I’m Not a Cat Lady

Dancing With the Stars, Season 11: Week 6. Bristol Palin Goes From Chimp To Almost Champ

It’s Rock Week, the set is decorated with castoffs from the last KISS reunion tour, and we’ve got two hours to fill so we begin with Viewers’ Top 10 Favorite Dances Of All Time. As one of the 3.6 percent of DWTS' 20 million viewers who prefer not to watch the show live so that we can skip through the ads and all of Brooke Burke’s mind-numbingly repetitive Q&As, I’m sorely tempted to fast forward through this. But then I get sucked in because, oh look, there’s Apolo Ohno—who scores 2 out of the 10 favorite dances of all time, I had no idea he was so popular; the staggeringly gorgeous Giles Marini; and wee Drew Lachey, remember him? Plus, we get a nostalgic flashback to Cheryl Burke’s old face.

The biggest takeaway from this segment, however, is that by comparison, this season’s dancers are a pretty lame bunch. And here they come, filing down the staircase looking like extras from The Rocky Horror Picture Show, except for Bristol, who’s dressed for a summer revival of The Music Man. Jennifer Grey, as usual, shimmies her ass off during the opening pan, and I’m getting a little tired of it, to tell you the truth.

Up first:

Audrina

LES: Bruno’s “Don’t be plastic, be fantastic” quip is still ringing in little Drina’s ears after her remote rhumba last week and now she’s got to pull off another passionate dance, the paso doble. Can she muster some emotion behind those dead eyes and that frozen face? Also: “My boobs are in the way,” she cries. Wow, all that plastic surgery is really paying off.

On the floor: Technically she seems fine, but the face shows less emotion than Ludwig van Beethoven's death mask. Plus, she’s doing that thing again where she stares at Tony, hard, throughout the dance, following his every move and feeding off his energy instead of generating her own. It’s strangely vampiric and robotic at the same time.

The judges: Len complains that she’s getting on his nerves because “you’ve got the potential to blow us all away week after week” but her dancing “lacks the character.” Bruno agrees and suggests that for a Latin dance, she needs to channel the Evas Mendez or Longoria. Carrie Ann also agrees, but, “the improvement you’ve shown from Week 1 is ridiculous” and advises her to master “the intention.”

The score: 24

Kyle

LES: Last week Kyle got trashed by Bruno and Len, and he’s slipped from second from the top to second to last. So he practices at home with his brother, who’s wearing a ladies’ top.
 
On the floor. Kyle is a one big hunk of determination this week. Their tango is fierce, if a bit stompy, but I’m not sure how else it could be done to this great thumping song he and Lacey are stuck with.

The judges: Bruno: “You’re all grown up, all macho!” Carrie Ann loves how he puts the “Kyle stamp” on everything he does and adds, “The carriage was amazing this week.” Len: “I’m not gonna sack you, I’m gonna back you tonight.”

The scores: 23

Jennifer

LES: Little Miss No. 1 threw a hissy fit with partner Derek last week and her pissiness showed in her dance, so she tumbled to second place. Now she’s made all nice with Derek again and hurls herself into mastering the paso doble.

On the floor: It starts well but suddenly, disaaster. There’s a lot of rapid twirling involved and Jennifer gets dizzy and starts teetering like a drunken ballerina. She and Derek are both thrown off balance and totally screw up the big finish. (We even get an instant replay of their fuck-ups, it was that bad.)


And look, there’s BFF Jamie Lee Curtis and Jigsaw! Oh, beg pardon, that’s Melanie Griffiths.

The judges: Carrie Ann: “You need to calm down a little bit. Something is going terribly wrong and you’re going downhill. It was a rough, rough ride. “Len: “You got the attack, the aggression, the attitude” but “you lost a bit of the control.” Bruno: “That was like a woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown!” He asks her to “tone it down a little bit.”

The scores: 20. A series low.

Rick Fox

LES: Two weeks in a row he’s been told to turn up the heat. He’s got the tango and he’s analyzing every single step now. Cheryl is not amused.

On the floor: There’s something a little scary about Rick tonight, and it’s not just his skunky mohawk, goth makeup and long beaded frock-coat that could belong to one of the ladies from Heart. The height difference between him and Cheryl is especially jarring this time: He looks like Frankenstein dancing with a rag doll. Still, Audrina could learn a thing or two about getting into character from this guy: The Fox has no fear on that front.


The judges: Len: “I thought you did an excellent job.” Bruno was scared: “It was like a Mohican on the warpath, I thought you were going to scalp her in the end!” Carrie Ann cautions him not to look so stern, but “I thought you balanced it perfectly.”

The scores: 24

Bristol

LES: Can Bristol live down the monkey-suit fiasco and rise from the bottom of the leader board? Will doing some air guitar during the tango prove she’s got a personality behind that dull exterior and those flat vowels?

On the floor: Well, well, what's this? Something’s changed about our little Bristol this week. She’s all business, and she’s actually projecting. And she doesn’t mess up once.

The judges: Bruno: “You’re all woman tonight! Best performance and best technique up to date.” Carrie Ann: “That was ridiculously amazing! Who are YOU?” Len: “Last week a chimp, almost a champ.” But he’s subtracting a point for the air guitar because they broke a rule: You’re not supposed to break the hold during a tango.

The scores: 23

Kurt

LES: He’s got to do the paso doble and break out his wild side. So Bret Michaels—who else?—comes to the rescue with a crash course on how to be a rock ’n’ roll asshole. I mean, badass.

On the floor: Kurt breaks out the frying pan hands again, but I guess the guy can’t help it. He tries to bring the badass, but the performance is typically underwhelming.


The judges: Carrie Ann: “It wasn’t polished and it didn’t come together tonight.” Len: “You looked awkward doing it, I felt awkward watching it.” Bruno: “You  looked like you were doing karate instead of spanish dances. “

The scores: 18

Brandy

LES: Brandy’s at the top of the leader board and she’s feeling the pressure. The tango is super-hard to learn. She has a great big cleansing cry.

On the floor: She kills it. There’s nothing else to say.


The judges: Len praises Max, for some odd reason, telling him: “You’re my hero... The dance of the night.” Bruno saw the Tina Turner in Brandy: “Now, that tango REALLY rocked.” Carrie Ann: “I had goosebumps all over my arms because it was like watching somebody who had been through a really tough time really truly develop their wings and fly.”

The scores: 26

The marathon: Everyone looks like they're trying out for the high-school dance scene from Grease. I’m not comfortable with this marathon gimmick. It reminds me too much of They Shoot Horses Don’t They?, one of the most depressing movies ever made. Brandy wins.

Who will go home tonight? I say Kurt.

UPDATE: Wrong again: It's Audrina. Now that I think of it, it makes sense. No one from her demo would be compelled to watch this show in real time and to vote. I can barely bring myself to watch it on the same night, and yes, I admit it, I don't vote either. So long, Audrina, we hardly knew ya.

Dancing With the Stars, Season 11: Week 3. Margaret Cho Is Robbed Again!

I'm really annoyed. I want to know what the judges have against Margaret Cho that they keep giving her The Devil's Number week after week. She is not worse than Bristol the Dancing Plank or rubber-legged dunderhead The Situation, yet both get higher scores. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

It's Week 3. And it’s Story Night. You remember Story Night: It was the theme last season that brought us the nightmarish spectacle of a ghoulish-looking Kate Gosselin doing the paso doble to 'Paparazzi'—a sight we'd all sooner forget, but of course, ABC has to show us once again. So, in case you missed it: Enjoy.

Will this season's stars manage a trainwreck of such epic proportions?

Here they come down the stairs, all in some manner of extreme costume—our dear Margaret Cho being the most extreme in a fringed rainbow flag frock and a yellow-feathered headdress that's just this side of insane.

Bristol’s in a sparkly raincoat, Florence is channeling Maria from The Sound of Music, and Jennifer Grey is dressed like... Sarah Palin? Is this a wink to last week's Boogate?

Now that there are only 10 couples left, there’s more time to fill in this bloated two-hour timeslot—which really should be reduced to 90 minutes by now—so we get a super-cheesy opening number by a bunch of Russian dancers known as The Pros. Time to fast forward.

Onto the dancers. First up is Movie Star Jennifer Grey.

Last week's score: 24

The Story: Derek is hot for teacher. And he’s got some real-life experience: He had a crush on “Mrs. Foxy” when he was at in the third grade. Aww. All Jennifer has to do is be hot, which she doesn't seem to have any problem with.

Low Expectations Sequence: They’re doing the samba, it’s hard, Derek’s pushing her, Jennifer’s fried. But don’t worry: This chick has drive; she wants to stay on the top of that leader board so she’s gonna "kick this samba in its aaaaaasssss." (That's how she says it. It's a little creepy.)

On the floor: Kinky! Jennifer is Naughty Teacher, lashing young Derek with a ruler, dragging him by the ear, and then stripping off her sweater to reveal… a blouse that looks like it was attacked by wolves. Also: Those weird, chap-like fringed trousers. The dance, however, looks flawless.

The judges: Len loves the story and the choreography, but is concerned with the little “twiddly bit” that happened at some point that I sure didn’t notice. Bruno: "You are the sexy mistress of Cougar Town’s Academy of Samba!" but he nitpicks about getting tangled in the roll and something about a pivot, which I also didn’t notice. Carrie Ann: "Tonight you were slightly out of sync... And you had a big mess up in the  middle.” Still, they get three 8s.

Total score:  24

America’s Favorite TV Mom Florence Henderson

Last week's score: 20

The Story: Surprise! They’ll be dancing to 'Edelweiss' from The Sound of Music.  And guess what: Flo played Maria on Broadway wayyyy back in the 60s. And excuse me, look at her, she hasn’t changed a bit!

LES: Florence has never done a waltz like this, but seems pretty confident with this one—even though she's wearing a terrible striped sweater that looks straight out of Carol Brady's wardrobe. Then she starts talking about her late husband, John, whom she’s reminded of while practicing the waltz and when she talks about how she misses him, my eyes starts stinging. Consider my heartstrings plucked.

On the floor: Oh crap, after this slow, sad version of 'Edelweiss', le deluge. This song always makes me cry when I'm watching The Sound of Music, but while watching DWTS? I am so ashamed! Maybe it’s the wine. Anyway, I think Flo’s dance is beautiful: She glides and she twirls and she spins on one foot with the toes of her other foot nicely pointed. Very classy. Plus, she and Corky look like a little waltzing couple that used to come out of my parent’s old cuckoo clock on the half hour.

The judges: Each has praise with a caveat. Bruno: "Simple, effective, very very sweet." But: “You were stopping to get into a figure and then starting again." Carrie Ann: "I definitely think John is smiling down on you. Really touching..." But: "A little on the simple side." Len: "It was poignant, it was emotional, it was sweet." But: "The technique in your feet is nonexistent." He gets booed. And, no, Sarah Palin is nowhere to be seen.

Total score: 20. Flo gets only a 6 from Len. That’s rough; clearly, her flirting with him isn’t working.

Oh look, in the audience, it’s Kelly and Sharon Osbourne! I must say I love Kelly’s look these days. The platinum hair is working for her, and I am loving her on Fashion Police. Sharon, meanwhile—hair’s a little bouffy, girl! And the waxy face! She needs to take it all down a notch.

Superbowl MVP Kurt Warner

Last week’s score: 21

The Story: Someone’s having a bad day. Because their song is 'Bad Day.'

LES: Kurt’s a big guy. Can he be graceful and elegant or will he look like "a big tree running around on the dance floor"? Anna decides the perfect practice for him will be a little tea party with his two adorable blonde daughters and a plastic infant.

On the floor: There’s a Singin' in the Rain thing going on, with a brolly, some rain and, inexplicably, a red phone box. Kurt plays the guy who says “Come on, luv, smile, it may never ’appen!” to Anna’s surly Russian spy. Then he does a solo twirl with his umbrella, hoping, I guess, to evoke Gene Kelly. Not in this lifetime.

The judges: Carrie Ann: "It was so charming!" Len says it was lacking musicality through the arms but “everything else was penthouse.” Bruno liked the Brief Encounter scenario but he nearly clocks Len while imitating Kurt’s “frying pan hands.” 

The score: 23. Bruno brandishes the lone 7 with some relish.

Comedian Margaret Cho

Last week’s score: 18

The story: It's all about expressing pride, happiness and joy. And coming out!

LES: How is Maggie going to control The Face? Not only that, she’s on tour and rehearsing all at the same time. She's knackered.

On the floor: The song is 'Copacabana,' which totally explains the yellow feathers in her hair. Cute! And she is shakin’ that rainbow-flag dress! Maggie can do the hips, she’s all fluid and bouncy and happy, and not a Dragon Face in sight. She messes up the footwork pretty badly halfway through, but seems to bounce right back, which can’t be easy. They end with a bang of rainbow streamers, which she didn't seem to be expecting: She's tickled pink.

 
Look how cute her moms and pops are!

The judges: Len was encouraged at the start by the rhythm and hip action but “you lost it in the middle.” Bruno: "I praise you for wearing the rainbow flag, keep waving it, girl!" But: “You lost your timing.” Carrie Ann loved the story but “you lost control, it was like 'release the beast!'” Oh, bitch-bitch-bitch!

The score: The Devil’s Number again! Not one 7? Come on!

The Hills’ Star Audrina Patridge

Last week’s score: 23

The Story: A marine comes home to his wife in a dream. I think.

LES: This dance, a waltz, needs some serious emotion, and Audrina says she’s not used to showing her emotions. This from the girl who cried throughout rehearsal last week over her boyfriend, and never stopped blubbering over Justin Bobby on The Hills. Another problem: She’s got to try to figure out how to dance with these weird flesh bubbles under her arms.

On the floor: Drina’s a natural—she makes it look effortless. The arms are gorgeous, and look, no flesh bubbles! But sorry, the face is still dead.

The judges: Bruno: "Beautifully danced and beautifully played—a hit!" Carrie Ann has a quibble over her toe pointing but "the competition just got very interesting." Len prematurely announces: "That was the most touching dance of the night," even though we still have five dances to go.

The score: 26. Drina gets two 9s!

And now, a quick cut to my girl in the backup band.

Teen Activist Bristol Palin

Last week’s score: 22

The Story: Partner Mark is a homeless person; Bristol takes pity.

LES: Bristol’s scared to death and nervous about looking into Mark’s eyes and doesn’t know how to get into character and she giggles too much. Because she’s not a performer, remember? Remember? And she’s a single mom. And she’s traveling around all over the place preaching abstinence. Life is so hard!

On the floor: Bristol discards the sparkly raincoat and reveals... Another truly dreadful, homemade-looking dress. It adds five pounds to the five pounds already added by the camera. Very poor choice. As for her dancing, she looks extremely stiff and uncomfortable out there; she all but lumbers through it.

The judges: Carrie Ann: "Umm... That was a hard one." Uh-oh. She says her movement was quite lovely but the face “wasn’t happening.” Len says he told her to take a chance this week; she did, and he didn’t like it that much. Bruno says the execution is neat and clean, but "you’re not Meryl Streep yet. I know there’s something in there—show it to me, baby!” Oh dear, these scores are not going to be good.

The score: 19. Bruno throws her a 7. It’s a pity point, and it isn't fair. She does not deserve a better score than Margaret Cho. What's going on here—are the judges scared of Mama Grizzly?

R&B Singer Brandy

Last week's score: 21

The story: The Bodyguard.

LES: The tension in rehearsal is as thick as Maks's beard. Tabloid rumors abound that she and Maks hate each other, which they’re both desperately denying this week. However, it's not pretty watching Maks smack her around during rehearsal. No wonder she's  pissed.

On the floor: She comes out lip-syncing to this hideous version of 'Put It in a Love Song' and, I don’t know, I’m seeing Brandy the R&B diva, not Brandy the ballroom dancer. There's a lot of solo stuff in this performance: She dances around Maks rather than with him; she does that same chest-shakin’ shimmy she's done every week now; her arms are still snaking all over the place. She’s technically outstanding but it looks too much like music video choreography to me.

The judges: Len: "It had energy, it had punch, good hip action." But Len is very unhappy about the practice sequence: "Slapping her on the arse is not the way to train in my opinion." Bruno: "I’m starting to see the comeback of the diva! Way to go, girl!" Carrie Ann doesn’t condone “that kind of teaching” but “it worked!” She praises Brandy's arms. Didn't I just say there was way too much arm?

Total score: 24. I don't get it. I must be watching another show.

Disney Star Kyle Massey

Last week's score: 22

LES: Kyle and Lacey are given 'Take It To the Limit' by The Eagles. "Who are The Eagles?" Lacey demands. They chuck it. Hah! They get 'Falling in Love at the Coffee Shop' instead. Now the only problem is: Can Kyle be serious, soft and delicate enough for the waltz?

On the floor: Surprise! Kyle's very graceful: light on his feet, smooth moves,  good arms, sober attitude. But then, as they go into a dip, Kyle can’t resist pulling a goofy face at the camera.

The judges: Bruno: "You’ve got the likability factor sewn up!" Carrie Ann: "You just bring the fun to the floor! I loooooovvvved it!" Len: "Your acting level is very high, your performance level is very high, your footwork is atrocious, it’s non existent."

The score: 23

The Situation

Last week's score: 18

The Story: Something about a time machine, The Situation 2.0 and FrankenSinatra.

LES: Can The Situation find his musicality, remember his steps and be less pigeon-toed?

On the floor: They’re doing the foxtrot to 'Boom Boom Pow.' It's truly terrible. I’m so distracted by it I can’t decipher what’s going on—there's a giant beaker, flashing light, steam, and a costume change where Karina comes out all gothed up and The Situation, in a studded net shirt, looks ready for an evening at The Cock. There’s virtually no dancing, it’s just Karina twirling off the end of The Situation’s arm as he strikes various poses and walks alongside her. His rubber legs are not helping. He looks suitably embarrassed when the dance is over.

The judges: Carrie Ann: "You are baby stepping your way to becoming a dancer." Len: "If that’s the future, I’m glad I live in the past." Bruno: "In a very weird way, that was very very entertaining."

The score: 20. This goober got two 7s, and Margaret Cho got none? Wrong. Very, very wrong.

NBA Champion Rick Fox

Last week’s score: 21

The Story: Rick costs his teammates the latest game and he’s drowning his sorrows at the bar. 

LES: They're dancing the samba. Cheryl wants Rick to loosen up those hips and control those long limbs and be sexy, goddammit!

On the floor: Cheryl shakes some serious booty on the bar—not sure about her part in this story, is she a lap dancer come to make him feel better?—and then, whoa! Rick rips open his shirt and gives us full torso. Not bad, but he’s no The Situation, bless him. The audience roars: His booty shake is a crowd-pleaser and a wife-pleaser, too—she’s all “Yessss! That's my man!”

The judges: Len: "You’ve gone up a notch tonight." Bruno: "You’ve definitely got the hot cheek... We want to see more of that"! Carrie Ann: "It was hot, it was sexy, it was goooooooood!”

The score: 24

Who? Will go home?

UPDATE: It's between Bristol, who brings zero entertainment value, and Margaret, who brings fun and energy to everything she does.

It's Margaret. Words fail. The Plank lives to lumber another day.

Celebrity Rehab With Dr. Drew: Tales From the Crypt

Not necessarily on purpose, I caught up with the Season 3 premiere of VH1's Celebrity Rehab With Dr. Drew today and I am still reeling from the retina-scorching plastic-surgery-gone-way-past-wrong mess that is Heidi Fleiss, and the so-haggard-it-hurts-to-look-to-look-at-her Mackenzie Phillips.

Just look at these mugs. And trust me, folks, this is nothing compared to seeing them on a big screen in glorious, unforgiving HD.

 

Heidi reminds us more than once that she's 43, because Lord knows we'd never guess from the butchered state of that puss. Poor Mackenzie has never been a looker, but somebody please get that girl a tub of Max Factor Pancake and a sponge. There's no need for a costly, clever anti-drug campaign ever again: Just slap these ladies' faces on a lifesize poster and the job's done.

Yes, this season's bunch is definitely the ropiest yet. There's a true trilogy of terror in scary monster Dennis Rodman, who seems to think he's there because of a court order; super-creep Tom Sizemore, who—hey! casting coup!—was convicted of assaulting ex-lover Fleiss in 2003, and a freshly Saran-wrapped Mike Starr from Alice in Chains, who shows up with a weeping abscess caused by shooting up but still seems rather robust for a drug addict, if you ask me.

 

Rounding off this particularly motley crew we've got the requisite bosomy Playboy model, a meatball from The Real World, some country singer or other and a contestant from America's Next Top Model who's quite pretty but, c'mon, had about as much chance making it as a model as Heidi Fleiss has of passing for 43. 

This show is frequently revolting and vaguely obscene. There's no celebrity trainwreck Dr. Drew isn't willing to exploit, even after his "good friend" DJ AM turned back to drugs and killed himself after hosting his own rehab series last year. And yet… Yeah. I'm gonna have to watch.

 

I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here Finale: See You Next Year?

As our comely hosts Damien Fahey and Myleene Klass open the show, they announce that it's pouring with rain in Costa Rica—a fitting outcome for the final episode of this soggy version of what should have been a really fun and engaging series. After three-and-a-half long and uneventful weeks, we've finally reached  the bitter end. Three are left—former NBA champ John Salley, ex-WWE sweetheart Torrie Wilson and once-promising Hollywood actor Lou Diamond Phillips—and one of them will be crowned King or Queen of the Jungle. Unfortunately, everybody was watching So You Think You Can Dance or Wipeout instead, so this will be a fairly intimate coronation.

But first, let's recap everything that's gone before. No, I take that back, let's not. There's a rehash of pathological famewhores Heidi and Spencer Pratt and their acting out routine, which sucked up the entire first week and has generated plenty of publicity already, so to hell with that. We go back over Sanjaya's and Patti Blagojevic's expulsions, probably for the sake of all the viewers who dropped off over the weeks and whom NBC figured would tune in at least to watch the finale and totally did not.

Finally, it’s the long-teased reunion of rejectees—I mean, ex-campmates—all scrubbed up and sitting on logs. Heidi is velcroed to Spencer's lap and Myleene observes that they both look "so much better” than when we last saw them, and indeed, she's right: Their faces are preternaturally shiny and all plump and juicy—no doubt the results of some dermabrasion and a few strategic pricks of restalayne. Because all 22-year-olds need that kind of help to look rested. We get the old "I'm too rich and too famous" montage and Spencer whooping like a gibbon. Oh enough with these two.

Janice Dickinson has come dressed for the disco in a tight hot-pink number, hair a cascade of shimmering jet-black curls, with a smile plastered on her face like Bob the Enzyte guy. She's so happy to be here! A little too happy, methinks—she's chewing her face off and, well, she's vibrating. She must be on some very effective happy-pappy pills right now. We get a J-Dick montage showing her scowling and hobbling around, unable to "go poo," and instantly, all her efforts to look fabulous tonight are pretty much shot to hell.

Back to camp and the final three. Oh, there's a food challenge. Why? It's over! The votes are in! Haven't these poor starving smelly creatures been through enough? Apparently not. The producers must think we need another fix of snake-and-bug porn. The game is something to do with a spa and it's all, hee hee, ho ho, Torrie you need a shampoo, and she gets to lie with her head covered in all manner of things that crawl as she fishes around for her two stars. John gets a fruit facial, which means he has to submerge his head in a tub of slop filled with something known as vomit fruit. Belligerent to the end, John demands, "Is this legal in America?" and Damien is right back at him: "That's why we’re in Costa Rica, John, we’re breakin' rules. Now shut yer trap!" Okay he didn't say that last part, but his face did.

LouDi gets a manicure courtesy of some great horny toads and a few spiders in a tank. LouDi had his hand gnawed off by rats and tarantulas crawling over his eyeballs, this is a cake walk for him. Next, a hot tub for Torrie, which is filled with wee crocodiles. Oh big deal—we know these croccies are completely harmless. Torrie picks one up and gives him a kiss. And all the men go boinnnng! I gotta admit, it's pretty hot.

John gets a snake sauna. They’re all pretty little decorative snakes, ain't gonna hurt nobody, no biggie. LouDi gets a jungle spray tan, which translates as meal worms. Oh, ewww. He's got worms in his ear. Everyone's giggly and giddy, Myleene and Damien are more chipper than we've ever seen them, they are unanimously thrilled that they're all finally going to be out of there for good.

The final three return to camp all cleaned up, and sit by the fire to chit-chat with the hosts some more. Now they're in earnest mode: This is like nothing I've ever done before I got more out of this jungle and it's still surreal and I would never have quit and get me back, Clarence, I want to live again! We waste more minutes on the ex-campmates who are asked about their favorite trials and Sanji waffles on again about how he loved being immersed upside down in the tank with snakes on that very first night and .... Damien's all, yeah yeah, uh-huh, great.

Back to the final three. They eat their well-earned meals and talk about how much winning means to them. Torrie announces that she thinks she'll be an inspiration to women by showing them you can be strong, brave and feminine. As opposed to the role model du jour, skinny, trashy and slutty. It's an admirable goal but... good luck with that, Torrie!

Now one of the three musketeers has to go. Damien: “The next celebrity….. to leave the jungle forever is…. …. …. ….. ….. …. John." Good. John gets that rictus grin and leaps up a little too quickly, pretending he's excited to be getting home. Even through they're all going home tonight. There's a soupy montage of Salley's Greatest Hits. He simmers down as he watches, becoming gracious and humble at last.

We get a LouDi recap. He’s the good guy, everybody loved Lou, nobody had a gripe with him, and he’s proud of that. He triumphantly proclaims, "I do what I set out to do, my experience in this jungle has been complete." Bravo, fine ac-tor! Time for Torrie. She surprised herself with how strong and fearless she’s been. Awww. She feels like she can do anything after this.

We're back in camp and Damien reminds us the final three have been roughing it for 24 days, and I realize I really lost count with this thing—that's two days longer than I thought. Oh well, my bad. Myleene: "Lou, Torrie, one of you is about to be crowned King or Queen of the Jungle." Damien. "Lou……… you nervous?" Indeed, Lou looks like he’s about to cry. Back to Myleene: “There can only be one winner." Oh come on, we know that already, you've been telling us for 24 days! "The public has decided and voted and I can only tell you two, it has been incredibly close. The winner. Of I’m a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here 2009 is ….. …." Torrie? Please?

"Lou Diamond Phillips."

Well of course. The ex-campmates are ecstatic. J-Dick, I think, self-combusts. LouDi gets a shiny wreath of leaves. Myleene says, "We'll see you next year!"

And there will be pork in the treetops come morning. 

 

The End.

photos courtesy of nbc.com

I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here Day 21: You Will NOT Lose Interest in This Show

Last night's episode, which contained more filler than Janice Dickinson's, Renee Zellweger's and Madonna's faces combined, hit an all-time season low. So I guess it's in with a whimper and out an even sadder whimper for IACGMOOH-US. And it's no big surprise. With low-grade celebrities coming and going like Lindsay Lohan in the bathroom at Bar Marmont, IACGMOOH never found its rhythm, it didn't know which way to turn. It was a show made up of recaps and insta-flashback montages, with a few random challenges squeezed in between.

So here we are, it's the penultimate episode, and we kick off with, yes, a recap of the night before: Stephen Baldwin the quitter, fake showmance, bug cocktails, Holly goes home. And two more go home tonight! Here's Damien and Myleene, our comely hosts, live in the jungle, chirpy and wide-eyed and a little desperate to drum up some enthusiasm. Myleene's wearing a fetching little coral.... Holy cow, what happened to her hair? She is channeling the Bride of Frankenstein tonight. This is not a good look for her.

They promise us we've got a nail-biter coming up. But first... Let's hang out with the campers as they sit around the campfire and reminisce about their favorite moments and how they've been jungle-transformed.

Great, yet another opportunity to watch sepia-toned scenes we've already seen. The only compelling moment here is when John Long Tall Salley recounts how he found his soul in the river as well as his new BFF Patti Blah-go. Cut to Long Tall lotusing atop the waterfall episode, eyes closed, as Patti slithers soundlessly to his side, like a pigtailed river snake. It's quite hilarious—I have to rewind that bit and watch again.

Hey, it's our friends, the ants with fern. Cut to Lou Diamond Phillips and his granny glasses; he announces: "I need everyone on the benches, please!" Who named him camp leader again? We have a bald-faced product placement segment: Heads up, everybody, the good folks at Colgate think we need to freshen up! Here are some new Colgate Wisp dry toothbrushes, which come in lots of yummy fruit flavors. Everyone oohs and aahs on cue, like they just got lollipops from the dentist. "That’s sweet, Colgate!" yells Long Tall. Good celebrities! Contract fulfilled.

The big finale tomorrow night is teased. Yay, all the people we didn't care about enought to vote for will be back—can't wait! Most of them just left a minute ago, so where's the suspense? Back to camp. Scroll! Long Tall is leader again. He announces the next food trial, Catch a Crawling Star. The campers file over the jungle bridge and head to the Jungle Clearing. "Let’s to get 'em buckaroo!" cheers LouDi. "Arrgghh, harrrr harrrrr!" growls Long Tall. "No, that's a pirate," corrects Uncle Lou. Heh!

There's a cable strung a few feet over the river with five hanging flags. I'm sorry but this is a doddle compared to the challenges in the Real World/Road Rules Challenges. Torrie has a sudden fear fit, though, crying sweet, pretty tears. She's all scared because she's tired, or something. They go in pairs, Torrie and Long Tall first. They straddle the cable in the most awkward and unflattering position imaginable. Long Tall hurls himself across, but won't take his last flag until the lagging Torrie catches up. Where did that benevolent team spirit suddenly spring from? Maybe the river really did change him.

LouDi and Sanji go next. Sanji makes like Tinkerbell on that cable, ha ha Lou, you didn't win for once, suck it. And then there's Patti. Whoops, they've run out of pairs already. Why in the world did they bother with that? Patti goes solo, and the editors try to fake us that she’s doing a kick-ass job. So do the campmates, who are all "Look at her go!" "She's a fighter!" They pity poor Patti, who flips upside down and starts dropping her flags. Yeah, she’s toast. Sanji and John win. Torrie shows off a stomach as flat as an ironing board.

Quick-cut montage of the remaining five all saying, I will not lose this, I will not lose this, I will not lose this. Since when did everybody stop using the contraction? This has been going on for a quite a while with Generation Valleyspeak—seemingly overnight, it wasn't "don't speak to me", it was "do NOT speak to me." And, as if to prove my point, on comes that super-annoying Verizon Wireless ad, probably the most annoying of Verizon's entire oeuvre of annoying ads, where that fat guy says to his smug-couple friends showing of their new phone, "One thing I do NOT need is a new phone" and then says in his head, "Do NOT set that down, I WILL take it."Like some copywriter seized on that particular vocal trend 10 years after the fact, hammered it into his script and instructed the director, "He WILL say the line like this." 

After this extra-super-annoying break, which, obviously, I didn't fast-forward over fast enough, we get one of the dumbest filler segments so far this season, and that IS saying something: The campmates give each other awards. Fast-forward!

We're live. Damien is in camp to deliver the first blow of the hour, working his dramatic pauses. "Torrie… yewww ….. .....are safe." Yay! I want her to win.  "Lou……. yewwww ……. ....... Are also safe."  Yeah, yeah, come on. "Okay, guys, the first person leaving the jungle… tonight...... is......." Patti, it's Patti, come on, say Patti... "Sanjaya!" Hey! That actually caught me by surprise. Although I had a hunch last night, when he danced his little wood-nymph dance as the credits rolled, that he might have tried the patience of his fan base. Maybe the showmance pushed them over the edge. Life lesson for Sanjaya: Pick a side and stick to it.

Sanji takes a seat with Myleene and her horror-show hairdo. She is a gorgeous girl but even she can't pull this frightwig off. She milks the showmance angle, clutching at straws, desperate to eeke out a storyline, any storyline, and Sanji plays along. Contract fulfilled! We cut to confessional clips of the campmates testifying to their love for Sanji. Wait. Is this live too? When did they film and edit this part? Did everyone have to record a pre-emptive testimonial for each and every remaining campmate the day before? It doesn't matter at this late stage, I give up trying to figure out this stuff. Sanji dissolves in tears, it looks like entire face is watering.

We're live again, or still live, whatever, and it's between John and Patti. And it's..... Patti. About bloody time! Bye, Patti, don't let the bridge hit you on the way out! I'm sorry, but I don't like her, never did. There is something very odd about her, like she isn't comfortable in her own skin. She's all awkward, nervous energy. And it's not good energy. Plus, she's got that flat midwestern-sounding Soccer Mom voice, you know, that sounds like there's always a saliva bubble in the throat.

Patti fairly sprints across that bridge, not looking back once. She gets her testimonial. She Soccer-Moms  her debrief. And I do NOT care what she has to say.

And now there are three. And it's all gonna happen tomorrow night. Why do I feel so painfully underwhelmed? "You do NOT want to miss it!" insists Damien. No, Damien. We do NOT!

photos courtesy of nbc.com

I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here Day 16: RIP Janice Dickinson

I'm sorry if I spoiled last night's outcome for anyone just now, but come on, why bury the lede? It was frustrating sitting through the whole show as they teased it out, so I'm not anxious to repeating the exercise here. America does not feel the love for J-Dick, and it's not hard to see why I suppose. Oh, and IACGMOOH's numbers were up last night, to the same levels as last week, which aren't great, but right now this show needs all the small mercies it can get.

Last night's episode was mostly filler, but here's what we learned: Nobody wants to go home. John "Long Tall" Salley and Lou Diamond Phillips clap themselves on the back for their immunity status. The teams merge, meaning it's now a game of individuals—which doesn't seem like the correct definition of merge, if you ask me, but that's reality-speak for you. A merge tonight is an empty gesture, though, considering that, in real time, two of the players are already history,  so why bother?

J-Dick is really mean and bossy with little Holly, who throws a pail of water over her that makes her face melt. That's the only explanation I can think of—I mean seriously, she  looks like an overripe slab of brie.  J-Dick's face keeps getting meaner and meaner too: She is walking proof of the old adage that you get the face that you deserve. Despite mega-doses of plastic surgery.

There's a very daft game involving plastic balls and those freakin' stars buried in a mud pit. The players fashion their own costumes, and all the guys channel their inner gay porn star. Stephen Baldwin makes a big show of it and starts playing to the balcony, man-boobs all a-flap. Sanjaya, LouDi and Long Tall win. The prize is more junk food: Pizza.

It's the halfway point and we're live, with Myleene and Damien heading to camp with the results. And it's abrupt: Holly, you're going home. Here's your hat, what's your hurry? Then they tease that the second to go is either J-Dick, Patti Blah-go or Stevie B. Holly leaves to no fanfare whatsoever, just a sad walk of shame over a toy bridge. In the British version there are fireworks and champagne and a loved one jumping up and down to greet the departing celebrity to soften the blow. There's silly banter with cheeky chappies Ant and Dec and a nice The Way We Were montage of the player's memorable moments, and they get to make a speech about What They Learned. And there's drinking! And laughing!  All we get on this version is anti-climax. The whole series is anti-climax. How did Ben Silverman get it so wrong?

Next: We have a silly sequence of all the old-timers dropping names as they bore the non-celebrity young'uns Holly and Torrie to tears. Then at dinner, J-Dick and Long Tall throw down over vegetables. J-Dick wants the lion's share of greens—"doctor's orders"—but Long Tall demands a doctor's note first. They argue. It's ugly. It feels like Long Tall is being more of a hardass than he really needs to be, but I suspect this is the editors' handiwork. We hear him explain to Patti later that he won't be bossed around like that by anyone because he's a "proud black man." All I can say is, the editors aren't doing proud black men any favors right now.

Live again, time for the second evictee. Bye bye J-Dick. She takes it in stride. No fireworks, no champagne, no loved one. But Myleene seems genuinely disappointed: "I've loved having her," she says. "Love 'er or hate 'er, you never forget 'er."

She's right. J-Dick was a demon. She was mean, bitter, uncouth, dishonest and obnoxiously self-obsessed. She also provided the majority of the story-arc once the Heidi and Spencer crap was finally put to rest. She got most of the camera time because she was the only one doing anything worth watching and talking about.  And it ended up working against her. That's the name of the game, I suppose, but mark my words, she'll leave a huge vacuum in that camp. Life might be easier for them, but it will be deathly dull for us.

photo courtesy of nbc.com

I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here: NBC premiere

 

I’ve been pretty curious to see how last night’s premiere of NBC’s I’m a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here was going to work out. This series is wildly popular in the UK, where it’s been running for nine seasons and airs every year in November. I’ve often been in London when it’s on and even though I’m on holiday and should be doing a million things other than watching TV, I get sucked in every time. Most of my friends there watch it—including the ones I always stay with—and so do their kids and, most likely, their parents.

More than half the country tunes in to see this show. All in the name of charity, contestants are forced to camp out in the Australian rainforest for three weeks with few amenities and compete in various challenges to win meals for the camp. Each night the public votes for one cast member to go into the Bush Tucker Trial, which usually involves being submerged in a water tank with snakes or in a pit with creepy crawly bugs and spiders; then they vote again for their favorite celebrity. The one with the least votes is sent home until there is one left standing, who’s named King or Queen of the Jungle.

IACGMOOH UK is silly and sensationalistic and one of the most charming shows I’ve ever seen. A wide array of celebrities are cast to appeal to every age group imaginable—comedians, soap actors, TV and radio hosts, pop singers, retired footballers, models, journalists, producers, politicians, pantomime stars. They’ve had Martina Navratilova, John Lydon (who went predictably apeshit after just a few days and quit) and David Gest (who, shockingly, turned out to be a really funny guy and one of the most popular players that season). There are rows and romances, bickering and breakdowns, but it is curiously fascinating to watch how these people manage to cope in harsh conditions and to see them ultimately bond and band together. It brings out the worst in some people but, more often, it brings out the best.

The show is put together with a light tough that verges on camp, hosted by the cheeky chappies Ant and Dec. It’s sweet. It’s funny. It’s addictive. You tune in every night for three weeks because you get attached to these people, you fall in love with some of them, you really cheer for them to win and you can’t wait to see what they’re going to do next.

An attempt to import IACGMOOH to the US was made in 2003 by ABC, sticking faithfully to the UK format. It was hosted by John Lehr, one of the Geico cavemen. It tanked. Maybe it was the celebrities, like Melissa Rivers and Downtown Julie Brown and Stuttering John Melendez and Chris Judd, who were just too obscure. Maybe it was the three-week nightly commitment. Maybe it was because the reality craze was relatively new and still eyed suspiciously back in 2003. Whatever the reason, the US audience ignored the show.

So I wondered, when I heard NBC was reviving it, what they were going to do differently this time. I hoped it would be something good. But I had my suspicions, and unfortunately they turned out to be right: They’ve made it like every other reality show on TV.

Crazy Mel Gibson Strikes Again

This morning I came across this clip of serial procreator and longtime creep Mel Gibson talking about his eighth kid last night on Leno. He jokingly calls himself "Octomel" and starts mocking Octomom's unnaturally swollen lips.

Excuse me, but let's take a little look at Mel's new girlfriend, Osanka Something-Beginning-With-a-G. Can you tell which one's which?

 

FrankenLove

For about a week, photos of Courtney Love parading around in a bikini have been showing up on celebrity gossip blogs every day. Each time, she's seen wearing a different bikini and behaving like someone who knows damn well her every move is being captured on film. She knows what she's doing, she wants those  photos out there. I guess she wants everyone to see how much she has slimmed down; what she must not realize is that in the process of losing a few extra pounds, she now has a stomach that seems to be imitating Keith Richards' face.

 
images via Snarky Gossip, Egotastic, TMZ

images via Celebrity Babylon and TMZ

That last photo looks like it might be doctored, but still.

Is poor Courtney so deranged that she doesn't realize we all know what a liposuctioned tummy looks like by now? Honey, wake up: Tara Reid told us all about it.