We thought every marriage had a graphically worded pact to spell out its sexual and emotional tenets, but apparently our families are in the minority with Madonna and Guy Ritchie. The authorities at The Sun today make quite a bit of the busted-up duo's "marriage contract," a list reportedly pinned around their residences lest Guy ever forget his responsibilities in the relationship — and putting down the toilet seat was the least of them.Beyond joining Madonna for regular Kabbalah studies, working "to enrich his wife's emotional [...] well-being," and agreeing to resolve conflicts with the easy-to-remember surrender edict, "I understand that my actions have upset you, please work with me to resolve this," Ritchie is said to have faced even more formidable terms in the bedroom:
Another day, another approximately 12,000 steaming new dishes laid out in the ongoing Madonna/Guy Ritchie divörgåsbord, a sumptuous schadenfreude buffet. We highlight a few, for your gustatory enjoyment:· Madonna's inner-circle (a 450-person-strong army consisting of stylists, trainers, hair & makeup people, plastic surgeons, background singers and Voguers, and one horseback riding instructor) claim Ritchie's nickname is "Material Guy," for his notorious gold-digging tendencies. [The Sun] · A-Rod is shopping around for real estate near Madonna's apartment on the Upper West Side, and is closing in on an $80 million, 5,200-square-foot penthouse in the new Robert A.M. Stern condo going up there. [NY Daily News] · In the NYC-London battle royale for Madonna's presence, look for New York to win. She accepted a life in London for Ritchie's sake. That means a Brooklyn accent should return within the year! Yay! [People] · Unless of course you believe the story that says her heart is in London, and she could never leave. [Daily Mail] · Ritchie reportedly infuriating Madonna when she learned he humiliated daughter Lourdes by pointing out her budding breasts and saying she's "becoming a woman" over lunch. [The Sun] · Ritchie claims he's being spied upon by Madonna's camp, saying, "this is a divorce, not the Cold War." [The Sun] · Madonna and kids arrived at the Chelsea Piers sports facility in New York with a massive security duty—and in a particularly nice touch, Rocco was wearing a Yankees T-shirt. Both he and sister Lourdes were photographed laughing and playing. [Daily Mail] · African demi-orphan David Banda's biological father is apparently listening in to the developments on his battery-operated Aiwa radio in disgust, telling The Sun: "I am still a poor farmer with nothing to offer, but maybe he'd be better off back with us. This woman, Madonna, told me herself that David was beautiful and made her happy and she promised to take care of him. Now I see him in a big bewildering crowd in the street with people pushing and shoving, and many cameras around, and without a mother and father to hold his hand. I'm feeling bad for him." [Newsday]
Ah, what a difference a divorce makes. To see Guy Ritchie's jubilant face on the occasion of his 40th birthday on September 10—just weeks after Madonna had embarked on her Men Are All Sickening, Selfish Pigs Tour—is to look into the toothy grin of freedom itself. Sure, he got perhaps one more African orphan out of the bargain than he had hoped for, but there was really no point in looking backwards now, was there? He was 40 (still relatively young), his career was right back on track, and he would never again be faced with daily surveys of the, "So which do you think—the embroidered python jodhpurs or the deconstructed parachute pants?"-variety.Compare that, then, with this interview, taken a few weeks earlier at TIFF, in which Extra cornered the director to ask him about his Untitled Kabbalah Project I Have No Intention of Completing Once I Get What's-Her-Face Out of My Life. When asked if Madonna was contributing to the project, Ritchie's lolly-headed animus barely conceals contempt for his insufferable wife and her Purim-centric belief system. [Photo credit: Splash News via Crazy Days and Nights]
We Didn't Want To Believe. Despite having completed his sex-addict's rehab-training certification classes and putting on a brave, united front at aCzechoslovakian street fair, David Duchovny and longtime spouse Tea Leoni have announced their separation: "In light of continuous speculation over the lives and marriage of Tea Leoni and David Duchovny, the couple has confirmed that they have in fact been separated for several months. The couple had hoped to keep this separation private for the sake of their children." [People]
A highly placed Defamer operative tells us TMZ has gotten the details of the Brian and Gigi Grazer divorce (he gets the freedom to personally pinch-test whomever he pleases, they say, she gets $1,000,042 a month)—wrong. For starters, they don't even own a home in New York. Read the details after the jump:
It's been a year and four months since we learned of the dissolution of the marriage of Hollywood superproducer (and lesser-known rising sign) Brian Grazer to his screenwriter/author ex-wife, Gigi Levangie. And while the split was by all reports amicable—never once resulting in Grazer turning to his Cultural Attaché 2.0 in a moment of weakness, and uttering the words, "How about bringing me a Nobel laureate who can figure out a way for me to stop hemorrhaging alimony. Huh? Got one of those in your little idea bag, bigshot?"—the divorce proceedings have splayed open the couple's finances for all the nosy world (that would be you) to see. Details after the jump.
So, yes, buttery-voiced leadflipper Morgan Freeman is recovering from injuries sustained in a terrible car accident, in which he and a female passenger who wasn't his wife— 48-year-old Demaris Meyer—were lucky to emerge alive. There were whispers, of course, about the nature of their relationship—rumors not likely to die down now that it's been confirmed that the Dark Knight star is in the process of divorcing his wife of 24 years, costume designer Myrna Colley-Lee. From AccessHollywood.com:
Trophy Case: Four-time Suspenders Aficionado magazine coverboy Larry King is on the offensive after rumors surfaced that he will leave his current wife, Shawn Southwick, after she finishes a stint in rehab. "His PR spokesman told AOL Television exclusively that those stories are not true; King tells us, 'I love her.'" [AOL Television]
We realize it's challenging to keep up with this whole A-Rod/ Madonna/ affair/ divorce/ something-about-Lenny Kravitz business, a convoluted celebrity love-polygon which we wouldn't be the least bit surprised to learn also involved Gary Coleman, Eliot Spitzer, and a Coors Light Twin. Still, you wouldn't want to be caught at some swanky dinner party filled with effete liberal elites and not have your talking points straight. Here's a round-up of the latest:
· A personal trainer present at the exact moment Kravitz learned he was embroiled in the primordial tabloid ooze said he "looked like he was going to throw up." The link between he, Madonna, and A-Rod is manager Guy Oseary, who told Kravitz he was going to "pimp out" the singer and Yankee. Whatever that means, Kravitz disapproved of it, and fired the manager a couple weeks later. He claims to have never had an affair with Cynthia Rodriguez; this was just a retaliatory smear campaign. [NY Post]
A grieving flack has emerged from Drew Barrymore and Justin Long's Shiva-House of Love, mascara smeared, lapel torn, and offering a somber, "I can confirm the split but have no other comment," before adding, "And if you'd like to come in to pay your respects and have a nice piece of kugel, you're more than welcome." Our deepest condolences to both families.
But what of little David Banda? For whatever reasons, that was our first reaction to rumors that the marriage of conical-bra-popularizer Madonna to lad-flick director Guy Ritchie was all but over. Well, when we actually stop to think about it, we can figure out the reasons: Lourdes and Rocco are half Ciccone—meaning their DNA is hardwired to withstand just about anything life could throw at them. What's more, were there a divorce, the two elder siblings could access their respective biological dads at virtually any moment with little more than an international mobile calling plan. But not little David: His known world would be splintered apart, one parent flouncing off to the country of hot dogs and baseball, the other staying put in bangers-and-cricket land. His real dad, meanwhile, was a world away, catching glimpses of the domestic unrest in his local Malawian celebrity tabloid, and second-guessing all the while his decision to sell his son to the global pop icon for a year's salary and a signed copy of "The Immaculate Collection." We prayed—oh, how we prayed!—that somehow these two would make it work. Clearly, God hates us:
There really is no pleasant way to spin a story in which one the great American comedy icons is accused in a court filing of chronic infidelity and physical abuse (save your comments—Charlie Sheen is far from an American comedy icon), so we'll leave it to The Smoking Gun to fill you in on the ugly details of the Bill and Jennifer Murray divorce:
Oh, what's to be done with Denise Richards and Charlie Sheen. They may bicker incessantly and claim they can't stand the sight of one another, but deep down, you just know they're hoping the other contracts feline AIDS. With her E! reality series set to premiere on Memorial Day, Richards has been hitting the talk show circuit harder than Richie Sambora in a bathroom stall at the LAX wrap party. This included some face-time with fossilized CNN grand inquisitor Larry King, where she explained that the show comes directly out of need; not, surprisingly, the need to be on TV, but rather the need to feed and shelter her two children, abandoned by their father to follow his tween-outfitting, trampoline dreams. Now, a "Sheen insider" tells Page Six that Richards' claims are absurd, as the actress is regularly greeted by the beeping sound of a Hollywood Alimony Services dump truck backing into her driveway to release that month's child support payment:
Let there be no mistaking it—the National Enquirer owns the story of the disintegration of Jodie Foster's 14-year lesbian relationship to her beautiful Cydney. Now, their unprecedented access to the high-ranking Donettes of the Rubyfruit Mafia gives us another shocking exclusive: Foster has parked her U-Haul outside the home of Cindy Mort, the creator of HBO's stunt-cock popularizing, prosthesis-core drama Tell Me You Love Me. From their report:
Bravely taking the Larry King Live lukewarmseat last night to promote her new E! reality series, Denise Richards: I'm Hateful, the actress fielded a barrage of intermittently relevant softballs from the broadcast legend ("Charlie Sheen: Father of your children?...Good guy?...What does he bench press, around?...Iron Man: your kind of movie?...Where do you fall on tofu?"), which she dutifully answered with refreshing candidness. Sadly, she and Sheen are not currently speaking, with Richards relying on her commando-nanny go-between to shuffle their children between the households, deftly avoiding concussion on her mad dash back to the Land Rover at the hands of a Sheen-manned pneumatic tennis-ball cannon. [Larry King Live]
As we touched upon briefly on our way out the door last night, actress Anne Heche, whose ugly divorce and custody battle last year aired out all manner of crazy-scented laundry, was back in court to argue that since the cancellation of her ABC series Men In Trees (hey Heche fans: where's the nut-delivery campaign for that one?), she no longer had the financial means to make the $15,000-a-month in emasculatory alimony payments to ex-husband, Coley Lafoon. People.com reports:
It's difficult enough to note the end of another seemingly rock-solid Hollywood relationship when the two parties are willing to at least admit that yes, they were involved. But how does one go about relaying the sad news that a love is no more, when the love was never outwardly acknowledged in the first place? What's that you say? By ceasing to be such a busybody and allowing them to lead their private lives in private? But we simply cannot do that! This is Jodie Foster we're talking about—and her beautiful Cydney!
After three-and-a-half years of wardrobe-sharing bliss, standing side-by-side through the good times (the Branded Wedding of the Century, brought to you by 1-800-Flowers, Smirnoff Ice, and the Portugal Tourism Board) and the bad (her Barbara Walters-issued View death warrant), ETOnline is now reporting that Star Jones has filed for divorce from husband Al Reynolds. From their Star! On! Her! Own! Exclusive!:
Between a needles-and-drugs-heavy induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and the upcoming release of a hotly buzzed new album touched by Timbahands, cooch-bearing prizefighter Madonna has had a run lately of the sort of positive, lightly controversial publicity that has defined her career from its jelly-bracelet-adorned nascency. But now comes another wave of unwelcome and unorchestrated chatter from the British tabloid press, saying the singer and her filmmaker husband of seven years Guy Ritchie have finally agreed to go their separate ways: