From Babe to Britney, stars' and staffers' true confessions
Not all shame is equal, so here’s a quick guide: 1 means you’ve seen The Anna Nicole Show; 5 means you’ve set your TiVo for a season pass; 10 means you are, in fact, Anna Nicole Smith.
GUILT-O-METER 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
The Selected Works of Kurt Russell
Theory of Russelltivity: The funkier the film, the hotter the Kurt. Oh, he’s foxy in such classics as Escape From New York or The Thing. But it seems a little pain heightens the pleasure. Begin the fantasy with Overboard, an ’80s-era Taming of the Shrew in which Kurt’s so buff you forgive him for convincing amnesiac Goldie Hawn she’s his wife/domestic slave. Kurt’s Overboard mullet is so lively and well tended it almost acts. (In one scene, the mullet seems truly conflicted over its role in coercing Goldie into boiling a chicken. Magic time!) In Tequila Sunrise, Kurt’s a cop torn between duty and drug-dealing best buddy Mel Gibson. He’s terribly dashing, whether throwing several orange juices on his boss or making whoopee with Michelle Pfeiffer. But does he value friendship over the Job? Spoiler Alert Circa 1988!! Yes.
Finally, the best: Tango & Cash. Kurt’s a maverick cop partnered with Sylvester Stallone’s slick cop, and Jack Palance is a baddie who fondles mice in the film that answers the question, What’s it like to watch Kurt and Sly banter homoerotically? Fast-forward to 32:12 — the opening shot of Kurt and Sly’s naked prison shower scene — and rejoice! — Gillian Flynn
Ever since Apple launched its music store, I have sold my dignity, 99 cents at a time. Years of buying music-snob CDs have given way to an unending string of catchy pop. Maybe it’s that it’s so easy to impulse-buy, or that I can buy songs one single at a time. Or maybe it’s simply that there’s no incriminating CD jewelbox to clutter my shelves. Herewith, a small representative sampling of the walk of shame that is my iTunes playlist. — Tim Carvell
CENTERFOLD by J. Geils Band I know that the J. Geils Band had other songs. I do not care to hear them.
WORK IT by Missy ”Misdemeanor” Elliott It would seem to me that once she’s put her thing down, flipped it, and reversed it, the question of whether it’s worth it is pretty much moot, no?
IT’S ALL COMING BACK TO ME NOW by Celine Dion (pictured) My favorite bit in this song is when she sings, ”There were nights of endless pleasure/It was more than any laws allow,” because I have to wonder when Canada will repeal its laws limiting the amount of pleasure available to Celine Dion.
JESSE by Carly Simon A fine disquisition on one woman’s rules re: sheet changing, wine chilling, and cologne applying.
TOTAL ECLIPSE OF THE HEART by Bonnie Tyler Honest to God, I don’t know why she doesn’t smack the guy who keeps telling her to turn around.
The TV equivalent of a good tabloid rag, Celebrity Justice is a daily half hour of lawsuit and allegation updates about everyone from Ivana Trump to the Wu-Tang Clan. The Extra spin-off is hosted by the likably direct Holly Herbert, the latest Mary Hart-Leeza Gibbons Xerox. She usually refers to her show by its initials (”Cee-Jay”) as correspondents thrust CJ-logo’ed microphones at celebs slinking into court. Even when dealing with serious charges, the show is hilarious, inserting the word famous wherever it can be wedged. Thus, Lionel Richie’s offspring, Nicole, who was accused of heroin possession (she later pleaded not guilty), is ”the petite famous daughter.” CJ is not without credibility — or at least CNN thinks so: The news organization uses CJ exec producer Harvey Levin on a regular basis to comment on, say, the Kobe Bryant case. When I ache for news of the latest Eminem dustup, CJ feels my pain and injects me with the good stuff.