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We don’t just report off-beat news, breaking news and digest the best and worst of the news media analysis and commentary. We give an original take on what happened and why. We add lols, satire, news photos and original content.

Nosh & Becks

‘IN the same way that English cricket has been searching for the next Ian Botham since Beefy put away his trusty blade, the magazines are on the look out for the new Posh & Becks.

A little boy lost

Many have been auditioned for the role – Jamie and Louise Redknapp, Harry Kewell and Sheree Murphy and even Bryan and Kerry McFadden – but none have yet passed muster.

Jamie played football for England and Louise was a pop star of little discernible talent, but the thirst for publicity wasn’t quite there.

Harry was another international footballer, but he was Australian and wife Sheree was a mere soap actress.

And although Kerry McFadden showed a similar lack of talent as Posh in her days with an all-girl group, Bryan’s only similarity to Becks was his inability to keep his pecker for the exclusive use of his wife.

But among all these Dominic Corks, David Capels, Chris Lewises and Adam Hollioakes, OK! thinks it has found an Andrew Flintoff – Danny Murphy and Joanna Taylor.

Danny plays football for England (or at least he has played football for England) and, although Joanna is one of very few soap stars not to try her hand at a pop career, she does have one thing in common with Posh – an obsession about her weight.

In fact, Joanna tells OK! how her drive to lose weight got out of hand.

“I was a bit bony and Danny told me I was starting to look like a little boy,” she says.

“I’ve got to find a balance with a weight he’s happy with and I’m happy with.”

But Joanna is quick to disown the mantle of the new Posh & Becks.

“There will never be another Posh and Becks,” she says sagely from her holiday in Mauritius, “and I wouldn’t like to be like them.

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m sure it’s really nice to have great press attention and there are so many plusses, but when it goes wrong – whether it’s true or not – it’s so public.”

And so the search goes on…’

Posted: 10th, May 2004 | In: Reviews | Comment


Gosh & Becks

‘SOMETIMES what we are looking for is so close that we cannot see it – and perhaps that is true about OK!’s search for a new Posh & Becks.

‘I could eat Posh for breakfast and still ‘ave room for a kebab for afters’

Rather than trying to force the crown onto the reluctant heads of Danny Murphy and Joanna Taylor, the magazine should look elsewhere in its own magazine.

No, not at Jordan and Peter Andre or even Catherine Zeta Jones and Michael Douglas, but at Jade Goody and Jeff Brazier.

Jeff, after all, is a former Leyton Orient footballer and Jade is, er, a woman who has become famous for no apparent reason.

Jeff has, like Becks, also been the victim of a kiss-and-tell story in which a woman accused him of having a fling with her while Jade was pregnant – although, in Jeff’s case, it turned out not to be true.

They already have one child – Bobby, as opposed to Brooklyn – and another due in October.

And they are as hungry for publicity as Vanessa Feltz at an all-you-can-eat buffet.

In fact, everything seems perfect for the couple to inherit the mantle of the new Posh & Becks apart from one small detail – they split up hours after OK! went to press.

Or maybe that’s just a case of art imitating reality…’

Posted: 10th, May 2004 | In: Reviews | Comment


Tosh & Becks

‘WHY do we need a new Posh & Becks, you might ask, when you see the original version wandering around Madrid hand in hand.

Only boring poeple get bored

It’s a good question, but the answer appears to be that OK! columnist Kerry McFadden is bored of them.

In her hard-hitting column, the pop weeble says she can’t understand people going to the National Portrait Gallery to watch a video of Beckham sleeping.

“What has happened to the world?” she asks. “This is getting beyond a joke.”

We wholeheartedly agree. Next thing they’ll be sending a load of fourth-rate celebrities off to the jungle and film them sitting around all day whining about how hungry they are.

Or locking up 12 complete losers in a house for two months and showing them sunbathing.

Surely, it could never happen…’

Posted: 10th, May 2004 | In: Reviews | Comment


Ace’s Wild

‘INSIDE every rock chick there is a suburban housewife just waiting to get married, get pregnant and get her face in the pages of Hello! magazine.

‘D’you want spag bol or lasagne for your dinner, Liam?’

So much water has flowed under the celebrity bridge since All Saints called it quits that younger readers might not know who Natalie Appleton is.

But way back in the days when Gareth Gates was just a young virgin from Bradford with a stammer, barely a day went by when Natalie and her sister Nicole weren’t in the papers.

They partied hard, squired by a succession of famous boyfriends – for Nat, the likes of Mayfair dungeon regular Jamie Theakston and the first Mr Angelina Jolie, Jonny Lee Miller; for Nic, Robbie Williams, Bush’s Gavin Rossdale and even Leonardo DiCaprio.

But deep down all the sisters really wanted was to find their own rock star husband, hole up in their own rock star mansion and start popping out little rock stars and rock chicks.

And so it is that Natalie, or Mrs Liam Howlett as she is known since her marriage to the Prodigy star, throws open the doors of the couple’s Essex home and invites Hello! inside to meet baby Ace.

She tells us how Ace was born by caesarean section at London’s St John & Elizabeth Hospital on March 2, how he contracted a chest infection soon after birth and how he spent his first few days in intensive care at the ‘exclusive’ Portland Hospital as doctors cleared the oxygen that had accumulated round his chest.

She reveals that Liam is a hands-on father, changing nappies, helping out with feeds and getting up early to allow his wife some extra sleep.

And she talks about how her 11-year-old daughter Rachel (by stripper Karl Robinson) has adapted to the new addition to the family.

‘There is a blanket of happiness around everything I do,’ Natalie says.

And with that she was back off into the kitchen to prepare a nice meal for when Liam gets home from work…’

Posted: 6th, May 2004 | In: Reviews | Comment


Forfeit For A King

‘IF only all men were like Prince Johan Friso of the Netherlands!

‘Good to see that Billy The Gravedigger and Four Fingers Freda could make it’

He performed what Hello! describes as ‘the ultimate romantic gesture’ in marrying Mabel Wisse Smit – he gave up his right to be king.

Forget flowers, a box of chocolates or even a moonlit stroll along a deserted beach.

This year’s romantic gesture says so much more…and we hope that many more people will follow Prince Johan’s lead.

To get the ball rolling, we at Anorak have decided today publicly to forfeit any right we have to the British throne (although for the time being we’re keeping our options open with regards to the Swedish one).

Cynics might say that, at 10,765,894th in line, our chances of acceding were on the thin side of slim, but it’s the thought that counts.

As it was indeed with Prince Johan, who is Queen Beatrix’s second son and was therefore not exactly a shoo-in as it was.

The reason why Prince Johan has been cast back into the pool of commoners, albeit with the title Prince Of Orange-Nassau, is that Mabel has something of a chequered past.

Hello! reports that the 35-year-old is rumoured to have had a relationship with underworld boss Klaas Bruinsma, who was murdered in a gangland killing.

Mabel denied the accusations, insisting that she barely knew him – until it emerged during the prenuptial vetting process that she had spend nights aboard his yacht.

But a small detail like that wasn’t going to put off the prince, who married her anyway.

‘Every day by her side brings a new surprise,’ he said.

Like waking up next to a horse’s head, for instance…’

Posted: 6th, May 2004 | In: Reviews | Comment


The Running Woman

‘WE received the news that yet again we at Anorak had failed to make it into Time’s list of the 100 most powerful and influential people of 2004 with our customary equanimity.

‘By ‘eck, Joe. The sheep have got out of the bottom field’

That’s not to say we weren’t disappointed, of course, but we were happy to accept that the likes of Bill Gates, Rupert Murdoch and even President George Dubya wield a bit more power than us.

Until, that is, we saw the name of Paula Radcliffe in the list.

Now, we have nothing against Paula – in fact, we rather like the way her head goes all lopsided when she runs.

But power and influence? Is she going to take on Ariel Sharon over 5,000m with the winner given carte blanche to redraw the map of the Middle East?

Was it Paula’s marathon successes that finally persuaded Colonel Gadafi that he should seek a rapprochement with the West?

Or perhaps it was Paula’s triumph in last year’s Sports Personality Of The Year award that rallied the US economy and saw stock markets around the world regain some of the ground they had lost over the previous 18 months?

You can call it sour grapes if you want to, but we notice that there is another notable absentee from the list – Patsy Kensit, ex-wife to most of Britain’s music industry.

Patsy is off men at the moment, which is what all women say when they can’t get laid, and into Emmerdale.

And she doesn’t take kindly to those who mock.

‘I find it really offensive that anyone should suggest that taking Emmerdale is a step down,’ she tells Hello!

A step down? Not us, Patsy. In fact, we’d say it is the highlight of your career to date…’

Posted: 6th, May 2004 | In: Reviews | Comment


Future Perfect

‘BEFORE OK! has even begun talking with Russell Grant, he’s already answered all their questions and written his carefully constructed replies on a sheet of paper.

On a beermat near you

This modern day Rasputin, who was taken into Princess Diana’s confidence, is always one step ahead of the game.

To go with the written word, he’s also produced some pictures, which he knew OK! and its readers would like.

In them, we see Russell’s Snowdonian hide-away, his tartan-carpeted dining-room and a wicker chair on which is sat a yellow scatter cushion with a red ladybird on top.

As for the clothes… well, even the best of soothsayers has an off day.

But given Russell’s gift of foresight, it’s an oddity that he did not realise just how awful the green moo moo with the gold brocade would look when transferred to the pages of OK!

It might well be that ‘it’s easy to feel giddy when Russell starts detailing the projects he working on’, but the lurching sensation is not calmed with a look at Russell a la mode.

As it happens, Russell is indeed a busy man. He’s planning a 13-part show for American TV in which he interviews American stars, a six-week showbiz series in LA and a ‘series of astrological DVDs for Spain’.

‘I’m like Lycra,’ says Russell. ‘I need to be stretched.’

But surely not to breaking point, until the entire thing starts to come apart at the seams with the massive strain of holding in Russell’s considerable talents.

But Russell is composed and oddly cool for a man wrapped in metaphorical figure-hugging Lycra. Indeed, he soon recalls a kind of waking dream he had.

It began with a conversation with Matthew Kelly. ‘He pleaded with me to do a programme with him for Yorkshire telly, and I said ‘No. I’ve been doing it for 38 years and I’ve had enough.’

But he relented, and on the way to meet with Kelly, there came a moment of clarity.

Driving down to the meeting with Matthew, Russell ‘received a psychic message for Matthew’.

‘I saw a policeman,’ he explains, ‘then people from his past life came to me in voice.’

They came from the dashboard of his car. ‘This is the news from the BBC,’ said one voice. ‘Matthew Kelly has been arrested on suspicion of child abuse…’

But that came to nought; Kelly was acquitted on all counts, precipitating the happy ending for the presenter that Russell foresaw.

‘I knew the future would be bright,’ says Russell. ‘It had been foretold 18 months earlier.’

And with that Russell is gone. And the OK! magazine is gone. And the odd thing is that when we rang the offices of the famed showbiz glossy, do you know what they said?

They said Russell had not been interviewed, although they do have plans to meet him in the winter of 2005 – right after that unsavoury incident with the tartan-carpet salesman…’

Posted: 4th, May 2004 | In: Reviews | Comment


Big Bother

‘DO you wonder what the future holds in store for Kate Lawler? Russell Grant is saying nothing, so we can only conclude that the future holds nothing.

In fine spittle

The winner of Big Brother something-or-other will do nothing. She will appear in nothing. Nothing will happen to her. She will go nowhere, whether on a short or long journey. She will meet no-one, dark mysterious strangers included. Her career will come to nothing.

Remember, Lawler fans, that this is not us speaking but the crystal ball, the tarot cards and opened palms crossed with silver that make up Russell Grant’s life.

We, on the other had, wish Kate Lawler the very best of luck in whatever she does, even if it is merely ordering another ice-cream to complement the one OK! watches her devour.

She might, as is the way with Big Brother winners, go on to appear at Liverpool’s Newz Bar and, while there, dine on a meal of goats cheese spring rolls with petite nicoise salad.

OK! offered that exact meal to Craig Phillips, winner of Big Brother 1, and his mouth watered at the prospect.

Of course, Craig’s mouth waters most of the time. Craig who sounds like he’s drowning in a sea of spittle, can be seen seated alongside his beloved Sharon, dressed for their date in a wet-suit.

The multi-talented pair can turn their hands to DIY and modelling just as easily as they can get their mouths around some chateaubriand with béarnaise sauce in a jus of, er, spittle.

It’s little surprise that over the three course of their meal, Craig and Sharon wear three different outfits each.

Thankfully, they are all drip dry, which means that by the time Craig has drenched the last one of Sharon’s dresses in his Scouse charm and bits of angel food cake, her first outfit is ready for another showering.’

Posted: 4th, May 2004 | In: Reviews | Comment


Smoke Signals

”REBECCA LOOS IS A TALENTLESS TRAMP.’

‘You’d never catch me posing topless…’

Once more we are reduced to the role of humble messenger, and only repeat the words on Kerry McFadden, who is still pulling no punches and mincing no words in her OK! diary.

McPadding is unhappy that Loos is parading around the place and even appearing as a celebrity (a word McPadding puts in inverted commas to emphasise her disgust).

As a true celebrity and not a ‘celebrity’ like that untalented Loos, McCladding can give us a unique perspective of how things are viewed from within the VIP lounge.

Kerry is of the opinion that Loos and Sara Marbeck should open a brothel and call it Kiss And Tell.

Although, they should take care that it’s not attached to a lap-dancing club or else a certain Bryan McPudding might be a visitor.

And they should also ensure that the venue allows smoking. If there is one thing Kerry cannot stand – apart from talentless trollops who sell anything about themselves for money – it’s not being able to smoke in pubs and clubs.

‘I can’t believe smoking is banned in public places in Ireland now,’ says Kerry. ‘It’s doing my head in.’

And it could be about to do in the heads in of those of us who live in Blighty because the situation has led Kerry to contemplate a move back home.

She is ‘literally’ on the verge of moving back to England. ‘I hate it and it’s enough to make me pack my bags.’

And we ours…’

Posted: 4th, May 2004 | In: Reviews | Comment


Brad Boy

‘IT’S hard to know who to feel more sorry for, Brad Pitt or Angelina Jolie, when they had to shoot a naked shower scene for their upcoming flick Mr And Mrs Smith.

The co-stars caught naked together

The studio couldn’t decide, according to the National Enquirer, so it decided to pay them both $2m extra ‘because of the nudity and intimacy involved’.

By right, Angelina should have got more – there is apparently a full-frontal shot of her in the movie, while Brad only has to bare his backside.

But is this extra money really necessary to persuade them to get their kit off in front of each other?

The Enquirer hears whispers of an off-screen romance as well.

The evidence for this may be as thin as Calista Flockhart’s skinny younger sister, but – hey! – why let the facts get in the way of a good rumour.

Exhibit A is the fact that Angelina began staying on set after shooting her scenes just to be with Brad. One night, they even had a couple of drinks together after work.

Exhibit B is the testimony of staff at the Downtown LA Standard hotel, who claim they saw the couple making out in the lounge area of the hotel.

‘Whether it was part of a movie scene, rehearsal or something else,’ a source says, ‘no-one really knows.’

The presence of a film crew recording the whole incident might have been complete coincidence.

Exhibit C is more oral testimony, this time from an extra, who says that a dance scene in the film was choreographed to look sexy…’and it did’.

‘I was wondering how much of the scene was acting and how much it was real passion,’ said the extra, who is still wondering

But there is more. The Enquirer reminds us that Angelina has a track record of falling for her co-stars – she met her first two husbands on a film set.

And Brad’s record in that regard is not bad – he went out with Geena Davis after meeting her on the set of Thelma & Louise and with Gwyneth Paltrow after she played his wife in Seven.

But most incriminating of all is a photograph, which shows Brad giving Angelina a peck on the cheek.

For us dissolute Europeans, that might seem as normal as shaking hands, but in America that constitutes heavy petting. No wonder Jennifer Aniston’s worried…’

Posted: 30th, April 2004 | In: Reviews | Comment


Simon Says

‘A KISS may be just a kiss, in the words of the song, and a smile may be just a smile, but put the two together and the result is dynamite.

‘You flirt, you!’

The pictures in this week’s Enquirer of TV’s Mr Nasty Simon Cowell kissing his fellow American Idol judge Paula Abdul may have been part of a skit.

But put them side by side with another picture of the couple smiling for the cameras, get one of Beverly Hills’ leading psychologists…and you’ve got a full-blown love affair.

‘Is it love?’ asks the magazine, noting that Cowell has changed his tune after pelting Paula with withering put-downs for the first two series of the hit show.

And on hand to answer that is Dr Lillian Glass, the Enquirer’s resident quack, who said Cowell’s earlier behaviour was just a way of hiding his true feelings.

‘He was like an adolescent young man,’ she says, ‘who, when attracted to a young lady, dips her pigtails in an inkwell.

‘However, this season he’s slowly becoming enamoured with Paula’s gentle and kind nature. You can see this when he looks at her and smiles, obviously charmed by her goodness.

‘He may be genuinely in love with her.’

Indeed. He might also have a tattoo of Randy Jackson on his backside – we just don’t know…’

Posted: 30th, April 2004 | In: Reviews | Comment


Tummy Trouble

‘CONGATULATIONS to Playboy – it is one of the few institutions in America that is actually doing something about the country’s obesity epidemic.

‘I’ll take my knickers off for another doughnut’

News is, courtesy of the Enquirer, that Hugh Heffner has ordered Britney Spears to lose 20lb before she poses topless for his magazine.

The magazine says the love-hungry 22-year-old has turned to food to fill the void left by Justin Timberlake – and has a photo of her flabby stomach to prove it.

An eyewitness at a party to celebrate her brother Bryan’s birthday reported that the singer was looking ‘fit but still quite porky’.

And this could scupper a mooted multi-million dollar deal with Playboy.

‘If Britney gets back into shape, there are only three things to negotiate,’ an insider says. ‘Is she slim enough? How much is she prepared to show? And how much money is it worth to her?’

Enough to buy an awful lot of Krispy Kremes, one suspects…’

Posted: 30th, April 2004 | In: Reviews | Comment


Raising An Eyebrow

‘BEFORE we go on, let’s just nip those rumours right in the bud. Like you, we’ve seen the picture of Lady Henrietta Palmer’s newborn son Alexander and put two and two together to make Colin Farrell.

Even the eyebrows look the same…

But our maths is wrong. The Irish actor, father to the lovely, delightful and most unusual James, has most likely never met Lady H, let alone gotten close enough to impregnate her.

Such suggestions as to her son’s parentage – whether fathered by feral Irish actor or baboon – seem to have occurred to the good Lady who is shown presenting her son to our awe-struck gaze and raising an incredulous eyebrow.

It’s as if she’s inviting us to say something. That raised eyebrow and the lofty position of her second born are daring us to say the unsayable.

So we won’t . We will demur and move on.

Instead, we’ll take a gander at her new house in South Africa. Like many houses in that country, it’s made of old Persil boxes and rubber tyres, albeit cunningly disguised to look like hard wood, chintz and brick.

We would like to ask her how she pulled off such a design masterstroke, but she’s lifted that eyebrow again, and, well, we don’t feel brave enough…’

Posted: 28th, April 2004 | In: Reviews | Comment


When In Rome…

‘LADY Henrietta’s eyebrow is 42-years-old. For many, that would be an age to fear but to others with blue blood coursing through their veins it’s no big deal.

‘Sexiness comes from within’

Take Lady Helen Taylor, who reveals to Hello! her thoughts on turning 40 this year.

‘Age is relative,’ says she. ‘It depends on where you are in your life and if you’re content.’

It sure does. And if, like Lady Helen, you’re in Rome with money in your pocket and barely a day’s work under your belt, you can be as calm and serene as a stoned monk.

You also have time on your hands to tell Hello!, and thus the world, about the thoughts you’ve had while wandering the streets in a T-shirt and sunglasses.

And something else has just occurred to Lady Helen. ‘Sexiness,’ says she, ‘comes from within.’ Sure it does.

‘It’s not even about clothes. It’s a certain attitude. It’s not overt but smouldering – below the surface.’

You can almost feel the draft as other 40-year-old women put down their ironing and copy of Prozac Monthly to nod in silent accord.

And that draft turns into something of a gale with Lady Helen’s next thought.

‘It took a while to adjust to having three children,’ ponders Lady Helen. ‘You only have one pair of hands.’

As, of course, do the nanny, cleaner, gardener, driver, nurse and au pair.’

Posted: 28th, April 2004 | In: Reviews | Comment


A Royal Tail

‘ROUNDING up this toff bulletin, Hello! pops along to the christening of Prince Edward’s daughter Lady Louise.

‘He’s got your hair!’

There she is, sitting on her mother’s knee, wrapped in a massive dress that we can only pray is not required to hide a long tail or third foot from her public.

Move on a page and there are a few more shots of mother, baby and the Weed In Tweed smiling and cooing.

But enough of them, it’s time to go to the do.

‘As the country basked in the glorious weather a small, select group of close family and friends gathered at the private chapel at Windsor Castle with proud parents Edward and Sophie.’

And that’s pretty much your lot. There are no shots of Lady Louise being dunked into the font. And that makes us think.

Is there something to hide? How much more bad luck can one little girl stand? She might have her father’s looks, but his tail! Well, that really would be the cruellest luck…’

Posted: 28th, April 2004 | In: Reviews | Comment


Becks’ Hand-Job

‘GERMAN-loving porn baron Richard Desmond last week announced that he was swinging the weight of his publishing stable behind the Tory party.

The back cover

The Express announced its “historic” decision in a front-page article which explained that it was fed-up with the “spin and deception” of Tony Blair’s Labour Government.

Asian Babes quoted the Government’s decision to go to war in Iraq as reason to withdraw its support, Big Ones condemned its tax-and-spend policies and Spunk Loving Sluts said they had lost all faith in the Prime Minister himself.

But what of OK!?

Well, unlike the Express, it appears not to have lost its appetite for spin and deception.

Indeed, this week it boasts an example of the dark arts that would make Alistair Campbell blush.

“Me, David Beckham And The Drunken Threesome,” promises the cover by way of introduction to a “world exclusive” interview with Jordan.

(The same “world exclusive”, incidentally, that Star readers have been enjoying over recent days.)

The story inside – available to anyone prepared to hand over the £2 cover price for the magazine – is of course the by-now-familiar tale of the England football captain’s night of shame.

The story of how he and wife Victoria lured Jordan back to Beckingham Palace, plied her with alcohol (and gourmet kebabs) and indulged in a night of unbridled carnality.

That at least was what we were expecting to read. The reality is somewhat different, but just as shocking.

At a party at a London club and while standing next to Victoria, David Beckham took hold of Jordan’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze – “as if to reassure me that I shouldn’t be overawed by all the hype”.

That’s right, he squeezed her hand – a gesture that is considered in certain circles of society (notably Jordan’s) much more risqué than, say, group sex.

Not that Jordan is any stranger to group sex – she reveals (as she had in the Star a week earlier) how she let ex-boyfriend Dane Bowers fulfil the ultimate fantasy, a threesome with her and another girl.

But letting him hold her hand and squeeze it gently? What kind of girl do you take Jordan for..?’

Posted: 26th, April 2004 | In: Reviews | Comment


Kerry Draws The Line

‘IF Jordan were the kind of girl to let a man hold her hand on the first – or indeed any – date, then she would not be a friend of OK! columnist, Kerry McPadding.

‘You wouldn’t catch me sleeping with Becks’

But she is not and she is – in fact, Jordan and Kerry are such good mates that the former Atomic Kitten wife of the former Westlife singer Bryan McPudding has been promised the first copy of Jordan’s book.

And, what is more, she’s going to read it – as long, of course, as it doesn’t contain too many long words and she hasn’t already seen every word in the pages of the Star and OK!

“I think this is different to those people who do kiss-and-tells,” says Kerry, explaining her decision to read Jordan/Katie Price’s kiss-and-tell story.

“This book is Katie’s life and it just so happens there are a few celebrities in there because Katie is a celebrity.

“When a complete stranger goes and sells a story, it’s not the same.”

That’s why Kerry thinks Rebecca Loos should shut her gob and get “a bit of dignity”.

After all, there’s a big difference between only sleeping with someone and having them gently squeeze your hand…’

Posted: 26th, April 2004 | In: Reviews | Comment


They Shop ‘Til We Drop

‘CONGRATULATIONS to whichever advertising agency it is that has the account for the Sci-Fi channel!

Buy two turnips and get a free child

We at Anorak have always maintained that the ability to spell was vastly overrated.

In fact, we would go as far as saying that the slogan ‘Ally McWierd’ emblazoned across the advert in Hot Stars magazine for The New Twilight Zone is much more memorable than the prosaic, if correct, ‘Ally McWeird’.

But talking about prosaic, Hot Stars has its very own exclusive picture story of Charlize Theron shopping for fruit and veg in West Hollywood.

Not only that, but on the next page we can see exclusive pictures of Kelly Osbourne wheeling her trolley around a supermarket.

This is too much! Too exciting! We can’t take any more. Please, not a picture of Halle Berry, you guessed it, shopping…’

Posted: 26th, April 2004 | In: Reviews | Comment


Game, Set And Match

‘ANYONE who saw Gigli or Jersey Girl cannot have failed to realise, first, they were alone in the cinema and, secondly, that the film set is no place for a lasting romance.

The green-eyed monster

But it is a great place to have an affair.

And from one Jen we now move seamlessly onto another, namely Jennifer Aniston, who (according to the National Enquirer) fears she is losing husband Brad Pitt to Angelina Jolie.

The Jolie one and Pitt have been spending lots of time together of late, filming Alexander together and then playing Mr and Mrs Smith in a film of that name.

Now rumours abound that the film’s steamy sex scenes are taking longer to shoot than is the norm, so causing the pair to rub up against each other more than is usual…and Jen to worry.

“I think Jennifer is consumed by jealousy and insecurity,” says a source, “and she won’t be happy until this flick’s finishes and Brad’s on-camera sex antics are over.”

Given Angelina’s track record in falling for her co-stars, Jennifer has a right to be concerned.

The Enquirer reminds readers that Angelina met and then married Jonny Lee Miller on the set of Hackers. The pair then divorced.

Undeterred by that failure, Angelina then met and married Billy Bob Thornton after meeting him on the set of Pushing Tin.

As for Brad, he fell for Geena Davis on the set of Thelma & Louise and Juliette Lewis while filming Too Young To Die. He later became engaged to Gwyneth Paltrow after starring with her in Se7en.

Now a source says Angelina is smitten with Brad and “the chemistry between them is tremendous”.

So Jennifer has been a frequent visitor to the set, looking for signs of cheating and making sure nothing’s been going on.

And if she can’t find Angelina and Brad there, she can always look them up at, say, a local hotel – under the names of Mr and Mrs Smith.’

Posted: 23rd, April 2004 | In: Reviews | Comment


Society Of Freinds

‘“THE fears we have in other people are often a manifestation of our own anxieties about ourselves.”

Like, just say no

We read that somewhere in Hollywood once and, at the time, the pop psychology made enough sense to get its own chat show, a book deal and a bumper sticker.

The line is not without it merits, especially when we learn that Jennifer Aniston’s concerns over her own marriage could be linked to her own behaviour.

The Enquirer says that Aniston has been accused of “corrupting America’s teens” by pressurising them to have cosmetic surgery, wear pastel-colours and say things like “like, yer know”, “hey you” and “ohmygod” for no apparent reason. In short, to be like her.

The furore centres on Rachel Green, the character Jennifer plays in Friends, a woman who has slept with around 20 men throughout the show’s history.

And many viewers are not happy with what they’ve seen. People, like, you know, Dr Gilda Carle, who is billed here as a “renowned relationships expert”.

“Young women are already in a lot of trouble from entering into sexual relationships too early and too easily, and Jennifer’s character has given them the green light to sleep around – and make it look cool too!” says Carle.

Which might just mean that, at the root of any alleged romance between Angelina Jolie and Jen’s husband Brad Pitt, there might be a video of Friends – The One With The X-Certificate.’

Posted: 23rd, April 2004 | In: Reviews | Comment


Beware False Idols

‘IT’S interesting to think that without Rachel from Friends we might not have had Paris Hilton.

Love me, love my…

In the bright and distant days before Friends arrived on our TV screens, introducing all that corrupting casual sex and blasphemy, Paris would have been just another rich girl with a pointy face and no talent.

Now she is the emblem of American youth, what the millions of Britneys, Brads, Troys and Ambers aspire to.

Like Rachel, Paris has what seems to be an obsession with her appearance, has told the world about her sex life (and got the video to prove it) and is the daughter of a rich man.

And now she’s been seen by the Enquirer hosing down a huge pink truck outside Austin, Texas.

To Americans, this is interesting stuff. And it is a timely warning to us Brits of what happens when you watch too much TV.’

Posted: 23rd, April 2004 | In: Reviews | Comment


Windsor Not

‘THERE used to be a time when the Royal Family would holiday together at Windsor Castle every Easter.

The way things were

But children grow up, flee the nest, marry, have affairs, get divorced and go walking in Scotland instead.

Hello! catches a glimpse of Prince Charles and his mistress Camilla Parker Bowles enjoying a stroll around the Balmoral estate, miles away from the rest of the clan.

And he wasn’t the only one missing – his brother, Prince Andrew, also gave the occasion a swerve.

Unlike Charles, Andrew did at least have a good excuse – he was hard at work in his capacity as roving ambassador for Britain watching the US Masters golf in Augusta.

But every cloud has a silver lining and Camilla’s absence meant that the way was open for the Countess of Wessex to claim victory in the style stakes as the family went to the Easter Sunday service in St George’s Chapel.

For the record, she was wearing a vivid fuchsia and burgundy Nehru-style jacket and skirt with matching flower-shaped hat ‘worn at a jaunty angle’.

It is that combination of style and jauntiness that tamed even such a confirmed bachelor as Fast Eddie.’

Posted: 21st, April 2004 | In: Reviews | Comment


The Name’s Bond

‘THERE should be some statute of limitations on reality TV shows, a specified period after which participants have to fade back into the obscurity whence they came.

‘Brrrrrrring, Brrrrrrring!’

A kind of celebrity alarm clock that rings loud when a person’s 15 minutes of fame are up.

If there were, Jennie Bond, former BBC Royal correspondent and runner-up in I’m A Celebrity earlier this year, would not be asking for whom the bell tolls. It tolls for you, Jennie.

But deaf to all she does not want to hear, Jennie continues to cash in on her few moments basking in the celebrity sunshine.

She has recently returned from a lecture tour aboard a cruise liner, she has begun filming a candid series about the Royal Family for five, and ‘she may do a show with I’m A Celebrity sparring partner Lord Brocket’.

Of course, even with British television in the parlous state it is, we know that that is a programme that will never be made.

But with the aid of Hello!, Jennie can at least keep the pretence going as she shows us round her south Devon home.

The 53-year-old has given up her job with the BBC and moved out of London so she can spend more time with husband Jim and 14-year-old daughter Emma.

And these days when the phone rings and it is the BBC on the other end of the line, Jennie does not have to rush off.

‘It’s a liberating feeling,’ she says. ‘I’m in control now.’

But what happens when they stop calling, Jennie? What will you do when the only thing you can hear is a deathly silence disturbed only by a faint ringing sound..?’

Posted: 21st, April 2004 | In: Reviews | Comment


Attention Seekers

”SAD, attention-seeking and pathetic.’ No, that’s not Jackie Adams talking about her daughter Victoria, but her verdict on Rebecca Loos and Sarah Marbeck.

‘Whos she calling ‘sad, attention-seeking and pathetic’?’

‘I think it’s just girls trying to get into the limelight, that’s all,’ she reportedly told a close family friend (who spoke exclusively to Hello!) about stories of her son-in-law’s supposed affairs.

And no-one would know more about girls trying to get into the limelight than the mother of the ultimate self-publicist herself.

But Jackie’s had enough of the lurid coverage of Day-vid and his life in Madrid.

‘I think people are sick of reading all this ridiculous stuff in the papers now,’ she says. ‘We are. It’s dragged on too long.’

For once, we at Anorak are in full agreement. We’d much prefer to go back to a time when we could concentrate on what Victoria was wearing, what David had done with his hair and just how perfect their marriage was.’

Posted: 21st, April 2004 | In: Reviews | Comment


Addicted To Love

‘“THE SHOCK TRUTH,” gasps OK! on its front cover. “THE ONLY PEOPLE WHO KNOW REVEAL ALL TO OK!”

The lights are on, but no-one’s home…

Sadly for the magazine, a number of women have stepped forward since Rebecca Loos made what David Beckham called a “ludicrous” claim about their affair to do likewise.

Sensation has been negated by familiarity. With each passing day, another woman steps forward and says she slept with Mr Posh.

Indeed, the “only“ people that do not know “the truth” may now occupy a smaller group than those women who have slept with old Goldenballs.

As such, we should ignore the story. Things have moved on apace since OK! dashed to Courchevel to see Posh prance about in the snow with Dave.

But however hard we try, we cannot just go. Old habits die hard.

Such has been the dominance of the Beckhams over the past few years that switching the celebrity flashbulb off in an instant is hard.

Better to use a dimmer switch and slowly let them slip, slip, slip away, until all that’s left is Posh’s inane grin…’

Posted: 19th, April 2004 | In: Reviews | Comment