OK, maybe I take one back: Cher. Yesterday, I noted that Cher was sniffing around Christina Aguilera's debut film, Burlesque, in which C.A. will play a novice singer at a nightclub, one possibly to be run by the Oscar-winning Cher). I immediately went to town on Cher's hotness factor, saying, well, that maybe professional bitch-eater Cathy Zeta-Jones would be better suited for the diva role.
In that same morning, I had earlier twittered that Adam Lambert's Count Dracula thing on Idol the previous night was a bit much for my taste—and that I thought Kris Allen killed it, opening-number wise, by being so humpy and accessible and real.
Fast-forward to flurries of complaints—the most heated being about gay icon Cher: "Ted, how dare you?" screamed Mikey. "You need to turn in your homo card to the front office right now! Cher could act rings around that little girl! Cher's name on top of the billboard will guarantee the box office, not Christina's. Shame on you! Apostate! Heretic! You need to go to Fire Island and reflect on your sins."
The Adam protectors were somewhat less at gale-force, but not by much: "Gasp!" twittered @damarselias right back at my ass. "Adam should win! Man. Adam rocked! Kris was OK, though. But Adam should still win!"
OK, I get it. Both Cher and Adam (already, stunningly) have sizeable loads of die-hard fans. I don't doubt either figure's art—not in the least. And I'll go even further on the Cher factor: I, in a way, was buying into the misogynistic notion that an older gal can't be a vital part of a happening pic starring a younger talent, and well, that's just crap.
Streep completely stole it from Hathaway in Devil Wears Prada, remember? Cher could kill this movie, too, should she decide to. So do it, babe!
(But I ain't budgin' one bit on that damn vampire coat Lambert was wearing. That's R. Pattz's department, Adam, not yours.)