Archive for March, 2008

7 out of 10 Feet Up!

Rare is the case that a mother looks better than the daughter. But in the instance of Kris Jenner, the exception has to prove the telling rule. For years Kris flew under the radar being the rich wife of OJ attorney Robert Kardashian then dumped him to marry serial husband Bruce Jenner. [Bruce had two wives previous.] Which ain’t exactly moving up in the Hollywood pecking order, simply because Jenner’s only claim to fame besides the 1976 Olympics and a Wheaties box, is that he practically got a gender reassignment thanks to a remarkably repulsive facelift which included ill-advised cheek and chin implants. For her part, Kris is looking pretty good for a 53 year old broad though we suspect there’s been a lot of upholstery performed, as well, to give her that Marie Osmond meets Charlie Chan appearance. In which case, Goodyear must be proud. In her present incarnation, Kris is complicit in the reality mess called Keeping Up with The Kardashians, a show that’s boasted porn chick Bree Olson as a guest star, and which the NY Times has described ingloriously: “The Kardashian show is not about an eccentric family living conventionally; it is purely about some desperate women climbing to the margins of fame, and that feels a lot creepier.” Creepy or not, Kris appears to be sporting at least 40-inch hips under that maroon frock. In our fantasies, we flip her over in the sack, paint a grin on her ass and get a life size Smiley face. The legs are old school, too, and that we like- tanned with arches that still afford sexual allure and promise. Hold on. Chan just opened the fortune cookie. It’s a “7″.

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3 out of 10 Feet Up!

No relation to assassinated Egyptian president Anwar Sadat, Gabrielle Anwar was born in England. Which puts the laugh on us because for years we thought she was just this skinny French broad with a funny accent. To be sure, Anwar has this hoity toity British pedigree in education as well as participation in obscure projects no one’s ever heard of or seen. Though we do remember Gabrielle sashaying across the dance floor with a blind Al Pacino in Scent of a Woman [the original working title, “Tuna,” was changed for whatever reason] and Things to Do in Denver When You’re Dead - another one of those quirky neo-noirs that arrived still born in theaters during the Nineties. A new one on us, however, is the fact that Anwar, for years, was the squeeze of actor Craig Sheffer, himself memorable for having donned a very obvious wig in an attempt to reconstruct a drunk college quarterback in the film, The Program. From what we gather in this picture, Gabrielle’s style sense can be rather tawdry [hair by Shellac of Hollywood] if she’s not reeled in, but we had no idea the flag of Israel would look so good as a dress. Also proof positive that you can slip a pair of Mopeds into sandals and not get ticketed by the cops, Gabrielle scores a “3″ in the foot department.

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1 out of 10 Feet Up!

Known essentially for her roles on TV, Debra Messing, an Emmy and SAG-winning actress, is best recognized for her show Will & Grace and, way before that, a sitcom called Ned and Stacey, one which essentially launched her career. A blind man can see a pattern clearly emerging with that resume, and it wouldn’t surprise us if Messing announced future roles in the remakes of Tango & Cash, McCabe and Mrs. Miller, The Owl and the Pussycat….well, you get the drift. Born in Brooklyn, Messing’s the daughter of Jewish American parents, her father being a sales executive for a jewel manufacturer. So it only stood to reason that the family would move to Providence, Rhode Island, the Cubic Zirconia capital of the United States. A summa cum laude from Brandeis University with a degree in theater arts, Messing went on to earn a Master’s Degree in fine arts. While the inflated degrees do sound impressive, the reality is you’re spending time in school analyzing old Jean Paul Belmondo movies for the various noir influences upon the broken nosed Frenchman’s leather jackets and Gauloises cigarettes. With some equally prestigious America’s Junior Miss titles under her belt, Messing was ready for the big time and started in pre-Broadway, a stamp of approval which is analogous to pre-pre-boarding a Delta flight. But who’s to argue with this comely redhead’s success? None of us have credits from NYPD Blue, Seinfeld or even the post- Ernest Borgnine McHale’s Navy movie. Sporting an ensemble from The Arabian Nights collection, Messing, you’ll note, isn’t readily blessed in the abundance department. In fact, one of the avid readers of this site - Sean- once remarked that Messing’s chest has been used by carrier pilots for practice takeoffs and landings. A cruel thought which is way beneath our dignity to have authored it, of course. But, disturbingly, one can’t take away from the fact, either, that Messing, upon closeup, is also afflicted with farmer’s foot, an ungamely condition accrued from years of mopping out pig troughs sans workboots. A spy satellite photo also detects varicose swelling in the left ankle. And, yes, Messing has a justified malpractice suit against her pedicurist. A judge rules “1″ in the preliminary hearing.

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4 out of 10 Feet Up!

Proof that you don’t necessarily have to be funny to make it as a Hollywood comedy writer is Tina Fey. Aside from the fact that she does a Mary Jo Buttafuoco impersonation, here’s a trivia note: Fey’s middle name is Stamatina which, when added to Ovaltine, produces quite a breakfast kick from what we’re told. Fey went on to be born in Upper Darby, Pennsylvania, an edge of Philadelphia town encompassed by bus terminals, hoagie shops and tombstones. Her father is a university grant proposal writer- an occupation devoid of any possible academic means of obtaining it. Like, how do you make that your life’s ambition, then study for a degree? Following in her old man’s footsteps, Tina pursued a dream of vague illusions and eventually became the writer, star and executive producer of the television program 30 Rock, a sitcom loosely based on her experiences at Saturday Night Live. Fey says she was exposed to comedy early, but was forbidden to watch the Flintstones, an autobiographical chapter, itself, worthy of compulsory reading. After graduating from the University of Virginia, Fey obviously impressed some people with her rollicksome Flintstone anecdotes, and took night classes at The Second City and eventually joined the troupe in 1994. She lists the horse-faced Catherine O’Hara as one of her role models. In the it’s a matter of who-you-know-game, Fey became a writer for NBC’s Saturday Night Live in 1997. Obviously getting back at her parents for the Stamatina incident, Fey on maternity leave from the show, saddled her daughter with the middle name Zenobia, which when added to Stamatina and Ovaltine turns you into Hunter S. Thompson. Making our point about Fey being stupendously hilarious, she hosted the first episode of SNL after the Writers Guild of America strike and declared she was a “bitch” while throwing her support behind the presidential campaign of Hillary Clinton who she was also a bitch, but “bitches get stuff done,” and that “bitch is the new black.” Side splitting election material. Checking out Fey dolled up, we can see her Greek origins in play. If Hera were attending the funeral of Zeus, this would be the way to go. Down further we see, yikes, “The Toes of Tina Fey” a horror film we were forbidden to watch as children. Remember what we said about Susan Lucci? It’s come back to haunt us with a “4″.

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8 out of 10 Feet Up!

G.I. Jane and former Brat Packer Demi Moore’s family background is so screwed up, she could have become a porn star. Born in Roswell, New Mexico [there’s a hint], Demi’s biological father, Charles Harmon, skipped town before she was born. Her stepfather, Danny Guynes, a drifter of sorts, committed suicide after introducing the family to a regimen of hard drinking spiked with assault and battery. Moore’s mother faired no better by example. She went on to become a celebrity alkie. So much so, that in November 1995 a tabloid tracked her down to her rat-infested shack in Las Vegas with a beat-up ‘88 Honda Prelude parked out front. She was surviving on $250 a month from social security, $85 a month in food and died at the age of fifty-four from a brain tumor. On the lighter side of abnormality, Moore, who never got along with mom, quit school at the age of 16 to work as a pin-up-girl when her friend, actress Nastassja Kinski, persuaded her to drop out of Hollywood’s Fairfax High School. At 18, Demi married rock musician Freddie Moore. Although the marriage lasted but four years, Demi kept Freddie’s last name throughout her career, and one wonders how that would have gone had she married her junior high school admirer Dingo Kryzewski. In 1987, Moore married Bruce Willis and named two of her kids Rumer and Tallulah Belle - perhaps more evidence for committal. Career-wise, Demi, at 19, became a regular on the TV show “General Hospital” and, with her newfound largesse, got accustomed to being jacked up on coke. In fact, director Joel Schumacher fired her from the set of St. Elmo’s Fire when she turned up higher than the Sears Building. Demi got a withdrawal treatment and returned to the set clean. Her early career’s punctuated with nude photo and screen appearances. But, for reasons known only to her, Moore opted for butch later on. Just recently, Moore astounded her fans with revelations on the Internet that she employs leeches as a cleansing therapy. But how Ashton Kutcher fit into the story was not made clear. In a dress borrowed from the Lindsay Price collection [see Lindsay Price], Moore exudes confidence and enough sunglass to hide just about any style of hangover. And you know we had to sneek a glance at those nifty shoes. Frankly, we still think there’s life in those 46 year old feet. Leeches or no leeches, Demi rates an “8″.

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