That haircut may be questionable, but it’s still no question that I would.
While Aaron Taylor-Johnson’s hair screamed army hipster dude and his beefed-up Ball Park frank body was squeezed into a tux, he posed with wife Sam Taylor-Johnson at the Venice Film Festival premiere of Nocturnal Animals today. Nocturnal Animals is Tom Ford’s second movie as a director and besides ATJ, it also stars Amy Adams, Jake Gyllenhaal, Isla Fisher, Michael Shannon, Laura Linney, Michael Sheen and Armie Hammer. I skimmed through a few reviews from Venice and most of them were good and a few of them said that this is the MOVIE OF THE YEAR. Others said that Amy Adams’ performance may have earned her a place next to Leonardo DiCatchAHo and Julianne Moore in the It Took Fucking Long Enough But I Finally Got My Oscar club.
While reading the reviews, I noticed that Nocturnal Animals got an R-rating for “graphic nudity,” among other things. The “graphic nudity” may go down in this scene (via The Hollywood Reporter):
An eye-opening sequence that plays under the opening titles features a hefty middle-aged burlesque dancer in drum-majorette accessories but otherwise naked, dancing in front of a red curtain.
If that’s the only scene in the movie that has “graphic nudity” in it, then Tom Ford needs to retire from directing movies forever! I mean, if your movie has “graphic nudity,” as well as Jake Gyllenhaal and Aaron Taylor-Johnson in it, and none of the “graphic nudity” is done by either them, then you cannot be considered a serious auteur. I’m sure that’s one of the laws of cinema.
Pics: Getty, Wenn.com
Aaron Taylor-Johnson Doesn’t Think He’s Too Young For Sam Taylor-Johnson Because He’s Always Felt Old
On the left, you have 48-year-old Fifty Shades director and secretary-treasurer of the Goopy Paltrow Appreciation Society Sam Taylor-Johnson. On the right, you have her 24-year-old piece of six years, actor and pants-dampening hottie Aaron Taylor-Johnson. Except in Aaron Taylor-Johnson’s mind, those two ages should come with a needs verification warning. Aaron recently told The Times (via Daily Mail) that he has always been an “old soul” type and that Sam has always been a I-can-still-pass-for-19-right? type, so their 24-year age difference isn’t that big a deal. Oh, also that he might have reverse-aging disease:
“I don’t notice it now – we just instinctively gel. People who know me call me Benjamin Button – they think I’m an old soul and she’s a young soul.”
Wait, so if Aaron Taylor-Johnson is a Benjamin Buttons type, doesn’t that mean he’s only going to get younger? (“I SURE HOPE SO!” hornily hollered Sam Taylor-Johnson). I think Aaron’s friends might be using Benjamin Buttons wrong. Are they confusing it with Jack syndrome, aka where your birth certificate says ’89 but you look ’59? Wait, that doesn’t work either. Is there a term for a dude who looks young, is young, but does old man things? Alex P. Keatonitis or Carlton Banksulism?
But even if he doesn’t think those 24 years are a problem, there will always be one fundamental age difference between Aaron and Sam: Aaron used to eat his Snack Pack pudding out of a plastic cup, whereas Sam Taylor-Johnson used to eat hers out of a can. Actually, I bet that’s how Madonna weeds out potential new boyfriends. “Do you remember eating pudding out of a can Y/N?”
Here’s Benjamin Buttons looking like a Mountie who traded his horse for a Harley as he arrives at LAX yesterday with his wife, who sort of looks like Dobby the House Elf in RHOBH drag:
Sam Taylor-Johnson Won’t Be Returning For “Fifty Shades: Even More Missed Opportunities To Show Penis”
Sam Taylor-Johnson obviously decided that, despite the huge box office take, dignity is dignity. The Fifty Shades of Grey director has opted out of directing the next two installments of the the BDSM for Boring People franchise.
Here’s the statement with which her extremely skilled PR minion came up. Because you know Mrs. Taylor-Johnson’s own attempt read: “HAHAHAHAHA…you thought I was going to suffer that E.L. James heifer again….HAHAHAHAHAHAH, um, no.”
“Directing Fifty Shades Of Grey has been an intense and incredible journey for which I am hugely grateful. I have Universal to thank for that. I forged close and lasting relationships with the cast, producers and crew and most especially, with Dakota and Jamie. While I will not be returning to direct the sequels, I wish nothing but success to whosoever takes on the exciting challenges of films two and three.”
By “intense” and “incredible journey” she meant “having to deal with that no-talent writer and two boring yet somehow still very difficult actors who despised each other.” “I have Universal to thank for that” means” those studio dicks who wouldn’t let me out of my contract after I first met the asshole who wrote this shit and still didn’t give me points on the box office, greedy fucks.” “Most especially, with Dakota and Jamie” means “one wouldn’t show his cock when I asked him to even though he wasn’t exactly hired for his thespian skills, and the other hated him and kept bringing Melanie Griffith’s stretched face to the set to coach her daughter’s acting. It showed.” And finally, “exciting challenges” basically means “this absolute shitshow chock-full of self-involved fucks with delusions of talent. In closing, E.L. James can eat my box. Laters!”
No word yet on who will be succeed Sam Taylor-Johnson. It’s not like they were going to be able to afford to give her a salary. I’m sure Scorcese, Fincher, and Spielberg are in a frenzy as they ring up their agents.
Honestly, I’d quit that bitch, too. E.L. reportedly has the air of a terrible hack who won the lottery but fancies herself Toni Morrison. Who can blame Sam for running screaming back to Kick-Ass and his fine ass (fine as long as he doesn’t attempt an Eastern-European accent.)
I don’t know what the hell is on the floor in that picture, but it’s giving me a major craving for string cheese (“What else is new?” just hissed my stomach).
Gwyneth Paltrow Instagrammed this picture of Jennifer Lopez, Patrick Schwarzenegger, Miley Cyrus, Scarlett Johansson, and Amy Adams sitting in the front row of Tom Ford’s FW15 womenswear show in Los Angeles last night, and it was literally only 1/856th of the famous types that were there. Everybody was there. And when I say everybody, I mean everybody. Beyonce? YES. Angelica Huston? YES. Gina Gershon? HELL YES. My great aunt Gladys? PROBABLY. I haven’t asked her yet, but I’m assuming she was there, since everybody was there. It was like the Oscars and the Grammys and the Emmys and the CableACE Awards got together in the backseat of a 1994 Ford Tempo and made a random fluids baby.
I don’t know what Tom Ford did to get that many famous types at his fashion show, but it must have involved promising to wash their cars for a year or “take care” of their enemies and make it look like an accident or something, because people that I haven’t seen in forever showed up. Faith Hill was there. When is the last time you saw Faith Hill at something? Robbie Williams. ROBBIE WILLIAMS! I’m sure if the dog from Fraiser hadn’t died 9 years ago, he would have been there too.
And I know Kanye West thinks he’s a legitimate fashion designer now, but he needs to realize that you haven’t made it until Cristal Connors from Showgirls shows up to your show. Until then, you’re still a nobody (sorry Kanye). Here’s a bunch of famous people from Tom Ford’s show last night, including the living life legend herself Gina Gershon, Goopy, Reese Witherspoon, Sofia Vergara and Joe Manganiello, and John Legend wearing a Canadian Tuxedo for some reason:
I stamped the “Fuck That Shit” label on the Fifty Shades of Grey movie last November when Jamie Dornan said they couldn’t go too far and so he had to keep his todger and nuts wrapped up in a crotch bag. How the hell are you going to do a movie that’s mostly about boning and geared toward horny middle-aged moms and hard-up gays (see: me) and not show any dick? That’s some Spice Channel shit. When I was a teenager, my friend said that her parent’s never checked their cable bill so we ordered a Spice Channel porn. While watching that porn, we pretty much screamed for her parent’s money back, because they didn’t show any dick! None. That was a tragic day in my teenhood.
But Jamie wasn’t totally telling the truth. Fifty Shrugs of Meh opened at midnight (it’s already made $8.6 million from midnight screenings alone) and clips of Christian Grey’s bits have already squirted up on the Internet. MNPP posted two GIFs, one of which is a hint of Christian Grey’s peen and wild crotch bush. Yes, I already know there’s a picture of Jamie’s peen all over the Internet, but that pic is old and when you’re a desperate, pathetic, dick-hungry wreck like me, you take what you can get. So after the cut are NSFWish GIFs of Christian Grey’s sausage trunk and ass. Yes, this is what it’s come to:
All week long the Today show has been whoring out Fifty Shades of Grey hard, because they’re both owned by the same company and the producers of that cinematic shit show just knew that hearing human tap water drop Savannah Guthrie talk about the hot sex scenes would make you want to lube up your entire body and buy a ticket. I didn’t think anything could make Fifty Shades of Grey unsexier, but hearing Matt Lauer talk about it proved me wrong. Today’s non-stop whoring of Fifty Shades hit a fever pitch this morning when they hosted an early morning screening for the book’s biggest fans. RIP to the venue where that screening was held. Even if Fifty Shades sucked, you know those middle-aged moms still squirted out so much tapioca panty pudding that not even Hazmat could clean up the mess.
Before and after the screening, Savannah, Carson Daly and Natalie Morales did an interview with EL James, the movie’s director Sam Taylor-Johnson, Jamie Dornan and Dakota Johnson. It was Fifty Shades of Aaaaaaawkward. Jamie, Dakota and Sam tried to act like they were happy and excited but they looked like they were in the lobby of a clinic waiting for their HIV test results. Their mouths said, “I am excited,” but their faces said, “Get me the fuck out of here.” They all had Princess Charlene face. I know, after reading Gawker’s long post about how they all supposedly hate each other and Sam Taylor-Johnson’s words about EL James, I should have expected them to look about as happy and excited as a cow at a car wash.
But they don’t even try. In the pictures from this morning’s screening, Jamie looks like a dude who took his sister to the prom because his parents promised to put the down payment on the car he’s been eyeing if he did.
And in other news, the hell kind of melting snowman dominatrix secretary shit is Dakota Johnson wearing?