Author Archives: Heather

Fugs and Fines of Coachella: Second Weekend


The second verse is not QUITE the same as the first, sadly. Or fortunately?

[Photos: Getty, Fame/Flynet, Pacific Coast News]

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Fug the Show: Lindsay on OWN, season finale (episodes seven and eight)


Clearly, after the events of the last six episodes, filming with Lindsay essentially ground to a halt. These two hours are patched together from filler, stretched-out shooting days that are spread out as far as possible, and interview bites that I think are cobbled together from stuff they’ve already shown, just to fill the dead air with some sound. I don’t know if Lindsay stopped cooperating, or had almost nothing going on in her life, or what, but this is where the show becomes the crew only shooting with her on infrequent days and even then often not from within her house. But there is a bombshell at the end that we’ll all need to discuss, so let’s press forth…

The first piece is Lindsay shooting Billy on the Street with comedian Billy Eichner, for Funny or Die. The premise: They’re so angry that How I Met Your Mother is ending that they’re going to trash a branded HIMYM car with sledgehammers. And at first it promises to be more of the same — her call time is 1 p.m., they’re worried about losing the light, etc. — but just as they set 3:05 p.m. as the drop-dead for proceeding without her, she decides to leave her apartment. Her excuse is that she’s sick with a chest cold, and she does sound hoarse, but still. It’s more of the same. It’s like she thinks pushing her limits is an art, and she’s trying to master it. But we do at least get to see her wearing a welder’s mask, staring contemplatively at the sky. I hope that’s her book cover. Wishing Weld, by Lindsay Lohan.

The one line she contributes — that we see — is “Reruns can’t sustain me,” which Billy Eichner allegedly thinks is genius, but which she delivers with all the comedic oomph of someone sending back her dinner because the steak was overcooked.

And then when they ask her to stick around and give them two wild lines — re-recordings of stuff she already said, in case the mics didn’t pick it up, or stray lines they can cut in if needed — she gives them this face. Over TWO LINES. The dude in the middle is the show’s exec producer, and he can barely contain his astonishment that she’s claiming her voice is too shot for two wild lines. She would rather leave and go somewhere else another day to record them, and you can see this guy inwardly groaning and realizing that having to schedule her again is going to be slow-cooked insanity. Eventually, his guys tell him they have what they need and she can just leave, so it becomes a moot point. Kind of like most of the rest of the finale, actually.

Next up, the kind of shot that must give Amy Rice acid flashbacks:

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Fug the Show: Scandal season 3 finale


I have to say, I think Scandal would be well-served to limit itself to fewer episodes EVERY season. Because, as rushed as it was to find ourselves on the doorstep of the presidential election — without even a word as to who Sally Langston’s running mate even is — I am glad we didn’t have four more episodes on top of these. It felt like a lot of water-treading as it was, the number of times Olivia would let out a shaky breath and realize that she does horrible things in service of horrible people who pretend they’re America’s heroes.

So, last week, we left off with Harrison being romanced by Adnan Salif’s pistol, Rowan Pope brutally stabbed and bleeding out all over Olivia’s office floor, Squick setting records for being the Foulest On-Screen Pairing in the Universe on account of how they make out like they’re horny cannibals, and Cyrus being willing to vaporize a bunch of innocent people — and Jon Tenney — just to make election night easier for him. We pick up with Fitz rehearsing his eulogy and Cyrus becoming increasingly agitated, because he has realized that maybe, just maybe, the karma police like to throw you in solitary with moldy bologna if you effectively mass-murder a Church full of people just so you can keep your fancy office.

Meanwhile, Mama Pope, one of the most wanted women in the WORLD, is standing outside the Church she plans to bomb — a Church crawling with Secret Service and other security personnel because the people inside are all government types — WITHOUT WEARING A DISGUISE or even sunglasses and a kicky but inappropriate hat. No, she’s just merrily chatting on the phone about how Fitz will show up, for sure, no problem, and they can blow that joint into holy smoke, while NOBODY NOTICES THAT THE TERRORIST WHO THEY KNOW WANTS TO KILL THE PRESIDENT IS STANDING THERE IN PLAIN SIGHT CLAD IN GLOWING GREY AMID A SEA OF MOURNING BLACK. COME ON.

This blurry shot of Jon Tenney is one of VERY few we get of him in this episode, which is a shame, because the show went to all that trouble to set up emotional stakes for him and Mellie and then just wiped that off like they’re a dry-erase board. I can’t remember at what point they decided to cut the order to 18 episodes from 22, but perhaps not with enough time for them to cut down their planned arc for him in a way that made sense, and as a consequence, he got left with nothing. ANYWAY: Jake Ballard interrupts just as Cyrus is about to confess to Fitz about the bomb, and more or less doesn’t point the finger at Cyrus, which was nice of him — or at least, any implications he makes seem not to concern Fitz in the slightest. Instead, they clear out the funeral.

And then, while they’re in the bunker, and Jake Ballard is swearing up and down that there REALLY IS a bomb and they will not end up looking foolish…

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Fugs and Fabs: Karolina Kurkova


Let’s see what a tall foxy supermodel has been doing to herself lately, because sometimes those are the people whose fashion blindness hurts most of all.

[Photos: Fame/Flynet, Getty]

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Unfug It Up: Leighton Meester in Emporio Armani


Welcome back, Blair Waldorf. Stay awhile this time, will you? With both you AND S off the canvas (whither Boobs Legsly I ASK THEE)(just kidding, she’s finally shooting a movie)(but damn, that took a long time) there has been a void of crazy fuggery others have been filling with way too much stretchy nakedness.

At least this isn’t see-through. It is a cheap shift that ate some curtains and is currently regurgitating them, but it is a CHANGE, and I am so HAPPY to have something else about which to gnash my teeth. (She’s even wearing a BRACELET, although the shoes are a totally boring color choice here and so that’s probably a styling wash.) I mean, I actually like that bottom fabric, potentially, but why does it look like it’s been sewn into the other thing with dental floss? How would you ladies fix this? Would you even bother? PLEASE, talk it up, and rejoice and be glad that one of the options doesn’t have to be, “Line it.”

[Photo: Fame/Flynet]

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Casual Saucyday: Lupita Nyong’o


It’s not so much “Everybody Looks Better In Sunglasses,” so much as, “Lupita Nyong’o Looks Just As Great In Sunglasses As Without.”

This might be the first time I’ve SEEN her dressed-down, and OF COURSE she’s pulling it off with mystery and panache. CAN SHE NOT SPARE SOME OF THE PANACHE?

[Photo: Fame/Flynet]

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