The steady rollout of Dakota Fanning 2.0 continues apace as the young actress hit up Oprah today to promote her new drama, The Secret Life of Bees. As a pre-teen, Fanning sometimes came off as robotically overprepared on the talk show circuit, but she felt much more relatable on Oprah — perhaps a pleasant side effect from the fact that she's now eschewed home schooling to attend an actual high school. Typically, the studious Fanning isn't about to half-ass that, either; she's joined the cheerleading team, and Oprah's got the picture to prove it. Abigail Breslin, eat your heart out! Also, after the jump, Fanning discusses shooting the film's kissing scene — with Dixon from 90210, of all people. Silver's gonna be pissed!

Click to viewBoomp3.com At the Washington DC premiere of The Secret Life Of Bees, a young male fan took a major step forward in his relationship with actress Dakota Fanning. After taking the photo, Billy Walsh asked Fanning if she would be okay with him changing his relationship status on his Facebook profile. Fanning said she wouldn’t mind, but didn’t understand why Walsh would seek her approval. Walsh took a deep breath and explained that Fanning and him have been internet dating for quite some time now and would like to their relationship to the next level. Walsh said, “I’m just started the seventh grade. It’s high time that I settle down with a good girl. A girl like you, Dakota. I can’t be spend all of my junior high years running wild with my bro dawgs looking for a cheap thrills at Stevie Gordon’s pool party. I need to settle down with somebody like you. So, would you mind if it says on Facebook, that ... we’re ... you know ... together?” Fanning was unsure of how to answer Walsh’s question and wanted to think about it overnight. A feeling of dejection swept over Walsh’s young face. He was about to say something when Fanning interrupted him and said, “It’s not a no, but why ruin a good thing by putting a label on it?” [Photo Credit: Splash Pics] *A Call To The Bullpen is a work of fiction. Although the pictures we use are most certainly real, Defamer does not purport that any of the incidents or quotations you see in this piece actually happened. Lighten up, people ... it's a joke.

Welcome back to Defamer Attractions, your official tastemaking Bible for everything new and noteworthy at the movies. The second week of the fall season offers another mixed harvest of Oscar bait, multiplex placeholders and indie hopefuls, none more eagerly anticipated than the historically skeevy Dakota Fanning 2.0 drama Hounddog. But we'll get to that momentarily, along with this week's worthwhile DVD releases and an all-call for your own recommendations. As always, our opinions are our own — in times like these, who really wants to share? WHAT'S NEW: The first genuine Oscar-chasing release of the fall, The Duchess will likely split its viewership between pro- and anti-Keira Knightley factions before anyone bothers to acknowledge its broader, bodice-ripping appeal. So yes, Team Knightley: She deftly portrays Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, the late-18th-century heroine with the bitterly controlling husband (Ralph Fiennes), the rabble-rousing side dish (Dominic Cooper) and a surfeit of corsted, pre-feminist longing. The star and the film are beautiful, the direction assured and the awards-season creds affirmed — particularly Fiennes', whose customary wretchedness as the Duke acquires a kind of fascinating tenderness with age. If anyone should be on the Oscar bubble (besides the art and costume crew, which are locks), it's him.Still, in limited release, Duchess isn't competing for any box-office glory; that distinction belongs to Lakeview Terrace, the not-entirely-miserable Neil LaBute thriller featuring Samuel L. Jackson as a sociopathic cop out to get the hot interracial couple next door (Patrick Wilson and Kerry Washington). Against sturdy holdovers (Burn After Reading, The Family That Preys) and middling newbies (the Dane Cook slog My Best Friend's Girl, Ricky Gervais's leading-man debut Ghost Town), Lakeview will top out at $15.6 million. Cook will follow with $13.2 million; with half the screens and even less promotion, Ghost Town should still manage an even $6 million. Also opening: Ed Harris's old-old-school Western Appaloosa; Chris Smith's tiny, acclaimed Indian excursion The Pool; the gay-conversion melodrama Save Me; the wrenching immigrant day-in-the-life tale Take Out; and the Duchess-correcting, misogynist fantasia The Pink Conspiracy. THE BIG LOSER: You know, after we just predicted the Weinsteins would once again find their step in the multiplex, trust in Harvey to not only dump another subpar animated fairy tale on an unsuspecting public, but to essentially disown it. Such is Igor's lot, with its backers AWOL, its reviews tepid, and its voice talent (John Cusack, Molly Shannon, Steve Buscemi) trapped in a Straight-to-Flopz™ patchwork about a hunchback pursuing his dream of becoming a mad scientist. MGM is left to collect the grosses for this one, which won't break $5 million on 2,300 screens. Or, as they call it at Weinstein HQ, business as usual.

After a self-imposed exile that had many wondering if—shunted aside by the younger and even more precocious Abigail Breslin—she'd perhaps moved to Japan to begin the second phase of her career as a celebrity spokesperson for a popular chain of capsule hotels, Dakota Fanning has reemerged into the public eye. And what a spectacular transformation! Almost no traces of her larval stage as the child prodigy actress who screamed her way to greatness in War of the Worlds still exists. Now 14, the actress stars in The Secret Life of Bees—a sort of Waiting to Exhale meets the opening scenes of The Jerk, with Fanning playing a neglected girl taken in by three African-American sisters, played by Queen Latifah, Sophie Okonedo and Alicia Keys.(Fanning's character is white, though as we've insisted countless times before, the versatile actress she could have easily slipped into the sister parts.) We couldn't be more thrilled to present a small image gallery of the budding young lady, who's now primed to take on more mature roles. (No rape movies, however. She wants to keep stretching as an actress.)

What fun it must be to have a baby, get married, or turn one year older if you’re lucky enough to be chummy with Village People Fan Club president Tom Cruise. As a card-carrying member of Tom’s inner circle of disco-dancing Xenu-fearing tribe of pals, new mom Nicole Kidman had the joy of receiving one of Cruise’s trademark lavish gifts — as People reports, the birth of little Sunday Urban prompted Nicole’s ex-partner in bearded crime to send over a huge “high-end” gift basket filled to the brim with fancy baby must-haves. But after reviewing Tom’s history of gifting his nearest and dearest with incredibly bizarre and, at times, inappropriate items, we suspect his inclusion of “Giraffe baby blankets” might actually be a subtle swipe at Kidman’s tendency to resemble the long-necked drowsy animal. Cruise’s unnerving presents of the past to fellow Tom-ophiles like Dakota Fanning and Katie Holmes, after the jump.

Celebrity gossip. Some of us love it, some of us hate it. Most of us, though, sort of love to pretend to hate it but secretly love it. Though, admit it, lately it's been a bit staid. Everything now just seems a bit tired (or, you know, British). So is celebrity gossip really dead? For our sake, we hope not. And, really, we don't think it is. We're just in a time of change, the old guard is leaving and a new, squeaky foaming-at-the-mouth group of celebutantes is entering. People are so very tired of Britney, she does nothing but ride tiny cars these days, and Lindsay Lohan seems actually (shriek!) sorta cleaned-up and is working. So let's get on with the new ones. But who will they be? Well, as is (sigh) clearly evident, young starlets will get the brunt of gossip's harsh glare, but there will be some men, too. Find our picks for 16 of America's next top freak idols after the jump.

The quarterly news cycle addressing Hounddog — a/k/a Untitled Dakota Fanning Rape Project — appears to have fired back up again today, when we read that the Southern-Fried Scourge of Sundance '07 will not receive its planned July 15 release after all. Instead, distributor Empire Film Group will unleash the film on Sept. 5 — the dumping ground better known as Labor Day weekend. While we can't wait for Empire's "early-Oscar-season" spin, we're actually far more intrigued by the pledge for Hounddog's eventual home-video eternity:

Some people think that agents, executives and Anthony Pellicano are the most evil people in Hollywood. But watch Vh1's I Know My Kid's a Star for ten minutes and you'll see who the real villains are: Stage parents.

Having done our homework about dedicated Hollywood recluses over the last few days, we can assert with 100 percent certainty that despite her disappearance after the Park City clusterfuck that was Hounddog, Dakota Fanning is no John Hughes or Terrence Malick. Nevertheless, while this somewhat frightening video passed along by MTV (with its insistent English narrator positing: "Was she scared off by the negative press for Hounddog, or did she simply run and hide because she hit that awkward pubescent stage? Because it seems like all the little girl roles lately have been filled by others!") helps allay our worst DakotAWOL fears, what replaces them is perhaps eerier than any exile we could have imagined.

Perhaps only proving the adage that the harder you try, the dumber you look, the recently released trailer to rape-prevention spokesteen Dakota Fanning's soon-to-be-released Hounddog gathers three minutes of short-eyed, Southern-fried auteurist poetry in one skeevy bundle for your viewing pleasure.

In a shocking—shocking!™—development destabilizing the world of preternaturally talented child actresses whom Hollywood will suck dry before their 18th birthdays and banish to SAG's Not-So-Cute Anymore Halfway House in Reseda, both Dakota and Elle Fanning have abruptly exited the film My Sister's Keeper, the project that would have represented the sisters' first cinematic collaboration since sharing a character in I Am Sam.

Great news for all FanningWatchers disappointed in preternaturally talented teen megastar Dakota's meager cinematic output of the past year: the Sundance debut of little sister Elle's Phoebe in Wonderland could spark a return to Hollywood prominence for the clan. And: the movie's completely rape-free, demonstrating that the family's handlers learned their lesson about pushing their earners towards too-mature material from the fallout accompanying the Sundance screenings of Dakota's noble-intentioned, but poorly received, molestation-preparedness film, Hounddog. [LAT Live From Park City]

· Jamie Foxx effectively pre-nominates himself for a future Oscar by signing on to star in the DreamWorks drama The Soloist, based on a true story of Nathan Ayers, a homeless, schizophrenic Julliard dropout who plays his violin and cello on the streets of downtown LA, and who developed a special friendship with LAT columnist Steve Lopez. Our hearts are already warmed on the logline alone. [Variety]
· We're overjoyed by the news that HBO has picked up Flight of the Conchords (for our money, the funniest show on TV) for a second season, but thoroughly ambivalent that Entourage is getting a fifth. [THR]
· Former ICMer Ed Limato and his A-list roster of clients (Denzel Washington, Mel Gibson, Richard Gere, Steve Martin, Michael Biehn. Wait, Michael Biehn?) end up at William Morris. But most importantly, Limato and new boss Jim Wiatt are still deciding whether or not they'll continue the agent's geriatric pre-Oscar blowout. [Variety]
· Scarlett Johansson is trying to book every available job in town before the strike hits. [THR]
· Dakota Fanning will team up with Djimon Hounsou and that guy from the Fantasic Four (the firey one, not the rubbery one, we think) on the thriller Push, about "a group of young American ex-pats with telekinetic and clairvoyant abilities who hide from a U.S. government agency in Hong Kong and band together to try to escape the control of the division." Whew, no mention of rape. We're relieved Fanning's doing something lighter and not revisiting that regrettable phase of her career. [Variety]

It may already be too late to save Little Miss Sunshine's Abigail Breslin from a regrettable Fanningization by the Hollywood machine: "'The greatest thing about Abigail is that she takes direction,' the hunky actor [Aaron Eckhart], who plays a lovable chef, told us. 'She's so smart. She understands the whole script thematically. Most child actors can't do that. They just recite lines their parents recite with them in the hotel room.'" [Rush & Molloy, 2nd item]

Positing that the public might be growing tired of the Lohan/Hilton/Spears class of troubled starlet and that the industry is ready to pump out a more wholesome, less frequently rehabbed product to capture the tween entertainment dollar, the LAT looks at the "new wave" of Hollywood good girls, including Nancy Drew's Emma "Aunt Julia Would Produce My Movies Even If We Weren't Related" Roberts, Nim's Island's Abigail Breslin, and the Charlize Theron-approved AnnaSophia Robb. The article's true focus is the impeccably pedigreed, terrifyingly ambitious Roberts, who's so precocious she's already bored with the whole imminent movie stardom thing:

With Lindsay Lohan safely chained to a solid-gold radiator at Promises Malibu and the orderlies assigned to her care instructed never to spike her delicious wheatgrass-and-ipecac detox smoothies with Bacardi, no matter how extravagant the bribe offered, all Lohan coverage for the next 28 or so days will probably be limited to recaps of the events leading up to this weekend's spectacular flameout or forward-looking attempts to discern What It All Means for Other Substance-Abusing Starlets Who'd Kill For This Kind of Media Attention, Even If They Have To Drunkenly Mow Down A Valet at Hyde To Get It.

Each time Dakota Fanning's handlers promised that their preternaturally talented, thirteen-year-old money-maker was more than mature enough to handle the psychological demands of that rape movie, we really wanted to believe them. But in our heart of hearts, we knew that she was just a Kid's Choice award away from snapping under the immense pressure and emptying an automatic weapon at an after-party in a tragic cry for help.

· CAA takes the first steps in building ice-cold new client's Jim Carrey confidence back up, working to book him in the easy comedy gig Me Time, in which he'd play a put-upon, Mr. Mom-style househusband. [Variety]
· Newly minted Oscar winner Jennifer Hudson is in talks for her next acting gig, the ensemble Winged Creatures, which already has a cast including Forest Whitaker, Guy Pearce, Jackie Earle Haley, and Dakota Fanning, with whom Hudson is expected to have daily diva confrontations that even her Dreamgirls experience with Beyonce won't have prepared her for. [THR]
· Helen Mirren takes some time off from demanding, Oscar-worthy performances to go slumming in National Treasure: The Book of Secrets as the MILF who gave birth to Nicolas Cage. [Variety]
· The world needs more movies inspired by guys named Tebucky. [THR]
· Variety salutes Scary Hollywood Lawyers! All your favorites are here: Bert Fields! Marty Singer! That Skip Guy! [Variety]

One of the last things we saw before we collapsed head-first into our laptop mere moments after the final credits rolled on the Oscar telecast was this press release from Access Hollywood, concerning the virtue-protecting jinx eventual Best Supporting Actor usurper Alan Arkin put on precocious co-star Abigail Breslin:

· Mark off May 22, 2008 on your calendars, for that's the day that Indiana Jones 4: Short Round, I'm Really Getting Too Old For This Shit hits theaters. Warner Bros. blockbuster hopeful Speed Racer is also scheduled to open over that long Memorial Day weekend, but we bet the movie will be mysteriously stricken by "post-production problems" that force a move to a safer release date. [Variety]
· The publicists responsible for making sure that every Borat appearance was accompanied by a trashy throng of Kazakh prostisisters and death threats from the president of the constantly mocked Central Asian nation saw their hard work rewarded at yesterday's Flackies, the awards celebrating achievements in the promotional arts. [THR]
· Dakota Fanning makes a bold move to combat being typecast as a preteen rape victim, joining her sister Elle in portraying disabled twins in the drama Hurricane Mary. Look for the ambitious elder Fanning to muscle out her sister to better showcase her acting chops by playing both parts herself. [Variety]
· American Idol plunges from 33.1 million viewers on Tuesday to just 27.6 million on Wednesday, a slide that's temporarily reduced its level of domination of primetime competition from "utter destruction" to "a pretty rough ass-kicking." [THR]
· Borat boosts News Corp.'s studio division, but MyNetworkTV, barely beating public access bulletins about winter-weather school closures in most markets, has clearly shit the financial bed. [Variety]