From director Clint Eastwood, Invictus tells the inspiring true story of how Nelson Mandela (Morgan Freeman) joined forces with the captain of South Africa's rugby team, Francois Pienaar (Matt Damon), to help unite their country.
Newly elected President Mandela knows his nation remains racially and economically divided in the wake of apartheid. Believing he can bring his people together through the universal language of sport, Mandela rallies South Africa's underdog rugby team as they make an unlikely run to the 1995 World Cup Championship match.
What happens when, in Adam Sandler-speak, "one fine looking Jew" vegetarian and meta-bigot comedienne reaches the end of the line in a five year dalliance with an Italian meat cooking Christmas loving late night TV show host?
They milk it as the biggest free publicity stunt in the anals of show biz lore, packaged as one of the most hilarious spoofs ever played by a We Are the WorldA-list cast of characters formerly sidelined by the WGA.
It's side-slapping to watch the big names who participated. And yet somehow, I can't help but feel badly for Kimmel and Silverman. Clearly, something is whacky in relationshipland. Apparently, I'm not the only one feeling their pain.
Sarah Silverman and Jimmy Kimmel began dating shortly after she stepped on the stage of a Hugh Hefner roast and lambasted Kimmel as "fat" with "no charisma." Lovely way to kick off a romance. Tender and gentle in an "I'll stomp you so don't mess with me" kind of way.
In November 2005, Silverman flirted with other men at the wrap party for her money-making movie, Jesus is Magic. Kimmel made fart jokes at Silverman's expense.
The couple was living together in May 2007 when Kimmel trotted Silverman out on Jimmy Kimmel Live. He outed her unshaven legs, complained about farts, and wondered aloud about the red stuff on her lips (it was lipstick) as if she had never before worn any in his presence. This, mind you, as a build-up to Silverman's famous skewer of Paris Hilton at the MTV Movie Awards and simultaneous Maxim cover debut. Silverman was poised to hit the big time and was coming into her own, yet Kimmel didn't seem particularly enthused or proud of his significant other's accomplishments.
Silverman either has an amazing sense of humor or she's the biggest patsy who ever walked the face of the planet. If my boyfriend treated me like that on national TV, I would have taken his puckered lips at the end of the segment and pushed them down his pudgy throat.
But what appears to be the final straw was yet to come. Kimmel publicly embarrassed Silverman on his show in October 2007 by insinuating she was a man and nipping her suggestion of marriage in the bud. At one point, Silverman dropped to her knees in mock proposal while Kimmel tried desperately to cut away to commercial. Nervous banter aside, the only one laughing was the audience.
I'm afraid what we are now witnessing is the beginning of the end. Silverman fired the first shot in January 2008 by getting Kimmel to play a video in honor of his fifth anniversary show. Her professed love affair with People's Sexiest Man Alive, Matt Damon, was an immediate Internet sensation, registering millions of hits and quickly raising her profile around the blogosphere. This week, in the spirit of I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry, Kimmel countered with his own musical spoof, professing undying love and covert shtuping with Ben Affleck, Damon's cohort and confidant.
Both Damon and Affleck are married to women and each of them is raising a child. Damon also helps raise a step-daughter. And as long as people want to start keeping tabs, the Silverman spoof is a rip-off. Check out Damon in these highlights from Eurotrip. Chalk up one for the Kimmel in this battle of lilting love.
It's wonderful to see the funny folk of Hollywood therapeutically hash out their problems through the production of jocular entertainment. Kind of in the vein of "If ya can't beat 'em, join 'em," Kimmel and Silverman are getting the last laugh on the tabloids and I say "good for them."
But what I see lurking behind their side-splitting antics is far from good. A sad spectacle of romance on the rocks. To their ingenious credit, these videos are the talk of the tabloids rather than their more obvious relationship blues.
Another end of an era. Glitterati across America are in mourning over the death of the unofficial Mayor of Hollywood, Johnny Grant. He was 84 years old.
Grant was unmarried. He did not leave behind any children. Some might say the entire town of Hollywood was his family. Grant was a human dynamo, a relic of a bygone time. Show business pulsed through his veins. He transformed a moribound event no one would attend into a world famous bells and whistle ceremony known as the Hollywood Walk of Fame. An actor himself, Grant may hold the record for hosting the most public events as master of ceremonies. He loved the spotlight, people, and hobnobbing with the powers that be. Johnny Grant was civic minded as well as patriotic. In the tradition of Bob Hope, he traveled overseas to encourage and entertain our troops.
I did not know Johnny Grant, nor did we ever meet in person. I'm sure he was the kind of guy I would have liked from the getgo. Last summer, I came across the hands and feet ceremony for Ocean's 13. Very early on in the video, an obnoxious paparazzo screams directions at Brad Pitt. Pitts's churlish reaction was not well received and event monitors quickly snuffed out a fire. Still, the harassment continued. Tensions started to mount. Johnny never missed a beat, not even when the front of his podium fell apart. He kept the crowd calm, put the paparazzi in their place, ad libbed when it was needed, and moved the ceremony along. Despite the common behavior of certain cameramen, the event remained quite classy.
I kept thinking to myself, Hollywood doesn't have a mayor. Who is this odd little man and why is he with all those glitzy Tinseltown superstars? He doesn't seem very glitzy himself. Yet anyone can see from this video that Grant evoked tenderness and respect from the highest echelons. I've never seen a man off the street so revered. Now, in his passing, I realize Johnny Grant was no ordinary man.
Go in peace and tranquility, little mayor of a town who will forever remember you as a man of great stature. May your embedded star in the Hollywood Walk of Fame serve as a beacon of light for all who dream of riches and immortalty.
As he once thought about Mickey Rooney, if Johnny can do it, anyone can.
Less than three weeks from the first primary election of 2008, celebrity presidential endorsements are hitting the big time. Oprah made her big splash for Obama last week after Streisand, Bill, Mrs. Rodham, and Chelsea went to bat for Hillary.
Before that, of course, we had Clooney, Halle, and Matty The Sexiest Man Alive for Barack. And before any of them hit the scene, way back over the summer, there was Taryn Southern in "Hot4Hill" and that spicy little Obama girl who got plastered all over TV. Suddenly, there's Chuck for "Huck," and Lieberman for McCain, not to mention Fred Thompson who is a celebrity in his own right. The other candidates have some Hollywood appeal as well, but apparently not enough to make the national news media stand up and applaud.
How can anyone help but notice all the Tinseltown draped over Election 2008? The parade of celebrity endorsements keeps going and going and going ad naseum like the Energizer Bunny in a bad Twilight Zone episode. Rod Serling could not have conceived of anything more terrifying, I mean, the thought of all these celebrities somehow influencing voters to cast their ballot for the celebrity's choice of presidential candidate is positively horrifying. Barbra Streisand is a wonderful entertainer with a voice like buttah, but honestly, what does she know about running America?
There's no sense in complaining. There are too many Americans who are too busy to pay attention to the presidential election and/or don't have the brains or interest to care. These are the same people who will vote for a candidate because Oprah tells them to, or because they want a minority in office, or because they like the way a candidate plays a guitar on stage. Forget about foreign policy, or ability to lead, or domestic policy....none of that actually matters.
It's gotten so bad that if a candidate hasn't gotten a celebrity endorsement of some sort by now, they might as well throw in the towel. Otherwise qualified candidates like Dodd, Biden, Tancredo, and Hunter (if you just said "WHO?" out loud, you really have not been following the election and don't deserve to cast a vote in the primary) haven't got a prayer. These men lack the necessary star power, will not pass their screen tests, and mark my words, will start dropping like flies after February 5th.
This is the state of politics in 2008. A hundred years from now, someone will look back on this moment and designate 2008 as the year politics became undone. Slowly, slowly, ever since Reagan became president, America has been drifting into a Hollywood mindset, equating the ability to lead a nation with the ability to open a movie, electing presidents the same way they become fans of movie stars.
Quiet! That twilight zoney music is playing faintly in the background. Oh, no, wait, it's the theme song from Back to the Future.
Might as well have some fun with this. Like a celebrity parade before it passes by, everyone on the other side of the baricades should stop and watch the action. Yeah, that's the ticket. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. Think of each video as an overblown Macy's Day Thanksgiving Parade float.
Just be careful to avoid getting subliminally slimed.
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