By Jared Chausow
By Katie Toth
By Elizabeth Flock
By Albert Samaha
By Anna Merlan
By Jon Campbell
By Jon Campbell
By Albert Samaha
Tom ballsily thanking his publicist before anyone else was one of the high points of those kooky Golden Globe Awards, among many Hollyweird moments worth straining to catch: Tina Brown making a face on entering; Annette Bening praying in the audience; Faye Dunaway disapprovingly shaking her head when Courtney Love was announced; the utter gayness of so many of the American Beauty people; the way Pedro Almodóvar suddenly became Roberto Benigni; the category that pitted Peter O'Toole against David Spade; the reduction of Rubin "Hurricane" Carter to just another Hollywood schmoozer; the contention that Tumbleweeds was a comedy; and, mostly, the revelation that Barbra Streisandwho seemed absolutely transported by her own film clipswas inspired by "those monochromatic frames" of Akira Kurosawa. I'll have to take another gander at The Mirror Has Two Faces and see if it's more Rashomon or Seven Samurai.
At the Players Club tribute to Eli Wallach and Anne Jacksonwho are clearly inspired by Lunt and Fontanne via Stiller and MearaMagnolia somehow bloomed again when Jason Robards turned out to be one of the celebrity presenters. At the T. Schreiber Studio benefit, I asked the acting great if his deathbed rendition of that Aimee Mann song was, in fact, his singing debut. "My singing debut? It was only one line," he said, laughing. "Paul Thomas Anderson told me, 'Go ahead. We'll see what happens.' He's like one of my sons." Robards also likes his tumescent screen son Cruise ("I wish I could have spent more time with him"), and of course Eli and Anne, who were only upstaged that night by, sure enough, Stiller and Meara. At my table, the star was Betsey McCaughey Ross, who, in the midst of a discussion of fake jewelry, divulged, "My husband gave me fake bonds. I went to cash them in and they weren't worth the paper they were printed on." I bet Tom Cruise only gives out real ones.
Inspired by Kurosawa, I shot Forgive or Forget with that show's new host, Robin Givens, who I must say is fast and lively and even played along with jokes about her relationships with Brad Pitt and Donald Trump (who apparently wanted her). But Robin knows where the line is. During commercials, audience members kept chanting "Go, Robin!" and begging her to do that little chugalug dance, but wisely, she maintained her dignity and refusedthe sign of a true star.
On a jaunt down to Palm Beach, tra la, a glimpse through the hedges at Trump's magnificent Mar-a-Lago estate made me wish he wanted me. But the most fun to be had was in Fort Lauderdale, where the gay scene is diverse and friendly, and who cares if your trick has a mansion (or a trouser serpent)? Naturally, I chugalugged to the most extreme places, like the Coliseum, a dance club that's upbeat, sexy, and fraught with possibility, and Cathode Ray, a high-tech hangout with the fruitiest sports room in town. The Eagle is more about water sports; the back room has a lovely area where you can get urinated on, and not just by anyonemembers of the Rainmakers of South Florida have been known to, um, go there. In the bathroom, there's a sign for something called the Piss and Moan Club, under which, interestingly, another placard says "State LawWash your hands." But one bartender told me he'd really like to wash his hands of all those "twinkies" who come to the place and turn their noses up at all the wee-wee. "They're always complaining," he related, angstily. "They'll say, 'I was gonna suck his dick, but then he went and peed on me!' " Picky, picky!
The bodacious diva of bathroom jokes, Jenny McCarthy, is back and more of a pisser than ever. McCarthy recently played a prostie in the Kirk Douglas? Lauren Bacall starrer Diamonds, and now she stays closer to home as an actress in Stab 3, the movie within the movie in Scream 3. For a while, we were all screaming that this little vixen made Gwyneth Paltrow look underexposed. "I was in the danger zone," McCarthy admitted to me last week. "I got to the point where if I saw myself on television one more time, I'd feel myself going, 'Jesus, shut up already.' I took a year off and regrouped."