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· Batman Begins pulls in a tidy $15 million from its Wednesday debut, filling Hollywood with (probably misguided) hope that this weekend will finally break the 16 week losing streak vs, last year's box office over the same period. [Variety]
· Billy Bob Thornton will star in the film adaptation of the novel Peace Like a River for Warner Bros. Brad Pitt will produce for his Plan B, allowing for some interesting discussions about the little noise Angelina Jolie makes when your bite her ankle. [THR]
· Finding the internet gaming space as utterly befuddling as the improvised pseudo-philosophy of the movie's two sequels, Warner Bros. sells the rights to operate its online Matrix videogame to Sony. [Variety · Over 15 million people tuned in to watch Evander Holyfield get ousted from Dancing with the Stars, providing further evidence for our theory that it's the only show being broadcast this summer. [THR]
· Geoffrey Rush takes a top-secret role in Steven Spielberg's 1972 Munich Olympics project, which will probably feel like a vacation compared to the ongoing War of the Worlds publicity nightmare. [Variety]

While we were responding to the Cruise-Holmes engagement by marinating in a self-annihilating soup of warm bathwater and our own blood, sister site Gawker was on the IM horn with flack-star Lizzie "PowR Girl" Grubman, who provided some publicist perspective on the couple's carefully-orchestrated move toward the altar:

Yesterday afternoon, we wrote:
"Given the way that every step of the couple’s partnership has been botched by Cruise’s publisister, Lee Anne Devette, we wouldn’t be at all surprised if the announcement comes while a fist-pumping Cruise climbs to the top of the conspicuously phallic Eiffel Tower to shout down proclamations of his deep feelings to the assembled press like the King Kong of unconvincing love."

· "'I like a great sense of humor, a good personality and someone with a little spunkiness,' Katie Holmes says of her dream guy. 'Tall, dark, and handsome.'" Weel, she definitely got spunky...
· Attention Kate Mantilini diners: Just in case you neglected to read the warning on the menu, you are being monitored.
· Who does Sony have to burn at the stake to convince people that the Bewitched statue in Salem is a celebration of the witch lifestyle, and not just a cheap promotion for the upcoming movie (or the TV Land sitcom revival)?
·Greenlight this movie (and every movie like it) immediately: "'The scripts I get are always for the whore, or the motorcycle chick in leather, or the horny maid,' Alba says as she climbs a hill, panting slightly. 'I get all these screenplays that start, 'Tawnya is in the shower. The water streams down her naked, perky breasts.' " [via Whatevs]

· The LA Film Festival begins today with a screening of Down in the Valley at the ArcLight. It's just like Sundance, but when people wear hideous, furry boots, it's not because their feet are cold—it's because they are morons.
· WOW troublemakers/documentarians Fenton Bailey and Randy Barbato will loiter around the Egyptian to answer questions after a screening of their short doc Sex in the 70s: Blue Movie Britain and Confessions of a Window Cleaner, one of the movies that inspired them.
· Tonight is Cabaret Voltaire’s 2nd Anniversary Musical Smorgasbord Extravaganza Tribute to Abe Lincoln at the Steve Allen Theater. If you dress like Lincoln, not only are your chances of sexual relations with Abe fetishists exponentially increased, you also receive a half-price discount on the cover. That's a win-win, friends.

Have you ever wished that whilst having your guts stomped out by a bouncer that refuses to warm to your continued attempts to invade Spider Club (Paris Hilton must know your true feelings, why can't they understand?), you could yelp out the name of the club's owner or that evening's sainted promoter in the vain hope that your beating will be somewhat curtailed? If so, LA.com's got your back with its guide to our fine city's hottest nightlife personalities. "On the list," as it were: Prey owner Sam Nazarian, DJ "Mr. Nicole Richie" AM, and Brent Bolthouse (whose radio show on Indie 103 with Danny Masterson is a must-listen for Danny Masterson fans), who controls the infamous Friday night list at the aforementioned Spider. The helpful LA.com folk even include a photo gallery with the list, so that you can wave goodbye to someone far better connected than you in those final, sweet moments of consciousness preceding the unceremonious dumping of your broken, D-list body in a urine-soaked alley. Fun!

Your guesses are in! Circle the drain of One Hair-Raising Blind Vice once more before moving on:

There are probably worse jobs than being a personal assistant to Lindsay Lohan—barbed-wire suppository tester or door-to-door herpes cream salesman spring to mind without too much effort—but no other gig leaves the former employee with an amusing array of "Lohanecdotes" to share with the internets. A "man-nanny" to an "unnamed" actress reveals what it was like to babysit his charge on a recent New York movie set:

There are rumors spreading around the War of the Worlds publicity tour (currently circling Europe and en route to Paris) that Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes have once again nuked the expectations of a still-skeptical public by getting engaged in Rome last night. The rumor holds that an announcement may come in Paris as early as tomorrow.

Green felt-fondling sister site Oddjack enlists a Maxim editor to handicap Russell Crowe's next victim (i.e., set the odds, not incapacitate with a malfunctioning hotel phone—Crowe's proven he can handle that part all on his own). Those in danger include any member of the service industry, Cinderella Man co-star Craig Bierko (whom Crowe has previously assaulted in the press), and the actor himself:

· Tom Hanks' Playtone and Universal open wide for the rights to Deep Throat's life story—more fellatio puns TK as the development process, um, goes down? [Variety]
· Luke "Brother of the Butterscotch Stallion" Wilson is in talks to star in Ivan Reitman's Super Ex for Regency, about a man who breaks up with a superhero. Jokes about her "super PMS" will certainly be every bit as hilarious as we dare to hope. [THR]
· The new Coldplay album moves 737,000 copies in its first week, and the record industry is so happy it momentarily forgets to claim that they would've sold 4.3 billion more if not for file-sharing scofflaws. [Variety]
· Today, stuntpeople will repeatedly throw themselves down the Academy's front steps to demonstrate why they deserve an Oscar category. [THR]
· George Lucas tells network execs it's time to begin killing each other over the rights to broadcast the Star Wars franchise on television. Incredible bloodletting to immediately follow. [Variety]

Wherein we invite our readers to tempt the instantaneous liquefaction of their cortical language centers by puzzling over the brain-smoothing prose of humpy E! gossip despot Ted Casablanca and hazarding a guess as to the identity of his weekly blind-item. No poof-pounding this week (even Ted needs a break once in a while), but a tricky game awaits nonetheless. Shuffle listlessly through the blighted landscape of One Hair-Raising Blind Vice:

With all of the attention that Scientology's been attracting from Tom Cruise's recent run-ins with the media, we'd assumed that the Kabbalah Centre had decided that Hollywood wasn't big enough for two money-gobbling inclusionary spiritual inspiration societies, packed up their Zohars, magic water, and candles that smell like God, and moved to Nebraska. But suddenly and inexplicably (does anyone really give a shit about Esther, Demi, and the Kootch anymore?), Kabbalah's so over that it might be coming back, with 20/20 and Radar magazine putting the screws to the Centre. (Didn't cutting-edge outlets like The New Republic and The NY Post go there, like, a year ago?)

Director/Friend of Harvey Kevin Smith tells British mag Uncut that pal Ben Affleck's turn in Truth, Justice and the American Way may finally curtail the relentless, public buttock-pummeling that's marked the last two years of the actor's career:

The clever folks at Accolo (we didn't have the attention span to figure out what they do, but whatever it is, we're hiring them) have found lost footage from Paris Hilton's infamous burger-fellating ad and cobbled together a far sexier version. We apologize in advance for any unexpected tumescence during your first cup of coffee of the day.

· Oh, those Golden Girls, always trying to save the elephants! Next week, Bea Arthur will do her part and beat some ivory poachers to death with her bare hands.
· Nicole Kidman hangs out with man, makes news.
· Coldplay's new album opens at number one, proving the country's thirst for exceptionally well-produced elevator music.
· Porn-purveying sister site Fleshbot rounds up the most recent action in the runaway celebrity areola space.

· A Somewhat Smaller Night In Music Than Last Night, But Still Pretty Good: Helen Stellar at the Troubadour, Raveonettes at Spaceland. And if you care at all, last night's Wilco show was amazing. Just sayin'.
· A line-up of the late actor/monologist's celebrity friends (we don't know which ones, but we like surprises) will assemble at UCLA for "Leftover Stories to Tell: A Tribute to Spalding Gray." [It seems this event is a year from now. We're giving you plenty of advance notice. We're making the intern get in a time machine and hold seats for everybody.] How about a nice French movie about a gay dump-truck driver, courtesy of Flavorpill?
· A reader assures us that writer David Vann's reading from his memoir, A Mile Down: The True Story of a Man's Disastrous Career at Sea, at Dutton's Brentwood tonight, should not be overlooked. So we're not overlooking it.

A few readers have e-mailed to tell us about a bomb threat (did some lose a tough credit arbitration?) at the WGA a few minutes ago, and the building's been evacuated (see cameraphone pic at left, which just looks like two dudes hanging out). Nobody seems to have any details, but we'll update as they become available. In the meantime, avoid coffee shops along Fairfax, which will soon swell with even more unemployed writers than usual.

Hollywood PrivacyWatch celebrity sightings are sent in by our readers. Send yours to tips@defamer.com (putting “privacywatch” or “sighting” in the subject line helps immensely) and let the world know that you didn't need to see Quentin Tarantino making out, but you did need to tell everyone about it once your eyeballs were seared.