By Albert Samaha
By Steve Weinstein
By Devon Maloney
By Tessa Stuart
By Alison Flowers
By Albert Samaha
By Jesse Jarnow
By Eric Tsetsi
Same place, same digging for subtext when I learned what was bubbling under the surface of the Ricky Gervais comedy The Invention of Lying, mainly because it was sliced right out. "There was a caveman scene," co-writer/co-director Matthew Robinson volunteered. "It was a parable for the entire film, with Patrick Stewart narrating. But we couldn't get it into fighting shape in seven minutes. It cost three and a half million dollars, so it's the most expensive DVD extra in history!" The CG wild boar alone cost more than an entire season of The Hills.
The subtext of The Damned United—the new bio-drama about a charmingly loony British football coach—was laid out for us by its bright star Michael Sheen at a whole other event. The high-minded Sheen said that in pretty much every Peter Morgan–written film, "one character is Theseus going through the labyrinth and the other is the Minotaur, waiting for him in the center of it." Are you with me, Heidi and Spencer?
I spent the rest of the week caught in the labyrinth while running from Lindsay Lohan at about a dozen parties and waiting for Lady Gaga at 15 or 20 other ones. (By the way, Gaga might drop her poker face when she finds out that a children's book accompanied by a CD that she recorded a song for, pre-fame, will actually be coming out soon. They might even use her real name!)
The Warholesque creature would have been spewing blood with delight at an event last Friday—an Andy-related art show in a storefront at the Chelsea Hotel, with a big "Prime Real Estate Available" sign posted outside. Inside, the place was coated with tin foil, so I felt like a giant turkey, especially as people came at me wielding 30-year-old press clippings about their most recent achievements. Onstage entertainment was provided by the dashing duo Whore's Mascara, who've added a female singer and two dancers they picked up on the subway, all cavorting to lyrics like, "There's a dance party up my butt tonight." And there's even room for a VIP area.
But the gay nightlife event of the year was the grand opening of Club 57, the new Saturday-night thingie at Providence via the Rockit/Key Klub team, Tony Fornabaio and Brandon Voss. The three-floor club—which is very Gothic-church-meets-upstate-pancake-house—was filled with swarms of well-groomed men prancing, dancing, and downing eight margaritas. And suddenly, I'm an HK queen!