Charmed

(via Her Name Was Lola)

Stand By Your Man

Okay, okay, I'll cave. (As in Batcave.) I'll chat about Mr. Bale.

But first, let's get a non-maniacal image in our heads, shall we?

This is the face of someone about to begin major damage control.

I heart Laurie.

Christian Bale swears a lot in a loud voice and everyone looks at me. As if it's shocking that I would spend so much quality time with such a volatile personality. Or as if I might crumble upon hearing the news of his non-warm-and-fuzziness. (This is where your mom explains the difference between being a fan and actually having a relationship with someone.)

My heart is not broken over Christian Bale's rant. I'm not going to suddenly boycott his movies or burn my VHS of Swing Kids (the horror). Honestly, I'm really not shocked by it. At all. News broke of this verbal assault when it happened LAST YEAR (around the same time as his infamous family blowup). And he has long had a bit of a perfectionist-on-the-verge-of-a-tantrum reputation. So much so that they called him Tandy on the set of Metroland. Yes, before he was Batman. Or even the American Psycho.

Yes, folks, I do my research.

ASIDE: It's beat-up-famous-people week. Now people are questioning whether Michael Phelps should compete in 2012. What?! I don't have crazy medical/marijuana knowledge, but I'm pretty sure that it leaves your system after four years. I think it's time America took its chill pills.

Jerry Maguire says we live in a cynical world. I believe him. But I recently realized that I'm also very generous with giving people the benefit of the doubt. And that my cynicism is often just me taking the easy way out. If I'm hurt, it's so easy to write someone off as a jerk, even though he/she had no cruel intentions whatsoever. It's a defense mechanism. So I don't have to deal with the me side of the equation.

Who am I to sit down and assess whether a stranger's behaviour is justified? The "journalism" covering this is ridiculous. Both sides.

I'm not going to defend Bale's moment of rage. But I'm not going to define him by it either. More than anything, I'm creeped out that the tape was leaked in the first place. Not cool.

Let's just remember that Bale and Kermit the Frog have much in common. That he was a Newsie. That he has the cutest daughter ever. That he's brilliant at his craft. And that he's JUST A MAN.

I'm on Team Bale. Because everyone needs someone on their team, even when they're in the wrong. Maybe especially when they're in the wrong.

P.S. I still love Mel Gibson post-drunken tirade. I forgive all.
P.P.S. If you want to be really scared of Bale, watch Harsh Times. I had to turn away.
P.P.P.S No, I'm not going to link to the rant. You can Google it if you can't stand being the one person on the planet who hasn't heard it. I recommend listening to a remix of it. Or the one with Bill O'Reilly. But not if you're under 14. Kids, just say no to profanity. Keep those ears lovely.

It Happened Tonight: Nothing

It's pouring, contrary to yesterday's forecast of this evening. This is why weathermen scare me. They smile their perfect cheery smiles, look me in the eye, and lie to me. Sociopaths.

I thought I was going to a party tonight. But apparently, had I gone, I would have been the only one there. So instead of shooting the breeze with John Malkovich right now, I'm sipping tea and getting ready to watch the final Canadian Idol performance show (for my cute little Idol blog) before heading off to bed.

The plan is to maximize on sleep tonight. Because, tomorrow, for the first time in my 25 years, I'm going to an event that doesn't even start until after 11. On a weekday. I may be insane.

But would you risk the consequences of sleep-deprivation for a late night with Matt Damon? See, I would. And so I shall.

I really should watch a movie at the festival, instead of just hanging out with those who make them. Last year I watched I'm Not There, mesmerized by Cate Blanchett (and completely enamored with the casting choices of Bale and Ledger pre-Dark Knight). The year before, I saw my own name flash on the screen during the end credits before donning my Sleeping Dogs trucker hat (I heart swag) and catching up with a crew I have not seen since. And then there was Harsh Times. I just sat there alone, terrified of the man who would be Bruce Wayne. Not a fun one, folks. I'm sure I've seen more, but my brain is failing me right now. How rare.

Speaking of casting (I rock at the segue. I actually steered a conversation with "Speaking of calcium" last week), there a hilarious rumor started last week about Cher being cast at Catwoman in the inevitable Dark Knight sequel. But, hey, I bought Blanchett as Bob Dylan. So, really, I'm gonna stay out of this one.

Read the buzz over at MovieZen. (Cher has since denied this. But actors are like weathermen. They lie.)

And I'll blog again once Benicio Del Toro and I are besties.

The Wonder Twins Have Arrived!

And Brangelina fans rejoice.

Side note: I don't think I'll ever mesh my name with someone else's. I mean, what if I fall for a Fred? Fredine? Nafred? Uh, no thanks. Of course, if I'm famous, I won't have control over the matter....

So Angelina had her babies. Time stopped for the briefest of moments. And then news outlets went crazy. Because this thing called birth is new. Or at least long-awaited. It's like the sequel to Children of Men. Knox and Vivienne are somehow the hope of our planet.

I find it hilarious that magazines have to tell us that there's a wedding trend. Or a get-skinny trend. Or a baby trend. Because I'm quite certain that marriages, diets and childbirths are a reality in every season of every year, among the famous and non-famous alike.

But if you call Brad Pitt "honey," following trends isn't enough. If you're part of the elite superstar class, you must up the ante. Which is Oscar winners get married multiple times. Starlets compete for the most-emaciated award. And when the A-list get pregnant, they go for the multiple.

Check out MovieZen for my twin watch.