Celebs come out in full force for the Rufus Wainwright concert at the Hollywood Bowl...Why was Jake Gyllenhaal so shy at the songfest? Plus, we tackle your e-rants and cyber-raves!
Hilton and Spears blabbing tomorrow, a sex act by a major boob-tube star caught in the coat check of a Hollywood record store later in the week (it’s so delicious, worth the wait, promise), but today, just how a lotta H-town was having a gay ol’ time! Too fey fer words.
Sunday night at the Hollywood Bowl, renegade singer (and Brokeback Mountain collaborator) Rufus Wainwright channeled Judy Garland to various levels of success. R.W. interpreted the drugged-out icon magnificently (i.e., on his own mucho talented terms and not just a mimicking) until his voice faltered—and instead of powering on, in whatever fashion he could, W simply apologized, repeatedly, and kind of stumbled continuously in front of the big-ticket crowd. Such the letdown.
Was this the reason Jake Gyllenhaal, in his pullover and baseball cap, kept crouching further and further down in his seat, the longer the show went on? Rod Stewart and Debbie Reynolds, who were both wearing bullet-proof blondie-locks that certainly looked as if they could have been styled by the same hairspraying Judyite, were more stalwart. You could just feel their old-school willing for Wainwright to bolster up and carry on. Didn’t happen.
Jerod Harris/ZUMA Press
Jimmy Fallon was simply too busy getting mauled by screaming little-girl fans to pay attention to the wholly unhetero dynamic nearby, but CAA’s humpy Bryan Lourd stood steadfast by R.W., praying to the homo heavens above, I’m sure, for Rufus to pull out his trademark stiff upper sass. (Six degrees of icon status: Lourd is the father of Reynold’s granddaughter, as he used to be Carrie Fisher’s partner.)
Back to that seat-sliding Jakey-love. Do you think Mr. Gee was simply too embarrassed that he was seen with the same company as he had been that morning? You know, the equivalent of being caught with the same outfit at two events—something, I’m sure, reported girlfriend Reese Witherspoon would have been horrified by (indeed, could that have been what J 'n' Reese were gabbing about at the post-Bowl do my E! chum Marc Malkin winked to?). Why, there, in the middle of this guy posse, just a few boxes over from Fallon, were J and Jamie Lee Curtis and the same good-lookin’ hunk o’ dude meat J.G. had breakfast with that ayem.
Just another insane Wainwright fan, ya think? Or are you scrambling for other explanations? I wouldn’t, if I were you. You’d have better luck pilfering the protesters to come.
Do you think it might hurt to be asked, in America Ferrera's case, if there should be more "unattractive, overweight" guys on TV? How very Maria Menounos of you! Why even ask the question when you could have just hissed, "You are a giant javelina!"
Dear Politically Circumspect:
The woman’s on a show called Ugly Betty, for heaven’s sake! I can’t ask if there should be an Ugly Bruce? Jeez.
Can you please clarify this Nicole Kidman spacey issue? I gotta hand it to you for being brave enough to risk your life to print this for us. But I don't get it. Are you saying drugs, alcohol, emotional overload—what was she wacked on?
Dear Windy Inquisitor:
Life post-Tom, darling, it takes little more than that.
Is there some sort of gay etiquette that keeps you from outing Toothy Tile and his closeted ilk? Like a pink wall of silence, or something?
Dear Swampy Swishy:
I prefer to think of it as a chartreuse shield of barely there morals, heretical as such a dynamic might be in this biz.
You were once considered edgy, but now you're just stodgy. The Blind Vices may serve to titillate some, but you're so worried about being sued they're indecipherable. Are you only interested in being a rich queen? Or would you rather be a revered icon? You could be both if you quit running scared.
Dear George Clooney:
Darling, did that motorcycle accident mess you up that badly? Sure are a grump today! Hey, can I help it everybody thinks you're Toothy Tile?
Dear Det. Damning:
Ouch! Hey, darlin’, I actually think G.P. got far more interesting once she decided to procreate—and usually it’s so the other way around. Ain’t G.P., though, not really that close, either. Think far more bombshell—in a lotta ways.
Lisa O'Connor/ZUMA Press.com
First time sending in a BV guess. You previously hinted Toothy Tile was born (and lives) directly north of Orange County, California. Someone on the message board keeps insisting that T.T. is Ryan Gosling, who was born in Canada. Can you either exclude Ryan Gosling or say that T.T. was born in L.A., which is directly north of O.C. I don't know how this person thinks Canada is directly north of O.C., but I am tired of listening to the arguments.
Dear Message Bored:
You bet, babe! Ain’t Ryan, though what an utterly exquisite guess, I must say. Think ever so slightly less butch and a tad (or more) closer down from Canada.
I think you should be flattered that Mischa Barton's mom, Nuala, is so concerned about your influence on her daughter’s reputation. I asked my teenage kids who Mischa was, and they said, "She's the drunk girl, you know, like Tara Reid." Out of the mouths of babes...
El Paso, Texas
Dear E! Legal Dept.:
Margot, above, and her kids said it, not I, so leave me alone, already!
Phil Han/ZUMA Press
Dear Sausage Cop:
Perhaps. After I yanked him away from the humpable heiress, I said, "What a great dress she has on, huh?" Blankly, Jon replied, “What dress?”
Dear Marked Man:
Not a bad guess, but wrong. As his moniker suggests, Flamboyant Floyd is out of the closet and openly gay.
When I first read your insults about Amanda Bynes and her too-much makeup, I thought you were being way harsh....Then I saw her on Rachael Ray. I have never seen such dark roots and so much eye makeup in one sitting! She is such a beautiful girl, why is she doing this to herself? I don't get it! P.S.: Love ya! Never miss a column!
Dear Mandy Make-Under:
Not sure either…Maybe the gal’s trying to look older for a role? The Britney Spears Lifetime biopic? Tone down the self-tanner and eyeliner already, Bynes-babe!
Krista Kennell/ZUMA Press, Phil Han/ZUMApress.com
Regarding everyone's favorite obsession, Toothy: Two guesses here…Eric Balfour or Haley Joel Osment?
Dear Ice-Cold Canuck:
So no to both, boyfriend. T.T.’s way more well known than your first guess and considerably older than your second suspect.
Is Flamboyant Floyd none other than E!'s (once) own Robert Verdi?
Dear Tulsa Try:
No, but F2 does actually appear on E! during red carpet coverage. It’s none other than Carson Kressley, such the darling outspoken one, love him!
(1) So, who dumped who in the Heath and Michelle thing? (2) What chemical do you think is in the ever present lollipops Britney's lugging around these days?
Dear Double Duty:
No (printable) idea what the ef went down between Heath and Mich, but Heath’s reportedly already out chasing tail around NYC, so we think Michelle’s the party in mourning. And Britney? We'll let Nicky Hilton Rothschild answer for us: