Hollywood.TV is your source for celebrity gossip and videos of your favorite stars! bit.ly – Click to Subscribe! Facebook.com – Become a Fan! Twitter.com – Follow Us! Kate Walsh was spotted leaving a salon in Beverly Hills. The beautiful actress teased all the paparazzi as she arrived to her car when she noticed that she got a parking ticket and said she should’ve run out in a towel to pay the meter! Then says that could’ve been bad or good! And, we must agree with all the paparazzi when they all responded they wouldn’t mind that! Kate is such a tease! Hollywood.TV is the global leader in capturing celebrity breaking news as it happens. Launched in 2008, we capture all the latest news, exclusive celebrity interviews, star videos and hot celebrity gossip from around the world every minute of everyday. HTV is on the streets 24/7, at all the industry events and invited by the stars to cover their every move in Hollywood, New York and Miami. Hollywood.tv is currently the third most viewed reporter channel on www.youtube.com YouTube with almost 400 million views, and our footage is seen worldwide! Tune in daily for all the latest Hollywood news on www.hollywood.tv and http like us on Facebook! F21A267D
Hollywood.TV is your source for celebrity gossip and videos of your favorite stars! bit.ly – Click to Subscribe! Facebook.com – Become a Fan! Twitter.com – Follow Us! Kyle Richards and Lisa Vanderpump, stars of the Beverly Hills Housewives, are not going to be starring in a sex video any time soon. Kyle laughs at the thought and Lisa says it would be a very short video. Which Housewife would you like to see in their own video? Hollywood.TV is the global leader in capturing celebrity breaking news as it happens. Launched in 2008, we capture all the latest news, exclusive celebrity interviews, star videos and hot celebrity gossip from around the world every minute of everyday. HTV is on the streets 24/7, at all the industry events and invited by the stars to cover their every move in Hollywood, New York and Miami. Hollywood.tv is currently the third most viewed reporter channel on YouTube with almost 400 million views, and our footage is seen worldwide! Tune in daily for all the latest Hollywood news on www.hollywood.tv and like us on Facebook!
The masseur suing John Travolta for sexual battery in a Beverly Hills hotel is admitting a major hole in his shocking story – that the date he claimed the actor groped his crotch – January 16 of this year – is wrong. John Doe #1 still maintains the attack happened, however. Travolta’s lawyer has insisted from the beginning that he was in New York City during the alleged massage gone awry, proving it with flight records . The anonymous accuser’s account of the incident remains the same, however, but in a significant development, he now says it took place earlier . “It was a miscalculation,” one source claims about him claiming the wrong date. “The lawsuit will likely be amended, but it doesn’t change the facts.” Meanwhile, the Atlanta resort hotel where John Travolta stayed at when he allegedly sexually assaulted a second masseur has been put on notice. The hotel is preserving its surveillance video as evidence in the lawsuit filed by the man, also unidentified and also seeking $2 million in damages. “The hotel has been notified by the masseur’s attorney to preserve the surveillance video of the time when Travolta stayed there,” a source said. “The surveillance video will be crucial evidence in the case because it shows Travolta going to the spa the next day after it is claimed the incident occurred, looking for the masseur, because he wanted to see him again.” “This is all detailed in the lawsuit. Travolta was told the masseur wasn’t available and he left. The masseur was extremely upset when he left Travolta’s room, which would have been captured on the camera in the hall as well.” “The hotel has indicated that they will preserve all evidence in the case, including the surveillance video, and all electronic communication regarding Travolta. They are standing by the masseur,” the insider says. Management of the hotel have met with staff and placed them on a strict no-press lockdown on the subject, with the threat of losing their job. According to the lawsuit filed by the masseur in Atlanta: “Travolta suddenly turned on his stomach with his legs wide open with a full erection. He then tried to force Doe Plaintiff #2’s hand on Travolta’s scrotum.” “Then, Travolta started to grab, rub and caress Doe Plaintiff No. 2’s upper thighs and buttocks.” “Travolta still had an erection and wanted his abdominals done but Travolta’s erection was in the way and he refused to have his penis covered by a sheet of a pillow case cover.” “Travolta started masturbating about 15 minutes left in the session, and Doe Plaintiff #2 said he had to go.” A third accuser, identified as Fabian Zanzi , has also come forward, saying Travolta sexually harassed and propositioned him on a cruise ship. [Photo: Pacific Coast News]
It’s dangerous business to begin a movie with a voice-over monologue introducing “a long tale of women dressed in black.” Run, while there’s still time! Yet it’s a testament to director and actress Nadine Labaki’s gracefulness she pulls off this story as well as she does in Where Do We Go Now? , a fable set in a fictional town, presumably in Lebanon, where Christians and Muslims live together in bumptious accord, if not in complete harmony. Actually, the women – those aforementioned creatures dressed in black – get along famously, gathering regularly at the same café for all manner of gossip and chitchat. It’s the men who can’t hold it together: They’re always on the brink of fisticuffs and worse, each group expecting only the worst from the other. Don’t look now, but somebody filled the church holy water fonts with blood – must be the Muslims! Goats and chickens running amok in the mosque? Got to be those pesky Christians! The women are always suffering because of the men: As the movie opens, they stride toward the local cemetery en masse, their procession orchestrated as if it were a Pina Bausch routine, with somber, stiff leg movements and rhythmic breast-beating. The graves – Christians on one side of the burial ground, Muslims on the other – all bear pictures of the women’s lost men, people who have caused them a great deal of sorrow. The problem, as Labaki and her co-writers Jhad Hojeily and Rodney Al Haddad make clear, is that the men just can’t stop fighting. The village also happens to be located in an area riven by violence – it’s surrounded by land mines, which, in an early scene, kill a hapless goat. (The event is played for laughs, not pathos.) Meanwhile, a tentative romance brews between doe-eyed café proprietress Amale (Labaki, a sultry and winning presence) and local handyman Rabih (Julien Farhat), who’s doing some renovation work in her establishment. She’s Christian, he’s Muslim, and their union will be symbolic if it ever gets off the ground. But again, those men! They just won’t listen. The women eventually hatch a plan to keep peace in the village, but tragedy strikes regardless, making their lot even more challenging and wearying. You can see where Labaki is going with all this: If women ruled the world, there’d be no more war. It’s a darling idea, and Labaki does all she can to keep the proceedings entertaining – the picture is dotted with whimsical comedic touches and even includes a smattering of spontaneous Umbrellas of Cherbourg -style musical numbers. It also features an ensemble cast made up largely of nonprofessional actors, and they can be quite charming to watch. For a picture about centuries-old infighting and suffering, Where Do We Go Now? really is pretty cheerful. But its occasional entertainment value aside, the picture is also blithe to the point of being flimsy. This is Labaki’s second feature: The first was the 2007 Caramel , an engaging and visually lush picture set in a Beirut beauty shop, the perfect setting for a very different sort of story about the complications of women’s lives. Caramel is a delightfully fizzy picture, but oddly enough – or perhaps not – it cuts much deeper than Where Do We Go Now? It’s far less sanctimonious, and it defines some of the very real challenges modern women face in the Middle East: Even though its characters feel they’re free to shape their own futures, there are certain restrictions – put in place by men, of course – that threaten to hold them back. One character in Caramel is engaged to be married and has to find a solution to prevent her fiancé from learning that he isn’t her first. You could argue that her plight is nothing compared with massive wars fought on religious grounds. Then again, it’s a man’s pride she’s trying to protect, and she’ll do what it takes to preserve his illusions. Labaki clearly understands the connection between the larger battles and the small ones – it’s just that her ideas come through more subtly and effectively in the beauty-shop movie than in the war-zone movie. She doesn’t need exploding land mines to get her point across. Follow Stephanie Zacharek on Twitter . Follow Movieline on Twitter .
Comedian-turned-director Bobcat Goldthwait has always displayed an incredibly dark sense of humor in his work behind the camera, from his 1991 alcoholic birthday party performer debut Shakes the Clown to bestiality-themed rom-com Sleeping Dogs Lie to World’s Greatest Dad , in which Robin Williams plays a high-school English teacher whose son’s death becomes a way for him to realize his unfulfilled dreams of being a writer. But no matter how black the comedy, these films had warmth to them, too, and the possibility of things getting better and characters, however painfully, changing and growing. That’s not the case in God Bless America , Goldthwait’s latest effort, an overly bleak film ready to write off the world and go down in a blaze of gunfire, both middle fingers raised. Joel Murray plays Frank, a divorced father and depressed office worker who gets laid off and diagnosed with a terminal brain tumor all in the same day, providing enough push for him to finally load up his revolver and set off on the murderous spree he’s been dreaming of for years. “I know it’s not normal to want to kill,” he muses in the opening voiceover, “but I also know that I am no longer normal.” When making his first hit, of a bratty teenage reality show star named Chloe (Maddie Hasson), he picks up a surprise sidekick named Roxy (Tara Lynne Barr), a smart, alienated high schooler who thinks that what Frank did is the best thing she’s ever seen. The two partner up and Bonnie and Clyde their way along a bloody road to nowhere while working out the logistics of who it is they’re targeting. Frank hates people who are inconsiderate, who are rude and who take pleasure in making fun of others. Roxy hates more specifically — NASCAR fans, people who high-five, Diablo Cody. As for who Goldthwait hates, you get the sense it’s all of the above and more — anyone who watches American Idol, anyone who competes on American Idol, morning show radio hosts, cable news blowhards, the Tea Party, parents who overindulge their children and people who talk during movies (the last leads to the film’s most rewarding scene). God Bless America sets these figures up to mow them down, and while there’s a minor satisfaction to be taken from seeing these bloody revenge fantasies brought to life — take that , Westboro Baptist Church! — the film’s judgments come so easily, its targets portrayed as so one-dimensional that it feels like a cheat. The world in which the film is set is so universally monstrous that it deserves to be blown up, but it’s an embittered, exaggerated take, a giant straw-man argument. When Frank flips on the television, all he sees are people making fun of a mentally disabled reality show contestant. When Frank gets the news of his illness, his doctor takes a call in the middle, from his car dealership. And when Frank tries to talk with his daughter about her upcoming weekend with him, she tries to extort a present from him in exchange for coming. It’s only Roxy to whom Frank can relate, with her kewpie doll face and ability to rant about the greatness of Alice Cooper. The scenes of Frank and Roxy hanging out are the film’s only soft spots, their relationship a gentle but precarious mix of paternal and platonically romantic. Roxy eggs Frank on and keeps him going, masterminding their murderous binge, but she’s rarely seems solid in the way that Frank does. She’s a figure of wish fulfillment, a vessel for what feel like the filmmaker’s direct complaints with the world as well as his fondnesses, a teenage girl who loves Star Trek and throws herself at our resistant protagonist, who is hypersensitive about being perceived as a pedophile. Visual inventiveness isn’t Goldthwait’s strong suit as a director, but God Bless America does represent a step forward there, with stand-out moments including an overhead shot showing just how close Frank is to his noisy neighbors or a failed attempt at walking away from an explosion, action hero-style, without looking back. Goldthwait is best and most brutal at recreating the worst of TV — an early scene in which the insomniac Frank flips through the channels includes savage and dead-on takes on Fox News, Jersey Shore -style reality clashes, energy drink commercials, Jackass and, yes, American Idol. Sure, it’s a line-up that would be enough to make you want to shoot somebody, but also those aren’t the only things on air. God Bless America only wants to see the worst in people — in fact actively seeks it out in order to be disgusted, and that feels almost as bad as the behavior the film is critiquing. One of the few characters who’s let off the hook is the boyfriend of Frank’s ex, a cheery, dumb and genuinely well-meaning cop who spots our hero waiting outside his former wife’s house and stops by to say hi. When asked by Roxy whether Frank wants to kill the man, he tells her no, “I want him to suffer.” It’s only a sucker who’d stick around to live life in this film, and that’s too bitter a pill to be swallowed. Follow Alison Willmore on Twitter . Follow Movieline on Twitter .
It’s a tough life being a Broadway standby — knowing a part backward and forward, exhibiting months, even years of patience while literally waiting in the wings for your chance to play the role you’re backing up for the star of the show. On the bright side, at least now you’d have an entire film telling your story — one for which Movieline is pleased to present a first look ahead of The Standbys world premiere this weekend in New York. Directed by Stephanie Riggs, The Standbys introduces viewers to a few of the performers who’ve made livings — and eventually, in some cases, made names — in some of the most thankless positions in all of theater: Standby and understudy. The documentary opens the Tony Awards Film Series this Saturday at the Paley Center in Manhattan; below, have quick glimpse at the film, featuring the sobering insights of Broadway icon Bebe Neuwirth. Here’s more about The Standbys and this Saturday’s screening; we’ll keep you up to date about a theatrical and/or video release as events warrant: This dramatic documentary takes a behind-the-scenes look at the lives of performers rarely glimpsed by audiences. These performers, known as “standbys,” remain backstage, prepared to go on at a moment’s notice. In this evocative behind-the-scenes documentary, the at times heartbreaking and hilarious lives of Broadway’s understudies and standbys are finally brought into the spotlight. “The Standbys” follows three undiscovered performers for several years through their ups and downs, struggles and triumphs, onstage performances and private lives. When these standbys are finally given the chance of a lifetime, anything can – and does – happen. The film features never-before-heard stories from industry insiders and celebrities who reveal the unimaginable struggles these under-appreciated performers endure as they wait in the wings for their shot at a dream that may never come true. The Standbys screening will be followed by a talk-back panel of Tony Award-winning Broadway stars who got their start as understudies or standbys. [Panelists include Tony Award Winners Katie Finneran and Cady Huffman, Merwin Foard, Ben Crawford, Alena Watters and director Stephanie Riggs.] The Standbys follows actors Ben Crawford (standby for Shrek), Merwin Foard (standby for Gomez in The Addams Family) and up and comer Aléna Watters (standby for Anita in West Side Story). Other interviewees include: Jerry Zaks, Bebe Neuwirth, Brian D’Arcy James, Cheyenne Jackson, Sutton Foster, David Hyde Pierce, Katie Finneran, Nelle Nugent, Michael Riedel, Zachary Quinto.
Los Angeles traffic is famous for getting rotten when big happenings hit town, but George Clooney ‘s fundraising bash for President Obama promises to make the Friday commute even more dreadful. And so, in the grand tradition of traffic-paralyzing presidential visits of the past (or: Obama-jams!) and 2011’s infamous “Carmageddon” (remember that?), POTUS’s social visit tomorrow to Clooney’s canyon pad — for a $40,000-a-plate shindig expected to raise $15 million for the Obama re-election campaign — has a name: Starmageddon . “Obama at George Clooney’s house: Neighbors brace for starmageddon” screamed a headline yesterday in the Los Angeles Daily News/Silicon Valley Mercury News ), kicking off a catchword frenzy. The visit to Clooney’s Studio City home marks the president’s first non-studio trip to the Valley, notes the paper. As for the traffic madness that may or may not ensue, Los Angelenos with places to be should avoid the following places on Friday evening: LAX, where Obama lands around 6pm; Studio City/Laurel Canyon north of Ventura Blvd., where Clooney’s party will have street closures in effect from 5pm to 8pm; and Beverly Hills later that night, where the President is reportedly staying. And if you’re lucky enough to live close to Clooney, be prepared to show I.D. to access your own home from 8pm to 10pm that night. “Starmageddon” is a fitting name for the star-studded Hollywood-meets-Washington affair — Clooney and Obama, joining forces for the future of America. If there was an asteroid hurtling toward earth, is there any question that these two could save us all? I mean, obviously. Then again: I can’t be the only one imagining Clooney dancing animal crackers up and down Obama’s belly as the plaintive wailing of Steven Tyler fills the air. (Do you think it’s possible that anyone else in the world will be doing this very same thing at the very same moment tomorrow night?)
John Travolta has been sued by a masseur (male masseuse) who claims that the actor tried to have sex with him during a recent massage. According to the shocking lawsuit, Travolta saw the masseur’s ad online, and scheduled an appointment for $200 an hour. Then it all went haywire. The accuser did not know who booked the appointment, but followed instructions and met up with a black Lexus SUV, which Travolta was driving. Travolta and the masseur, who says he saw Trojan condoms in the center console, drove to the Beverly Hills Hotel and went to Travolta’s bungalow. The suit claims Travolta stripped naked , appearing semi-erect. The masseur says he told Travolta to lay down on the table and the first hour went without incident. Unfortunately, there was a second hour booked. Then, according to legal documents, the 48-year-old actor began rubbing the masseur’s leg, touched his scrotum and the shaft of his penis. The masseur claims he told the movie star that he does not have sex with his clients, but Travolta was completely undeterred … allegedly. Offering to do a “reverse massage,” he added, “Come on dude, I’ll jerk you off!!!” The suit alleges that Travolta then masturbated and told the masseur he got to where he was “due to sexual favors he had performed when he was in his Welcome Back Kotter days,” and that this is the nature of the beast. “Hollywood is controlled by homosexual Jewish men who expect favors in return for sexual activity,” Travolta said, according to the lawsuit. The masseur, who is only listed as John Doe, claims Travolta called him a loser, but then doubled the hourly rate and sent him on his way. The suit seeks $2 million plus punitive damages. [Photo: WENN.com]
Facebook.com – Become a Fan! Twitter.com – Follow Us! Jackie Collins is looking fresh on the red carpet for Brit Week at Beverly Hills’ Beverly Wilshire Hotel, and she reveals she’s thrilled to grill British journalist and host Piers Morgan, for whom she’s got some pretty hot questions…like what his favorite sexual position is and whom he fancies. The steamy author reveals she prefers erotic sex over bondage, and that she’s enjoying all the partying that accompanies Brit Week in Los Angeles. Collins contends that those Brits who say they hate Hollywood are the ones who didn’t make it in Hollywood. Ouch!
Genevieve Cook, an ex-girlfriend of President Obama, shares some intimate details about their relationship in a new book about the Commander-in-Chief. Barack Obama: The Story , by Pulitzer Prize winning journalist David Maraniss, is the most thorough account of the President’s life not written by Obama. Vanity Fair published excerpts Wednesday. While The Story contains no sordid, shocking tales of impropriety, it portrays Obama as extremely ambitious. Obama’s autobiography Dreams From My Father , while generally true, makes him look less calculating and motivated by his own career, in other words. Barack Obama: The Story also goes into much greater detail about his early life, including romantic relationships, such as that with Genevieve Cook. Using Obama’s writings and ex-girlfriends’ diaries, Maraniss paints a picture of Obama as an intense, conflicted and sometimes brooding intellectual. It was that intelligence that drew Cook to Obama after a chance meeting at that East Village apartment gathering, according to Maraniss’ book. The future President, who in 1983 was a recent graduate of Columbia University, began chatting up the assistant teacher at a party that Christmas. Obama apparently earned Cook’s endorsement, as they went on a date just days later and she spent that night at his tiny Manhattan apartment. While sitting on an orange beanbag chair, the two bonded over the time each spent in Indonesia as youths, then exchanged phone numbers. “I think maybe he cooked me dinner,” she wrote. “Then we went and talked in his bedroom. And then I spent the night. It all felt very inevitable.” Cook remembers that Barack Obama also used to spend Sundays in his room wearing a sarong, drinking coffee and solving crossword puzzles. She described the room as a “a mixture of smells that so strongly speak of his presence, his liveliness, his habits … running sweat, Brut spray deodorant, smoking, eating raisins, sleeping, breathing.” And while Cook wrote about Obama’s “sexual warmth,” she felt he sometimes kept her at arm’s length … and when she said “I love you,” he often responded “thank you” rather than “I love you, too.” Barack first met his future wife, First Lady Michelle Obama , in 1989. Follow the link for Vanity Fair’s full excerpt from Maraniss’ book .
