Monday night’s big Hollywood thing was Hollywood. At Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, movie stars came to see movie stars in a Quentin Tarantino movie, which stars movie stars and is all about movie stars.
Even “Miami Vice’s” Don Johnson hung up on me because, he said, “I have to go to see this ‘Once Upon a Time in . . . Hollywood’ movie.”
It stars Leonardo DiCaprio, Al Pacino, Brad Pitt, Margot Robbie, Dakota Fanning, Bruce Dern, Kurt Russell and almost anyone who has an agent.
Set in ’60s LA, it throws in murdered Sharon Tate, her then-husband Roman Polanski, martial arts guy Bruce Lee, Steve McQueen, Charles Manson.
The plot? An alcoholic actor makes a comeback and does spaghetti Westerns. Thrown in is feminism, philosophizing, Method acting, the Playboy Mansion, a few murders and a partridge in a pear tree.
When the action turned to the night of one murder, it showed Pitt at his finest. On a roof minus his shirt. His muscular-est. Every pec was at attention. King Kong didn’t go as ape as the starry Hollywood audience — some of whom had never seen Pitt minus his kit.
What I’m hearing
A legal eagle on how come Epstein walked the last time: “Savvy lawyer. Plus money. Payoffs. Forget innocence. Remember philanthropy. Money changes hands.”
Farewell to a fine fellow
Robert Morgenthau is gone. He’d been hospitalized. I remember thousands of our experiences together:
In the Manhattan apartment with his adored wife, author Lucinda Franks, he told me: “I love peanut butter. Bring peanut butter.” And: “Any holiday when I can just eat is my favorite holiday.”
Like when he delivered fresh peaches from their farm. Like us — me on the floor — with his beloved fluffy white dog Ivan, whom he was feeding — ready? — bacon and eggs.
He schlepped me personally upstate. His Fishkill Farms was having a maize maze. Besides 200 acres of fruit, it was miles of corn. At that time I reported they did a “Where’s Waldo?” hunt inside the endless winding cornfield — and I got lost. A rescuer led me — almost by my ear — through Morgy’s corn ears.
His tutorial on money laundering: “It’s the Caymans. Soon we’ll have to go to the Caribbean to cash our checks. The government won’t crack down. Can’t risk hassling American banks overseas. Certain credit card information is in the Caymans, which deals strictly in secrecy. One we investigated came back only imprinted with the name ‘valued customer.’
“Nobody likes paying taxes. Situated in the Caymans you’re not paying them.”
Our district attorney, then demonstrating petty theft, helped himself to the al dente spaghetti in meat sauce that was on my plate.
Drive like Liz
The 1960 mint-condition Rolls-Royce Elizabeth Taylor and husband Eddie Fisher plopped in, before she began Doing It with Richard Burton, could fetch a million-plus. The Aug. 6 auction’s conducted by Arlan Ettinger of Guernsey’s auction house. Mint green, her favorite color, it’s on view outside the Pierre — where the temporary couple lived — then again next week. In ’64, she dumped Fisher for Burton but those Liz & Eddie initials remained on that door until selling the apartment in ’78. I mean, who else would tell you these things? Where Burton’s initials finally ended up is unclear.
Guernsey’s auction also includes other Elizabeth Taylor Hilton Wilding Todd Fisher Burton Burton Warner Fortensky’s personal items like a Versace dress and Louboutin purse.
“Our school now teaches driver’s education and sex ed in the same car.”
Said only on Long Island, kids, only on Long Island.
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