TV did a special this week on Madagascar’s wild animals, like lemurs. They only crave food. I did a screening this week on “Hateship Loveship.” Its Hollywood tame animals, like Kristen Wiig and Christine Lahti, also crave food.
Christine: “I’m from California, but spending this week in New York. No shopping. Just eating. I’ll see theater, but I’ll visit every restaurant there is. I intend to eat my way through the city.”
Skinny Kristen, sheathed in a tight, tight J. Mendel sheath: “Listen, despite this borrowed dress, which I don’t think I can keep, I’m an eater. For lunch I had a burger. No ketchup, but lots of cheese.”
The Cinema Society’s blonde Haley whispered, “Ask Kristen about getting Letterman’s job. I hear she’s up for it. She’d be great.” So I asked, “Getting Letterman’s job? I hear you’re up for it. You’d be great.” Answer: “Really? You heard that? I know nothing about it.”
Christine: “In this film I play Nick Nolte’s love interest. There’s a very romantic scene.” You naked? “No! Not doing that in my 60s. Wouldn’t even do that in my 20s. I’m fully clothed, but it’s very seductive.”
Kristen, Christine, all we needed was Kirstie Alley, Kirsten Dunst and some Kris Krispies.
Odds & ends
P.R.’s Peggy Siegal, getting more p.r. than her clients, is sending around Avenue magazine with her Oscar coverage. Her crackerjack staff shouldn’t look for a nomination. My accompanying letter reads: “Dear Dany” . . . Tobey Maguire giggling boyishly at “A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder” . . . Backstage at “Kinky Boots,” Donnie Kehr, who’s in Clint Eastwood’s coming “Jersey Boys” movie, announcing a coming edition of his “Rockers on Broadway.”
All in a hard day’s work
Gammy winner, Emmy nominee, quintuple Tony winner Audra McDonald, opening Sunday in B’way’s “Lady Day at Emerson’s Bar and Grill”: “Television’s the toughest. Relentless. TV owns you. It’s work from 5 a.m. until who knows how late. Normal is 14 hours. You don’t know in advance what your schedule will be like.
“Broadway, with a husband and two kids, there’s not enough hours in the day. You don’t get a lot of sleep. But at least it’s finite hours. It’s hit the dressing room. Be quiet. Be alone. Don’t chitchat. I need to be really quiet. People think I’m not friendly. But it’s because I go inward.
“But curtain’s up 8:05. And I’m over by 11. With TV, I couldn’t even schedule a doctor appointment.”
Off-camera…
Chris Cuomo doing daddy duty crossing 87th and Lex with a daughter. In sweats, he shlepped an Organic Avenue shopping bag . . . Rosanna Scotto telling anyone that her a.m. Fox-TVer with Greg Kelly grabs higher daily NYC ratings than all three other morning blabathons.
Separation quide
Gwyneth’s “uncoupling” dates to 1972’s “Uncoupling: The Art of Coming Apart.” Providing sanity “in one of the most difficult, complex problems,” the late divorce attorney Norman Sheresky discusses divorce, separation, guilt, custody, emotions, no fault, sex discrimination, unfaithfulness, birth control, religious affiliation, in-law misery, money and property issues, drawing up your own contract as to who pays what, plus “a harried judge and their own worst enemies — attorneys.”
All in one book for $6.95.
Third Ave and 54th post office. Lady requested one of many permutations of “a roll of the permanent stamps.” Teller: “The what?” Lady: “Those never-going-up-in-price-again ones.” Eavesdropper: “You talking of the whatever stamp? That back-to-the-future stamp?” Teller: “You mean those 49-cent evermore jobs?” Lady: “Yes, I’ll take a book of those now-and-forever nonstop things.”
Only in New York, kids, only in New York.