Men who stare at George Clooney
By Brian D. Johnson - Saturday, September 12, 2009 - 0 Comments
George Clooney, staring at me
Missed a whole day of blogging. Here’s my excuse. Yesterday I saw four movies, went to a George Clooney press conference and ended the night dragging my tired butt to a George Clooney party in the Glass House, a swanky modernist mansion on the Bridle Path—the millionaire’s row in Toronto’s north end. I should clarify that George and I weren’t exactly partying together. In fact, he left almost as soon as I arrived, while Jeff Bridges, his co-star in Men Who Stare at Goats, lingered late, ensconced in conversation with a young woman. And the goats stayed late—there were some cute goats in pens on the red carpet dressed in T-shirts that read “stop staring at me.” There were also young women serving drinks who wore the same T-shirts. I’m not sure which was more cruel. George wasn’t wearing the T-shirt, but he might as well have been, because he gets stared at constantly. And I have to confess I’ve been seeing far too much of George lately. The staring has to stop. This afternoon I went to another press conference at which he was the main attraction. Today’s was for Jason Reitman’s Up in the Air, which is shaping up to be the hit of the festival so far. George, meanwhile, has become TIFF’s amiable superstar mascot. We love George. We all love George, even though he won’t grant us interviews or dish about his personal life. And George loves us, because, we’re nice, but not too nice. Unlike that unruly male journalist in Venice (his previous stop), we don’t rip off our clothes at the sight of him. And at a press conference, George behaves like the perfect dinner party guest. He’s Mr. Charm, like a cool Vegas cat working the room, yet without the sleaze. It’s as if he’s gone to movie-star school and taken Debonair 101. He’s charismatic, self-deprecating and funny. If this acting thing doesn’t work out, George could do stand-up comedy without breaking a sweat. In response to an idiot journalist who asked him to create a Facebook page, he shot back: “I would rather have a prostate exam on live television by a guy with very cold hands than have a Facebook page.” Oh dear, more grist for that scurrilous gay bachelor gossip. Continue…
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The genius of Justin Timberlake
By John Intini - Friday, May 8, 2009 at 10:20 AM - 10 Comments
How an ex-boy band Britney survivor dodged all the punchlines and got the last laugh
Justin Timberlake was a global brand when he showed up on Saturday Night Live in December 2006 with a cheap suit, cheesy beard and a strategically placed cardboard box. But in two minutes and 37 seconds, the pop star reached a whole other level. In addition to an Emmy and more than 35 million downloads, the skit, a holiday music video parody, in which Timberlake advises dudes on the perfect gift to give your lady—a “d–k in a box”—was crude, but earned the former Mouseketeer a lot of cred. He also proved that night to be one of SNL’s best hosts in years by appearing in . . . no, by being the funniest part of nearly every skit. Fast-forward to November 2008: Timberlake shows up on SNL again, this time in heels and a leotard, dancing with Beyoncé to Single Ladies—another instant Web sensation. After that turn, some New York media types pleaded with Lorne Michaels, SNL’s producer, to hire the pop star full-time. Timberlake, who now has a standing invite whenever he’s in NYC, is hosting SNL on May 9. Chances are, by the time you read this, his latest skit has already gone viral.The fact that anyone is even talking about Timberlake is remarkable. This is, after all, a guy who spent seven years with ’N Sync and dated Britney Spears, the kind of credentials that might guarantee someone a spot on the The Surreal Life. And yet, several years since his band broke up (and 14 since he and Mickey Mouse parted ways), Timberlake has positioned himself atop a respected pop culture empire that spans music, film, TV, even fashion (his latest collection earned industry nods at New York Fashion Week in February). He’s a boyfriend to beautiful women—the latest, Jessica Biel—and in crowning him America’s most stylish man, GQ credited him with single-handedly bringing back fedoras, sweater vests, three-piece suits and beards. He’s the modern-day equivalent of the Rat Pack, all rolled into one skinny-jean-wearing guy from Memphis who used to have frosted tips.
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Beyond the buzz around Brad
By Brian D. Johnson - Friday, September 5, 2008 at 1:31 PM - 2 Comments
Hitting the keyboard for a quick update on an insane day. In the course of few hours, my schedule of on-on-one interview schedule includes Ricky Gervais, Renee Zellweger, Spike Lee and John Malkovich. So far I’ve just done Gervais who was utterly charming, even when I interrupted his seamless flow of wit with an asthmatic coughing spasm. “Bronchial asthma,” I gasped, grabbing a water bottle. “Don’t worry. It’s not contagious.” Offering to thump me on the back, which wasn’t necessary, Gervais filled the awkward interlude with an anecdote tabout how he was choking once in a restaurant and a friend shouted, “I don’t know the Heimlich manoever!”—as if to absolve himself in advance of any responsibility if Gervais choked to death.
two dudes in black t-shirts
A quick update on movies at TIFF. So far my favorite, hands down, is Jonathan Demme’s Rachel Getting Married. I’m not alone in this. But everyone seems surprised that Anne Hathaway is so darkly brilliant as the acerbic heroine, a woman who goes straight from rehab to her sister’s wedding, where she creates havoc. “I didn’t think she had it in her” is the line I’m hearing a lot as Oscar buzz builds around her performance. I don’t know. I’ve always liked Anne Hathaway, whether in Brokeback Mountain or in Get Smart. And the movie itself, which has a hurtling, train-wreck energy—Monsoon Wedding meets Celebration—is exhilarating. Continue…
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Photo Gallery: Toronto Film Festival 2007
By Jeff Harris - Friday, September 14, 2007 at 5:23 PM - 0 Comments
The stars just seem to shine brighter north of the border. Exclusive pictures of…
The stars just seem to shine brighter north of the border. Exclusive pictures of celebrities on the red carpet and in their own habitat (aka hotel rooms) at the 2007 Toronto Film Festival. Check out Matt Damon, Jennifer Garner, George Clooney and Brad Pitt — erm, with an itchy nose.
