Blaster and Commander

It's Blind Vice Friday! Plus, who’s Rusty Crowe bitchin’ at now? Hint: He’s slightly above the level of hotel concierge, this time round. And Justin Timberlake is, apparently, a very good and very baddie boy. Also, great breast implants in the sky, Sarah Michelle Gellar does it X-rated style, too salacious!

Two mouth-worthy movies are out soon. One’s Ridley Scott’s American Gangster with Russell Crowe and Denzel Washington. The other’s Southland Tales, an apocalyptic farce starring Seann William Scott, Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson, Justin Timberlake, Sarah Michelle Gellar, Mandy Moore and just about every other freeze-dried star in the City of Fallen Comebacks.

Both flicks are noteworthy for very diff reasons—the latter film mainly so because the onetime small-screen idol Gellar turns in a brilliantly sardonic performance as a clueless porn princess who loves to “get f--ked hard,” as she puts it, but who nonetheless refuses to “do anal.” Very ladylike she is. Will Buffy fans scream in shock? Hilarious stuff, and Scott’s primo, per usual; Timberlake, as an Iraq-blown soldier, is chillingly on target. Can’t say the same for Moore. What the ef’s goin’ on with her career, already?

Far more even overall is Ridley Scott’s Gangster, the devil-as-businessman story of an African-American gangster and drug lord from Harlem, played by Washington with his usual deadpan delivery. More fascinating, fer sure, was Crowe as the friendless, foulmouthed and ornery detective hot on Washington’s trail. Crowe grunts in real-life even more than he does in the movies. Impressive.

We asked him after an Australians in Film screening Tuesday night why the hell he’s so good at playing misunderstood—and angry—loners. He leveled eyes with us, just for a sec, knowing full well we were angling in on the Aussie baddie’s phone-throwing legend, among other feisty deets in the brawler’s dubious dossier.

“Because I always give my all to the job,” Mr. C replied evenly. Okay, well now we know the fakery season is here. ‘Cause if Ben Affleck’s suddenly peachy with the same journos who used to fry his butt for copy every day and Crowe’s actually figuring out how the heck to answer not so subtle inquiries with aplomb, darlings, Oscar season is officially so on!

Nevertheless, Crowe was "ef this" and "ef that": He chastised Fox executives for not making up their minds on whether or not to proceed with his screenplay continuing the Master and Commander story, and he also ridiculed Martin Scorsese for choosing, what he considered to be, the lame-butt title Casino for what was essentially his own American gangster movie.

“He must be kicking himself,” Crowe crowed.

Are Justin Timberlake’s press-pissy ways rubbing off on his ladylove, Jessica Biel? Sure seemed that way at the Hell-Ay premiere of Darfur Now. This doc job about the genocide in the Sudan is the same flick that brought out Brangelina at the New York showing. Organizers were all excited Biel was coming and were quite certain the curvy babe would do press. Why wouldn’t she? What celeb doesn’t love having their name attached to serious, charitable causes and talking about weighty subjects instead of their couture choices?

“We sent a car for her,” one worker bee said. “So, she better talk!”

But apparently, Jess’ comped chariot hit major traffic on its way in from Brentwood. She was running way behind, and peeps were debating whether to hold the screening for her. They did. And Jess finally arrived, 45 minutes late, with an entourage of a half-dozen peeps. The guest of honor posed for pics and dashed inside without saying a word to us reporters waiting patiently on hand.

Also on hand were Thandie Newton and Taylor and Zac Hanson. Yes, the guys who sang "MMMBop" way back then are still around. Who knew? And they’re actually pretty worldly and well spoken. “It’s an emergency, what’s going on in Darfur,” Zac said, when we asked what brought them out to this par-tick premiere. “It’s not a cause; it’s an emergency. And it’s something that we need to choose to face...History will decide and judge those who didn’t face problems as severe as what’s going on in Darfur.”

On an emergency note, Isaac, the eldest Hanson bro, recently had a blood clot in his lungs but is recovering nicely. “He got a clean bill of health, and we’ve gotten back on the road, amazingly,” Taylor said. In fact,  Isaac joined the guys on stage Wednesday night in WeHo, where they performed at the Halloween Carnival.

Does it surprise anyone that Hanson has a big gay following?

Humor me here. I know everybody cares about the late advice columnist Ann Landers as much as they do Liz Taylor (both broads had terribly similar coiffure karma, actually), but just gotta say something. With her Midwestern, incomparably direct talent, Landers was known for advising millions with her BS-cutting common sense. And Amy Dickinson, Landers’ milquetoast replacement at the Chicago Tribune, appears to have little respect for the soul-directing institution on which she’s coattail riding.

When Dickinson’s latest p--sy-assed advice—this time to a grandson who was being abused by an inheritance-dangling, insult-slinging grandma—included a cozy, issue-avoiding letter to the bitch instead of a respectful, direct don’t treat me that way response, I wrote to Amy saying that Ann, were she alive, would have been appalled to death. “Ann Landers is already dead,” Dickinson snit-responded. “So sorry.”

Obviously, she's not.

Which boob-tube player played around a little too much, if you catch our bambino-on-the-way, postdiddling drift? Uh, let’s just say we're ready to provide the clues as to his identity far more than he’s stoked to start those support checks, so, get ready to cash in, already—it’s Blind Vice Friday!