’ve skim-read a pamphlet. The legend might live on but Legend certainly won’t.
He gave it just two stars from a possible five. The film’s marketing team saw it and slapped it on the official posters.
…in a stroke of brazen genius, the marketing department tasked with selling the shoddy true crime tale decided to embrace the mediocrity of my review and found a devious solution. Note: focus between the ears.
I come from the underground. I am never comfortable in the middle of the stream, flowing in the same direction as everyone else. I think people assume that’s where I want to be, famous for being famous, because as part of what I do there is a high level of showing off. But my instinct is always to resist the pull of the obvious. It’s not easy.
Trends come along and people say, ‘Follow that trend’. There’s a lot of that around at the moment: ‘Be like Sasha Fierce. Be like Miley Cyrus. Be like Rihanna. Be like Lady Gaga. Be like Rita Ora and Sia. Be like Madonna.’ I cannot be like them – except to the extent that they are already being like me.
I have been so copied by those people who have made fortunes that people assume I am that rich. But I did things for the excitement, the dare, the fact that it was new, not for the money, and too many times I was the first, not the beneficiary.
Rihanna… she does the body-painting thing I did with Keith Haring, but where he painted directly on my body, she wears a painted bodysuit. That’s the difference. Mine is on skin; she puts a barrier between the paint and her skin. I don’t even know if she knows that what she’s doing comes from me, but I bet you the people styling her know. They know the history.
I remember when one of the singers on the list of those who came after me first said that she wanted to work with me. Everyone around me is going: ‘You have to do it, it will be so good for you, it will introduce you to a whole new audience, you will make a lot of money’. No! It will be good for her; she will draw from everything I have built and add it to her brand, and I will get nothing back except for a little temporary attention. No one could believe that I said no, but I am okay on my own. I am okay not worrying about a new audience. If the fuck don’t feel right, don’t fuck it.
With this one, who I will call Doris, I thought she was trying on other people’s outfits: she’s a baby in a closet full of other people’s clothes, a little girl playing dress-up, putting on shoes that don’t fit. I could see what she wanted to be when I watched her doing something when she started out that was starker and purer. Deep down, she doesn’t want to do all the dressing-up nonsense; she loses herself inside all the play-acting.
Singer and actress Grace Jones arrives for the screening of the new film “The Missing”at the 54th annual Berlin International Film Festival on February 7, 2004 in Berlin, Germany. (Photo by Kurt Vinion/Getty Images)
The problem with the Dorises and the Nicki Minajes and Mileys is that they reach their goal very quickly. There is no long-term vision, and they forget that once you get into that whirlpool then you have to fight the system that solidifies around you in order to keep being the outsider you claim you represent. There will always be a replacement coming along very soon – a newer version, a crazier version, a louder version. So if you haven’t got a long-term plan, then you are merely a passing phase, the latest trend, yesterday’s event.
They dress up as though they are challenging the status quo, but by now, wearing those clothes, pulling those faces, revealing those tattoos and breasts, singing to those fractured, spastic, melting beats – that is the status quo. You are not off the beaten track, pushing through the thorny undergrowth, finding treasure no one has come across before. You are in the middle of the road. You are really in Vegas wearing the sparkly full-length gown singing to people who are paying to see you but are not really paying attention. If that is what you want, fine, but it’s a road to nowhere.
I look at Doris and I think: Does she look happy? She looks lost, like she is desperately trying to find the person she was when she started. She looks like really she knows she is in Vegas, now that Vegas is the whole entertainment world filtered through the internet, through impatient social media. I don’t mind her dressing up, but when she started to dance like Madonna, almost immediately, copying someone else, it was like she had forgotten what it was about her that could be unique. Ultimately, it is all about prettiness and comfort, however much they pretend they are being provocative.
Grace Jones onstage at the MTV Europe Music Awards, held at the Echo Arena on November 6, 2008 in Liverpool, England. (Photo by Getty Images/Getty Images)
Kate Moss often says to me that I am the only performer around at the moment who deserves to be called a diva.That gets us arguing, seemingly a little too serious if anyone hears us. I hate that word diva. It’s been so abused! Every singer given a makeover or a few weeks on a talent show seems to be called a diva these days! Christ almighty. Where’s the exclusivity? It’s so commercial now. For me, a diva is like the great opera singer, the great film star – out of reach, in their own world, with a real gift for invention, attention-demanding performance artists with a flamboyant, compelling sense of their own importance, so special and inimitable it verges on the alien. And of course the word is usually used to describe an apparently erratic female whose temperamental qualities, survival instincts, and dedication to perfection are seen as weaknesses, as self-indulgent, not a strength. So, Kate, I am not a diva. I am a Jones!
This is what I would say to my pupil: you have become only your fame, and left behind most of who you were. How are you going to deal with that? Will you lose that person forever? Have you become someone else, without really knowing it? Do you always have to stay in character for people to like you? Do you know that you are in character?
Doris, I would say fame is all well and good if you want to take it to another level. If you have some greater purpose. Me, I am just a singer, on one sort of stage or another, who likes to have an audience, but not all the time. Listen to my advice; I have some experience. In a way, it is me being a teacher, which is what I wanted to be. I still feel I could go into teaching. What is teaching but passing on your knowledge to those who are at the beginning? Some people are born with that gift. With me, the teaching side morphed into the performing side. It’s in there. And these are my pupils – Gaga, Madonna, Annie Lennox, Katy Perry, Rihanna, Miley, Kanye West, FKA Twigs and… Doris.
Grace Jones: if you ever get the chance, do see her live. She’s a force of nature.
World-renowned heavy metal legends Motörhead have turned their attention to your intimate pleasure with their own range of branded sex toys. Powerful classic vibrators and bullets are amongst the line up, each packing a powerful punch that captures the rock and roll lifestyle of the band perfectly. Prepare for the sort of mind-blowing orgasms you’d expect from the ‘loudest band on Earth’.
Established in 1960, Tower Records was once a retail powerhouse with two hundred stores, in thirty countries, on five continents. From humble beginnings in a small-town drugstore, Tower Records eventually became the heart and soul of the music world, and a powerful force in the music industry. In 1999, Tower Records made $1 billion. In 2006, the company filed for bankruptcy. What went wrong? Everyone thinks they know what killed Tower Records: The Internet. But thats not the story. All Things Must Pass is a feature documentary film examining this iconic companys explosive trajectory, tragic demise, and legacy forged by its rebellious founder, Russ Solomon.FacebookTwitterOfficial WebsiteDirector Colin Hanks Writers Steven Leckart Actors Russ Solomon, Michael Solomon, Heidi Cotler, Mark Viducich, Stan Goman, Bob Delanoy, Bruce Springsteen, Elton John, David Geffen, Dave Grohl Genre Documentary Run Time 1 hour 40 minutes Copyright to Production company
The X Factor is back. Simon Cowell is one step closer to becoming his own waxwork. Cheryl Cole remains the nation’s sweetheart (that nation being Assad’s Syria). Nick Grimshaw brings all the cool of a BBC DJ (nice!). And Rita Ora’s rapper lover Wiz Khalifa “developed a $10,000-a-month cannabis habit — after his mum got him hooked on the drug.”
Well, so says the Sun of the singer who opines: “There’s nothing you can do wrong when it comes to smoking weed.”
You sit on the sofa better. You watch telly better. You skin up better. And above all you negotiate better – we don’t get to know how much weed $10,000 gets Khalifa every month but his dealer assures us it’s a very, very good deal and the unique best quality stuff he supplies is harder to find than a story on Louis Walsh’s private life.
The Sun can reveal his mum started him on the drug when Wiz — real name Cameron Thomaz — was a teenager.
“Before I went to work, before he went to school, it was our way of bonding. We would smoke together. He got his habit from his mother. He would smell it coming from my room with me and my girlfriends. He always knew there was a good time going on because there would be laughter and a pungent smell.
“When he got older, he would steal the marijuana butts I would leave, and smoke them.”
“He was always really mature. Hence Wiz Khalifa. Wiz is short for Wisdom. Wisdom because he’s mature and Khalifa because it’s the name my father gave him. It’s Arabic for the leader or the keeper of the light.”
Which is useful. Because when you’re goofed and the bongs gone out, it’s good to know whose got the light.
Matthew Morettini let’s us compare and contrast three screen manifestations of Hannibal Lecter with this neat video
I always preferred the 1985 Manhunter, with Brian Cox as the terrifying Lecter. Anthony Hopkins reworked the character in Red Dragon and Silence of the Lambs before Mads Mikkelsen appeared as the psychopath in the TV series Hannibal.
Take a look at the video. Which one do you prefer?
In 1972, Italian singer Adriano Celentano belted out the No. 1 hit Prisencolinensinainciusol. You can sing along if you know the words but if you do you run the risk of sounds like a fool shouting at pigeons in the precinct.Adriano made them up as he went along. They sounded Englishy. He tellsAll Things Considered:
“Ever since I started singing, I was very influenced by American music and everything Americans did. I thought that I would write a song which would only have as its theme the inability to communicate. And to do this, I had to write a song where the lyrics didn’t mean anything.”
James Bond is a bit of wally, says Daniel Craig, the latest actor to make the character from Ian Felming’s books flesh and blood.
Craig has been talking to Esquire 007 in readiness for Spectre, the latest Bond outing:
“Austin Powers fucked it. By the time we did Casino Royale, [Mike Myers] had blown every joke apart. We were in a situation where you couldn’t send things up. It had gone so far post-modern it wasn’t funny any more.
The new Bond has “truth“, says Craig.
“He’s very fucking lonely. There’s a great sadness. He’s fucking these beautiful women but then they leave and it’s . . . sad. And as a man gets older it’s not a good look. It might be a nice fantasy — that’s debatable — but the reality, after a couple of months…
“[For a while] I did feel like, ‘I’ve got to look like I’m doing other stuff.’ But then it was, ‘Who for?’ So the public think, ‘Ooh, isn’t he versatile?’ [On Spectre] it was like, ‘I’m James Bond, for f***’s sake.’ It’s not a bad position to be in. I used to get asked all the time, ‘Don’t you worry that you’re going to get typecast?’ ‘And?’ I mean, talk about a high-class problem.”
Who doesn’t awant a full-size David Bowie pillow doll? Proxy Shop on Etsy is offering them for $400a pop.
The Lifesize David Bowie Pillow stands 66” tall and is the ultimate gift for a David Bowie fan’s home decor.
Sit this Bowie doll onto a daybed or sofa, against a wall as a soft sculpture artwork or on the floor as a makeshift chair.
Handcrafted from high quality printed fabric that is silky soft to the touch and backed with sturdy broadcloth, this tribute to David Bowie’s famous Ziggy Stardust costume design is an utterly unique addition to any Bowie fan’s home.
These life-size decorative pillows are all handcrafted and made to order.
Oliver Sacks has died. The metastatic melanoma finally took the life of the great neurologist and writer. He was 82.
Dr Sacks, most famous, perhaps for his book The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat – a look a case studies of peculiar brain patterns; the book’s name derived from the man who really could not differentiate between a hat and his wife – and Awakenings, which recounted Sacks’ work at New York’s Beth Abraham hospital with survivors of a forgotten 1920 epidemic of sleepy sickness.
You can read more of the prolific author on Flashbak.
Lord, one of hardest things about middle age is losing your heroes and mentors. May Oliver’s memory be a blessing. pic.twitter.com/UvzSQRnRGF
How to write like Stephen King – as in, how to physically write like Stephen King; the talent you’ll have to work on that yourselves:
As with most postulates dealing with subjective perceptions, the idea that prolific writing equals bad writing must be treated with caution. Mostly, it seems to be true. Certainly no one is going to induct the mystery novelist John Creasey, author of 564 novels under 21 different pseudonyms, into the Literary Hall of Heroes; both he and his creations (the Toff, Inspector Roger West, Sexton Blake, etc.) have largely been forgotten…
Yet some prolific writers have made a deep impression on the public consciousness. Consider Agatha Christie, arguably the most popular writer of the 20th century, whose entire oeuvre remains in print. She wrote 91 novels, 82 under her own name and nine under a nom de plume — Mary Westmacott — or her married name, Agatha Christie Mallowan…
As a young man, my head was like a crowded movie theater where someone has just yelled “Fire!” and everyone scrambles for the exits at once. I had a thousand ideas but only 10 fingers and one typewriter. There were days — I’m not kidding about this, or exaggerating — when I thought all the clamoring voices in my mind would drive me insane. Back then, in my 20s and early 30s, I thought often of the John Keats poem that begins, “When I have fears that I may cease to be / Before my pen has glean’d my teeming brain …”
My thesis here is a modest one: that prolificacy is sometimes inevitable, and has its place. The accepted definition — “producing much fruit, or foliage, or many offspring” — has an optimistic ring, at least to my ear…
TV Medium Colin Fry has died aged 53. The spiritualist, who appeared and made a handsome living from relaying impressions of messages from long/short-gone friends and family via programmes such as 6ixth Sense with Colin Fry, Psychic Private Eye and Most Haunted, had been diagnosed with terminal lung cancer back in April.
His manager David Hahn said: “Because of what he does (did surely?) he had no fear of dying”.
Anyone had a call from Colin, any flying objects around the house or non-alcoholic induced sense of the Fry presence? The perpetual tv’s very own Stephen Fry does not count.
No? Thought so.
Fear not, there’ll be another medium warming up to present Colin’s cold, sympathetic but very deadpan thoughts in half a failing heartbeat.
In readiness to shock to deadline on the corporate VMA awards, host Miley Cyrus appeared on Jimmy Kimmel Live with most of her breasts exposed.
Kimmel was thought by many to be one of the three remaining human being not to have seen Cyrus’s breasts. Miley is now actively seeking an audience with the Pope and Lord Lucan, preferably both at once to save time before she can move on to stage 2 of Operation Primary Sexual Characteristics and show us her massive beefy knob.
Kimmel was keen to know if Miley’s dad had appraised his daughter’s naked chest.
“My dad’s cool, because I’m sure he’d maybe rather me not have my tits out all the time,” said Cyrus. “But he’d rather me have my tits out and be a good person than have a shirt on and be a bitch.”
Those are a pretty limited set of life choices in the Cyrus household.
“You know what I’ve learned? It’s not the tit—are you allowed to say ‘tit’ on your show?”added Cyrus. “Humans aren’t afraid of the human breast. It’s the nipple that’s the issue…Like, I’m showing my boobs and no one has a problem, but the nipples are covered, so somehow that’s OK. So America’s actually fine with tits. It’s nipples they don’t like.”
Which is great news for Donald Trump’s presidential campaign.
All the animations seen in the music video were created in camera. No stopframe techniques, or computer super-imposing was used; what you see is what rolled off the camera. The animations in the side-on views were produced by the camera capturing the moving reflections from the mirrored carousels, and the animations in the top-down views were created by matching the cameras frame rate to that of spinning record. The transitions between each section of animation was created by simply cutting or wiping between the bits of footage.
The Human Centipede pipe, by Dustin Yunker, is the ‘hot box’ tribute to the film of that name. We’re not sure what end goes to your lips; but our therapist assures us that which end you choose will say a lot about you.
Amanda Palmer is eight months pregnant and painted brightly as she recreates Damien Hirst’s Verity statue to promote the New York Public Library’s children’s book campaign. Father of the bump Neil Gaiman helps her down from the plinth.
Jewish American singer Matisyahu did appear at Spain’s Rototom SunSplash music festival on Saturday. He sang his hit Jerusalem. Pro-Palestinian groups had called for him to be boycotted.
Monoculists with the local Palestinian Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions (BDS) movement accused the 36-year-old of being a “Zionist” (filthy, filthy word) who supports the practice of “apartheid and ethnic cleansing”.
What craven and cowardly balls.
The show’s organisors t first conceded to the bigots. Then they saw the light.