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Donald Trump’s statement about his dead brother Robert is all about Donnie, with not a word about Robert, his life, any accomplishments or Robert’s personality or relationship to others. It’s just about Trump. Now Donald will have a self serving memorial service at the White House on Friday, a place Robert Trump visited maybe once. This is an American Horror Story.
Poor Robert. It’s probably taking everything for his wife and his stepson to restrain themselves. And so far no word from niece Mary Trump, who I doubt will be invited to the service.
We haven’t even seen Season 4 of “The Crown” yet and the producers have already made big changes for Seasons 5 and 6.
I think it’s a mistake to announce the changes before Season 4 happens. It’s kind of disrespectful to the audience and the cast. It’s like saying, forget these people, wait til Season 5.
So the big news today is that Emma Corrin, who was hired to play Princess Diana for Season 4, won’t stay beyond her season. Elizabeth Debicki will take over for the final two seasons. She’s only five years older than Corrin, so I do wonder what caused the switch. Debicki, by the way, is 6 foot 3. Wow. Princess Diana was tall, 5 foot 10, but that is tall.
And what about Prince Charles? Seasons 3 and 4 are taken by John O’Connor, who’s turned out to be very popular. Will he stay? At 30, he’s a year older than Debicki, so my guess is yes. (Even Janet McTeer, who is quite tall, is only six foot one.)
Meanwhile, Oscar winner Olivia Colman will be replaced as Queen Elizabeth by Imelda Staunton for Seasons 5 and 6. And the other big news is that Oscar nominee Jonathan Pryce will play the older Prince Phillip in the final two seasons, replacing the great Toby Menzies. And Lesley Manville will come in to replace Helena Bonham Carter as Princess Margaret, aging the character by 10 years.
But all of this is far down the road. We don’t even know when Season 4 begins. Season 5 will be in 2021-22, and Season 6 after that. By that time Prince Andrew may have taken the whole bloody lot down!
George Christy was a character. He wore a Fedora and was always spiffy. For 26 years he commanded a column in The Hollywood Reporter– the real one– called “The Great Life.” He died on August 12th, with little fanfare, at the age of 93. He had a lot of fans. I was one.
George’s reign at the Reporter was fun. He took it seriously. He was to the old Hollywood Reporter what Army Archerd was to Variety: a voice. He loved Hollywood and celebrities, and they loved him. “The Great Life” was informative and snappy. You couldn’t live without it.
During his run as a gossip columnist in the heyday, George also wrote for Andy Warhol’s Interview. His Q&A’s were always a must read.
Dan Aykroyd, George Christy and Paul Sorvino during 2003 Toronto International Film Festival – George Christie Party at The Four Seasons Hotel in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. (Photo by George Pimentel/WireImage)
And he was generous. When I came wandering into the celebrity bullpen in 1987 with Fame magazine, George was always helpful. If you needed a number no one had, he had it. If you needed an introduction, or intelligence about Los Angeles types– this was way before there was internet– George had the intel. He was the internet. If you knew Liz Smith on the east coast and George on the left, you could not go wrong.
In 2001, George got in trouble because it turned out he was scamming SAG for health insurance. People acted holier than thou (and still have in the few obits that have appeared.) All the liberals who want universal health care don’t seem to get it: George didn’t have health insurance. He came up with a clever way to get it. Freelancers and writers never had a union the way the actors did with SAG. So big effin deal. The Reporter let him go with no sense of loyalty or duty.
George moved on to the Beverly Hills Courier. For years he still hosted his annual Saturday lunch at the Toronto Film Festival. It was a BIG DEAL to get in. Everyone came. When I was able to make it, it was very exciting, with more electricity than a Vanity Fair Oscar party.
Twenty six years, plus all those years of writing about actors before and after, giving them ink, plugs, hoisting them up. How many times did a casting director or a producer see a mention in George Christy and hire someone? Plenty. Were there many thank you’s? I doubt it.
George died Tuesday night of heart failure at Providence Saint John’s Health Center in Santa Monica, his friend, producer-director Barry Avrich, said.
“George Christy was a combination of Louella Parsons, Hedda Hopper and Walter Winchell in the old Hollywood style of reporting,” Avrich commented. “The only difference that distinguished George from his predecessors was that while he looked for scoops, he never was interested in scandal or salacious exposés.”
Lynne Segall, recently laid off by THR as their publisher, said on social media: “[George] covered everything from the Italian Regatta Boat Races to dinners with the head of Bulgari. From movie premieres and Swifty Lazar’s Oscar parties to coverage of books and food, no one wrote a more interesting column withthe greatest photos.George never took notes and had a steel trap memory.”
George made big mistake. He didn’t write a book, as far as I know. He should have. His other mistake was that he let people beneath him shame him. Did he take gifts? Probably. Not in exchange for anything. So he could live. I doubt he was ever motivated to write something he didn’t believe because someone bought him dinner or sent him a bottle of wine. That’s not the way it works. It was small potatoes. But he was scapegoated.
And no, I’m not saying this because I ever took or got a thing. (I always wished I’d be offered a bribe. No one has ever bothered.) But the big gifts in Hollywood are never talked about, the “incentives” and “bonuses” no one talks about. The perk packages. George Christy’s only crime was just trying to survive, at a minimal level.
RIP George, you were a great guy and deserve a 21 gun salute.
My friend, Aretha Franklin– wait, such a weird thing to say but it’s true– Aretha Franklin was my friend. She died two years ago today, August 16th, 2018. Like a lot of her friends, I’m not over it.
I think the new worst part of Aretha’s death is that back on April 8th of this year, Aretha’s long standing boyfriend, road manager, best friend, bodyguard, sort of everything person, Willie Wilkerson, died as a result of COVID-19. He was in Detroit, he went out to walk the dog, came back sick, went to the hospital and died alone. Willie had married on February 14th, 2019, six month after Aretha died. He was still getting over her death, but he was happy. This was just about the cruelest ending to an honorable life I could imagine. He was my friend, and I miss him a lot.
In July 2018 I went to Detroit to say goodbye to Aretha. Willie was my host, but she was so ill that he didn’t want me to see her. Aretha at first thought we might see each other. Instead, we talked on the phone. I’d been with her the previous November when she played Elton John’s AIDS Foundation dinner. Her appearance really alarmed me. She was skeletal. I’m very sorry there are photos from that night floating around. That wasn’t the real Aretha.
That whole last year of 2017, Aretha was still out there, performing. I’m going backwards: In August she played the Mann Center in Philadelphia. I went down by train and we had dinner before the show. She was exhausted, she knew it was her last real show, but she wanted to prove she could still do it. And she did. It was a wowser of a show. During dinner I reminded her she “owed” me a performance of Stevie Wonder’s “Until You Come Back to Me.” Would she do it? “We’ll see,” she said slyly. (Sometimes she’d say yes, and then forget.) Well, it was the fourth number, and she even introduced me from the stage. I was in heaven.
I write about Aretha all the time. I’ll remember her every year and in between. One thing I’d like to convey this time is that Aretha was smart. She wasn’t smart not to leave a will, that was emotional. But she was smart about so many things in the arts, politics, history, and so on. She was educated. She read. Before she got very sick, she paid attention to everything. She surprised me all the time when she’d bring up a subject out of left field. She was a very good interviewer herself, and loved getting information out of people. When Instagram started, she loved it, and went crazy taking and posting pictures.
She left a close circle of friends. We are still in touch, some loosely, some more frequently. But if I ran into any of these people on the street, or at a function, the bond is there forever. She chose her friends wisely and deliberately. It was an honor almost beyond description to be in that group.
I was surprised when she died that “I Say a Little Prayer for You” took off again. It was really Dionne Warwick’s song. There are so many actual Aretha songs that are tougher and more representative of her. “Ain’t No Way” was one. “Seesaw” was another. “Bridge Over Troubled Water” had really become important to her again in recent years. So did a song called “My Cup Runneth Over,” originally recorded by Ed Ames. She’d perfected it so much — accompanying herself on piano — that I started filming it. Her performance was a revelation. The song was biblical. She was reassuring herself and telling us that her life had been good, and God would protect her now whatever happened because of her cancer. Each time she did it was transcendent.
In the last year she’d suddenly added to her set list a great Jerry Butler hit called “A Brand New Me” written by Jerry and Thom Bell and Kenny Gamble. I’d heard it in March at Mohegan Sun and commented on it. She hadn’t sung it live in a concert since the very early 70s, then tried it out in 2016. In her last year she performed it 8 times. Again, she accompanied herself on the piano and literally pushed herself into it. I didn’t understand this was her goodbye song. She was always changing, improving, no matter the obstacle. And she was always true to herself. That is Aretha Franklin’s legacy.
We will always miss you, my friend. I do hope you’re not making Willie crazy up there in heaven, but you;’re playing gigs and getting the cash up front. Willie is keeping it in the Vuitton bag under the piano until the show is over, and afterwards there’s plenty of soul food in the green room. Amen.
This is my same old coat These are my same old shoes It was the same old me With the same old blues
Oh, then you touched my life Just by holding my hand And when I look in the mirror I see a brand new girl, oh me
Just because of you, boy Just because of you whoa, oh, oh Just because of you, boy Just because of you
I got the same old friends And they’ve got the same old sins I tell them the same old jokes And I get the same old grins
But now the joke is on you It happened somehow with you Everyday of my life I’m as fresh as morning dew
Just because of you Just because of you, whoa, oh, oh, oh Just because of you, boy Just because of you
I go to the same old places I see the same old faces I look at the same old sky See it all with brand new eye
EXCLUSIVE
Donald Trump’s brother, Robert, died tonight after having a stroke, says an insider. He was 71.
Robert Trump, my source says, had been battling heart disease and cardiac issues for some time. “He had a bad heart,” the source said. He’d been hospitalized in June for heart problems.
I didn’t know Robert well, but I used to see him around town with his then wife, Blaine. Blaine was gorgeous and popular and smart. She loved being “the good Trump” and presenting herself and Robert as the classy alternative to Donald and Ivana, then Donald and Marla, and so on.
But Robert Trump was laid back. He wasn’t like his brother. He wanted to stay home and not wear a tuxedo. That’s what split up the marriage. He had adopted Blaine’s son from an earlier marriage. But Robert eventually remarried. He’d been living in Milbrook, New York and Garden City, Long Island in two incredible homes. Estates. He and Blaine had remained very friendly. She lives on the West Coast.
A few weeks ago it was Robert who sued to stop publication of niece Mary’s book. But it was Robert in name only. The suit was brought by Donald. Robert was the front man. He was already too ill to deal with it, I’m told.
My sources say, “He was a nice guy.” That’s the way he’ll be remembered, and you can’t do better than that.
It’s Saturday night, so strange Tweets from Kanye West and Madonna are on the docket.
This evening Kanye tweeted best wishes to Kanye West. Were they tongue in cheek or hubris? You decide. He wrote:
“I know my mom and Kamala Harris would have been friends … congratulations on being the democratic Vice President nominee
🙏🏾
… all love and respect from the future president
🕊
It’s an honor to run against you”
A little earlier he Tweeted that he was like for a Christian CFO of his company because he’d reached “5 billion.” 5 billion burgers? These are his mania days, for sure.
Earlier Tweets all day Saturday back into Friday were just random things that made no sense, only to him, I guess. There was an obscure jab about snakes referencing Taylor Swift that wasn’t worth the effort.
Not gonna use a snake emoji cause you know why … I’m not sure if Christians are allowed to use snake emojis 🤔 pic.twitter.com/CUR6SSRNqP
There was a time when a Terrence Malick movie was a big deal. That time was 1978, and the movie was “Days of Heaven.” Gorgeous, impressionistic, utterly unlike anything anyone had seen before, it remains a classic that starred Brooke Adams, Richard Gere, and Sam Shepard in a Gothic romantic triangle set in the Texas panhandle that seemed like a galaxy far, far, away.
What made the movie come together was the narration, spoken by 15 year old Linda Manz, whose accent– it sounded like she was from Brooklyn or the tough side of Chicago, cut through the dreamy, otherworldly kind of seance that Malick affected in the film. Manz was also on screen as Gere’s worldweary sister, dragged along by him on this misadventure. (In reality, Manz was from Manhattan.)
Manz, sadly, has died at 58. Her son, Michael Guthrie, has created a Go Fund Me page to offset burial expenses. He wrote: “It is with a broken and heavy heart that we ask you both as friends and family for your help with Linda Guthrie’s final expenses. Linda passed away August 14 after battling with lung cancer and pneumonia. she leaves behind a husband two son’s and three grand children who all love and miss her tremendously, Linda was a loving wife, a caring mom, a wonderful grandma and a great friend who was loved by many.
what ever you can do to help with the funeral will be greatly appreciated. Thank you and God bless.
rest in peace we love you MOM.”
There are already nice donations from Tony Kushner, Bradley Whitford, my friend producer Rachael Horovitz, and many others including yours truly. (Linda’s voice in that movie will haunt me– in a good way– for the rest of my life.) They’re still short of their $10,000 goal, but I’m sure Malick, Gere, and Adams will give, even if anonymously.
Manz was married to cameraman Bobby Guthrie and had three sons. She appeared in a handful of movies after “Days of Heaven,” including “Out of the Blue,” written and directed by the late great Dennis Hopper. She also had an uncredited role in Frank Pierson’s “King of the Gypsies.” I remember when we saw her in it, everyone was so excited to see this ethereal, magical presence from “Days of Heaven” in a second movie.
God bless her, she will be missed but always remembered.
The Hamptons season would not be eh, “The Season” without all-star comedy from Eugene Pack. He’s the guy who created the hilarious annual staple, “Celebrity Autobiography.”
Pack is back! This Sunday he’s premiering, “The Pack,” a program of three new works to benefit Guild Hall, starring Matthew Broderick and John Leguizamo performing together for the first time. The rest of the cast is pretty impressive: Blair Underwood and Sherri Shepherd, “SNL” stars Rachel Dratch and Cecily Strong, two time Tony winner Andrea Martin, plus Tony winner Santino Fontana and “30 Rock” star Maulik Pancholy. Be on the lookout for the talented Dayle Reyfel. The plays inaugurate the final leg of a play series that will include some live, distanced, performances in the Guild Hall garden, all sold out.
Reached by phone in Los Angeles, playwright/ performer, Eugene Pack said he is busy bringing actors together, but he wants everyone to know “The Pack” owes more to film, although it sounds more like an innovative hybrid, reflecting our current states of creativity.
The elements, familiar from his popular “Celebrity Autobiography” evenings, line up nicely: Broderick and Leguizamo are filmed together (but separate) in a coffee house. For the first, Underwood and Shepherd are on the phone for the second, and in the third, Dratch, Strong, and co. are on Zoom. What could be more representative of this moment? The fun is, says Pack, “You click on the link and watch as a shared experience. Now more than ever, even more so, we can see what can be done with these actors. The big challenge was the time restraint. We have great material, but had the actors only for an hour, and they are perfect for this experience, a short comedy form, not a staged reading.”
So how does he direct remotely? “I can see everyone watching each other. I give notes to the actors and editors, stage managers and producers.” Inspired by the podcasts he makes in LA, starring the many actors he has brought together over the years, The Pack may be an experiment in entertainment, and a way to keep us laughing.
PS East Hampton’s Guild Hall is like every other local theater around the country. They need money to stay afloat during this crazy time. But they’re certainly putting on an inventive summer. You can still buy tickets to watch Julianne Moore and Alec Baldwin in Bob Balaban’s staged reading of “Same Time Next Year” by clicking here.
Donald Trump’s niece, Mary L. Trump, is giving an interview right now to Jane Fonda on her Sirius XM talk show and live on Greenpeace’s Zoom.
I will put the interview up when concluded.
A caller asked about the relationship between Donald and his ailing brother, currently in the hospital in New York and “gravely ill.”
Mary says that when she was in the family, Robert and Donald “hated each other.” She also said that Robert has been a few times in the last three months and she hopes he’s all right.
Mary is promoting her best selling book, “Too Much and Not Enough.” She is unsparing in her view of Donald, and of her grandfather, Fred Trump. She’s smart and articulate. She’s also a therapist, and is educated enough to know of what she’s speaking.
I’ve been told that Robert Trump, while considered “lovely,” has also battled heart ailments his whole life. He’s lived a very quiet life with his second wife in upstate New York, in a posh town full of horse farms.
Don’t cry for Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber. The composer of “Evita,” “Cats,” and many other Broadway musicals says on Twitter that he’s completed the Oxford Covid-19 vaccine trial. He says: “I’ll do anything to get theatres large and small open again and actors and musicians back to work.”
Sir ALW owns theaters that are closed and shows that aren’t playing anywhere. He just closed “Phantom of the Opera” in London’s West End, and its touring companies. The New York edition is obviously closed. My guess he’ll drink Clorox at this point to, as they used to say, get the show back on the road.
Just completed the Oxford Covid-19 vaccine trial. I’ll do anything to get theatres large and small open again and actors and musicians back to work. – ALW #SaveOurStages@nivassocpic.twitter.com/pIcYZJPLps
