Gary Oldman heard of his Best Actor nod “in the middle of my last interview in this ‘Tinker, Tailor’ p.r. circus. The news was better than sex. Even beats Wiener schnitzel.
“For Bertolucci’s ‘The Last Emperor,” I once did the Oscars, but I don’t remember the year.
“This time I know my wife will represent the Brits on the red carpet. She’ll wear Stella McCartney. I’m excited about the whole thing. I’m like a pig in s – – t.”
“I haven’t many awards. Ugly ones like what I got in Seattle, Dale Chihuly’s strange-looking glass thing, are in my cupboard. Pretty ones I show. Some years I just go on with my life. Don’t even watch the telecast. When you’re on the ride, however, you realize it’s huge work. A big deal. The whole friggin’ world knows.
“It made me reminisce. In repertory, earning 13 pounds — 20 bucks — a week, first line I ever spoke was playing reporter Fred Dyson for the ‘Yorkshire Argus’ newspaper. So after all these years, how am I? OK, but not rich. I’ve had a few marriages.
“New York’s great, but I live in LA by default. The work’s there. I have children. I play piano, guitar, bang a little on the ukulele. Next up is an unsavory film, ‘Motor City,’ a modern revenge tragedy with sparse dialogue.
“And someday if it all stops, I’ll look toward living in Tuscany.”
Traffic snarls due to Justin Timberlake filming “Inside Llewyn Davis,” about Greenwich Village in the ’60s, upsetting Woodsiders . . . Those who have seen Zsa Zsa, 95, report she’s sedated. Doesn’t recognize them . . . Chris Noth’s old Cutting Room club re-emerging in March. Upscale. Larger. Better kitchen. Electric guitar hanging from the ceiling. New venue: 32nd between Park & Mad, across from Artisanal.
Questions that must be answered:
If a mime’s arrested, has he the right to remain silent?
And, if a hearing-impaired minor swears, does his mother wash his hands out with soap?
Christian Siriano fashion show. From 11th Avenue’s grungy venue, the line was a block. I puffed up pridefully as someone immediately snapped my photo. Then he said: “Say your name into the camera.” Me: “You don’t know who I am?” Him: “Almost everyone here nobody’s ever heard of.” I puffed down quickly.
Bravo’s “It’s a Brad Brad World” Brad Goreski, in red wool checked scarf, blue patent-leather shoes, black-rimmed glasses, surveyed the crowd. Like a blond blond male with full-length beige fur coat and large handbag. Mid-afternoon a female in a cocktail dress. Oy, we’re not talking Givenchy look-alikes. Said Brad: “Maybe being it’s fashion, they feel a freedom to exercise their fantasy.”
A reporter asked was I the designer’s fan. I said, “No. A day I hugged Carolina Herrera and dined with Oscar de la Renta, 11-year-old Siriano had no time for me, so I came to see what he does. And it’s not bad.”
But, truth is, Chanel would be rolling over in her shoulder pads.
From Clive Davis’ discovery to her leaving the stage this weekend, what do I remember about Whitney Houston? Let me count the ways.
Trying a simple quiet Atlanta life with daughter Bobbi. Dining in sweats at Beverly Hills eatery Cuts.
At Harry Connick’s listening party. Demanding private planes then not showing up for a Germany award. Unglam, smelling of liquor and smoke at a convenience store. Asking Quincy Jones to help with a hit. Sending congrats to Jennifer Hudson.
Earning $100 mil by age 26. Visiting her dad in the hospital. “New” Whitney thanking Norman Vincent Peale’s church. In ’03, eight Internet sites. Standing ovation in Russia. On Essence magazine’s cover.
Stiffed scheduled appearances in Rome. Up-and-down marriage to Bobby Brown. Eating at the Broadway Diner. Touring with her cats. Sang for a presidential birthday. Gave Ontario suite to Queen Elizabeth. Treating whole staff to Europe vacation. Traveling light with 10 45-foot trucks, $2 mil in gear, 500 costumes, 300 shoes, own location furniture and dressing rooms.
A Greg Kelly P.S. I spoke to your father twice during that headline dance, but even Rosanna Scotto told me your numbers had changed. Couldn’t reach you, but this is to say that I was sure there for you.
Grammy-grabbing Herb Alpert and wife Lani Hall make their Café Carlyle debut the 28th . . . French cuisine was once the It food. Now, Italian. Try Fiorini on East 56th. Lello the owner’s pasta beats being in Rome . . . Special Valentine’s Night package for “Spider-Man”: backstage access, private rest room, meet ’n’ greet the cast afterward . . . For Westminster’s Best in Show tomorrow, could be the white poodle but big money’s on Iris Love’s Pekingese Malachy. Even trainer David Fitzpatrick’s Irish.
Third Avenue. Woman holding her infant baby while puffing on a cigarette and buying another pack.
Only in New York, kids, only in New York.