After yesterday's Wisconsin primary, a convincing win by Barack Obama in a largely white state, the prospect of a black Democratic nominee, and a black president, looks possible, even likely. And it only took 232 years! Of course, oh-so-progressive Hollywood got there long ago. Here's the ultimate list of black presidents, from movies and TV. They range from President Camacho of Idiocracy through to the weary statesman played by Morgan Freeman in Deep Impact. (If we've missed any, let us know.)

When you're five months pregnant, sheer fabrics and subtlety don't exactly go together. But Nicole Kidman, seen here promoting The Golden Compass in Japan yesterday, is brazen! She will show you her baby bump and you will like it! On the opposite side of the spectrum is Nicole's replacement, Katie Holmes, who wore a Look Ma, I'm Not Pregnant silk dress to last night's Costume Designer's Guild Awards. How tight was it? So tight that we now possess the knowledge that Tom Cruise prefers his women to wear low-cut cotton undies. But putting their triumphant maternal updates aside, what's with Tom's paramours and their preference for Auntie Mame numbers?

· Hollywood Out of Ideas: Holy Shit, Now They're Raiding the Game Closet Edition. Universal signs a six-year deal with Hasbro to produce "at least four feature films based on branded properties." Among the classic toys and boardgames in their stable: Monopoly, Candy Land, and Ouija. Bay + Candy Land + Giant Fucking Gumdrops + Marshmellow Explosions = Wicked. [Variety]
· The NBC Universal Super-Exec League of Silver Man, The Zucker, and The Phantom Graboff have connected their powerful Peacock Rings and once again produced the impossible: a 52-week programming schedule. You read that right: 52 weeks. They are truly amazing. [Variety]
· Variety sticks fork in this year's Oscar telecast, declares it done. [Variety]

Last Sunday's LAT ran a story about Ryan Kavanaugh, a 33-year-old middleman between Hollywood and the secretive and incredibly confusing world of hedge funds. They reported that Kavanaugh, a former dotcom financier with a long list of EP credits to his name, would sell the private investment groups on "slates" of movies, investing hundreds of millions in a dozen films at a time (to lessen the impact of any single stinker). Of course, this is Hollywood, where stinkers come in biblical proportions, and their investment quickly dwindled to barely the value of a concession stand Combo Pack. Now, armed with Scary Hollywood Lawyer Martin Singer, Kavanaugh is fighting back, claiming the entire piece was planted by his publinemesis Mike Sitrick, who is currently suing Kavanaugh for "allegedly mismanaging a multimillion-dollar investment."

When it comes to getting in shape, a few names spring to mind: Richard Simmons, Tony Little, Slim Goodbody, and ... Kirstie Alley? Famous first for replacing Shelly Long on Cheers, then for getting really fat, and then for losing a few pounds, and most recently for gaining a few of them back, Kirstie (aka "Actress") has decided to throw her gigantic hat into the weight-loss ring. Now that the curtains have drawn on her 3-year relationship with Jenny Craig, People is reporting that Alley is developing her own weight-loss brand with a 2009 launch date in mind. She pledges to "create something new that will help millions of people end the seemingly never ending fatty-roller coaster ride."

An inspired move by New York to play on Lindsay Lohan's obsession with Marilyn Monroe. Adam Moss' magazine scored one of the big web hits of the week, by persuading the Hollywood actress to strip for the same photographer who took the last, erotic photographs of Monroe before she committed suicide. Like I said, inspired. But not very original, it turns out. If Lindsay Lohan was paying homage to the mid-century bombshell, New York should have explained that it was itself paying homage to rival Vanity Fair. In 2006, Lohan channeled her alter ego in a spread for Graydon Carter's magazine. The styling? Borrowed from the first pictures of a 19-year-old Marilyn Monroe, at the beach in a white bathing suit. To think that, only two years ago, Lohan could play the ingenue without ridicule; now she's more credible as a washed-up actress on suicide watch. (Clockwise from top left: the early Marilyn, by photographer Andre De Dienes; Vanity Fair's February 2006 cover; this week's New York; and, the inspiration, the mid-century actress' "last sitting" with Bert Stein. Below: larger photos.)

After giving an anti-war interview to Middle Eastern newspaper Al Hayat, Sharon Stone is finally getting rave reviews. Sadly, they're not from the trades; they're from the terrorists. After visiting the region on a very Angelina Jolie-esque "fact-finding mission," Stone told the paper she feels "great pain" thinking about the war in Iraq, prompting extremist leaders like Muhammed Abel Al to get downright gushy with praise: "This lady is smelling and seeing the dangers for the future of America." It's not quite the same as getting a plucky pullquote from Jeffrey Lyons, but it'll do. However, it gets worse! Apparently, if we don't "follow" Stone's lead, the United States will be totally fucked.

The final Runway four climbed onto Live with Regis and Kelly's barstools this morning, offering us, the way-too-involved Project Runway fan, the illusion of seeing some old, completely-charisma-free friends on national morning TV! (Perhaps the same is being said of us.) Moments after Jillian Lewis shared the many, many mishaps that made the construction of her Twizzlers dress such a living nightmare (so many licorice-related complications!), Reeg goes in for the kill:

Sure, you already brewed up a vat of 9-layer dip for your Independent Sprit Awards party this Saturday, but don't go nuts and eat the whole thing. You're gonna want to have some leftovers laying around, because apparently there's another award show going on this weekend. It's called the Oscars, and while there's no big prime time star like Rainn Wilson at the helm, they did manage to convince a comedian from basic cable to perform the hostly duties. The New York Times scored an interview with said host, and word on the street is that is Jon Stewart is going to attempt to be humorous!

With a backlog of magazines accumulating on our nightstand (we don't know who ordered us the gift subscription to The Plushisist, but that's not our furry bag, baby), we apologize for not having gotten to Los Angeles magazine's Movie Issue sooner. Had we done so, we might have already noted their epic profile of Paul Haggis—the two-time Academy Award-winning writer/director who rocked the Hollywood firmament with Progressive Auto Insurance commercial-cum-racism allegory Crash, a film in which Sandra Bullock did some of her best Latino-locksmith-discriminating work to date. Haggis followed that with the even grimmer Iraq war drama In The Valley of Elah (a John Kerry DVD Club Selection of the Month™!), a film that only further cemented his reputation as suffering from an acute case of auteur's anhedonia:

When that alleged clip from Spike Jonze's Where The Wild Things Are hit the internets earlier this week, the reactions to the footage varied widely. Even though we loved it, a barrage of negative feedback almost immediately began taking root in the comment sections of many blogs who covered the leak ("a piece of crap," said a Movieweb reader; "looks like a car crash," said a Gawker commenter). The furor caused Jonze to make a statement defending his highly-anticipated project:

When Lindsay Lohan shows her boobs and it's not by accident, when David Archuleta rockets to front runner status on American Idol merely by gazing into the camera and when Larry The Cable Guy is poised to set the box office afire with Witless Protection, that's a signal for us here at Defamer to call in some big guns capable of helping us cover all the goings-on in the pop culture universe. Unfortunately, none of those big guns returned our phone calls, so we went to Plan B and called Nick Malis instead. You may know him from his previous guest blogging stints on this site or, perhaps, from his recently re-launched blog, Cute Things Falling Asleep. Regardless of how much you know about him, know that he'll be here for the rest of the week covering all the stories that the other editors don't feel like getting around to. We kid, we kid! We think Nick is fab and are extremely grateful that he'll be popping in to lend us a hand for the next few days while we continue to conduct our search for America's Next Top Defamer. Enjoy!

Devotees of The Wire, myself among them, should be delighted by this hint given by one of the HBO drama's actors. Dominic West, who plays the increasingly manic police detective, Jimmy McNulty, tells the Los Angeles Times some of his colleagues are lobbying David Simon for a movie spinoff, and the show's creator is indeed considering a prequel. But here's the sacrilegious thought, which I can't suppress: the final season is not the triumph that fans had hoped for; and it's time for Simon to let go.

Yesterday afternoon, while I was not watching Be Kind Rewind, I wondered, why don't they just make an entire film that's a homemade version of a real one? That seems easier. In fact, that was done to Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark in the magical pre-YouTube age of 1982-88 by three 12-18 year olds — that is, the kids started shooting the film in sequence at age 12, and by the last scenes they were several years older, so they age during the movie, which apparently is not the only reason this feature-length shot-for-shot remake of Raiders is entirely watchable, by complete strangers, for more than art/camp value. That's what every news report (one came out every few months since Spielberg discovered the film in 2002) says. CLIPS GALORE, and a link to the entire remake, below.

· Because nothing says "I'm a good dad" like psychotically destroying a wooden desk with a sledgehammer! Score another one for Ben Silverman, this guy can't lose. [NBC.com]
· Our pervy (in a good way!) brethren over at Fleshbot got their hands on a clip of Gene Simmons giving a half-hearted rogering to some blonde lass. You have been warned, the clip is both NSFW and NSF-YourStomach. [Fleshbot]
· While we didn't actually take the time to read Esquire's Kate Beckinsale quiz, we spend a lot of time looking at the pictures. Wonder if this means we passed. [Esquire]
· Whoever convinced ScarJo to get that horrible tattoo on her forearm needs to be reprimanded. [ONTD]
· How does one top off a day in which millions and millions of Americans looked at your breasts? If you're Lindsay Lohan, you do it by going to watch Monday Night Raw. With no pants on. [The Sun]

Say your prayers, eat your vitamins and vote for Barack Obama! Or so sayeth Hulk Hogan, who suplexed and then leg-dropped an unsuspecting Clinton camp on Jimmy Kimmel Live by pledging his allegiance and his vote to Obama. And although our experience in the art of campaigning begins and ends with our run for Student Council back in high school (which, we might add, was successful ... three times!), we're pretty darn sure that the Obama ticket could really benefit by awarding the Hulkster a spot on to their roster. Perhaps this is finally the way that Obama can silence the critics who claim he lacks experience in foreign diplomacy!

Following in the current publishing world trend of putting leading actresses of the day in meticulously art directed recreations of Hitchcock films, naked Marilyn spreads, and other potentially terrifying scenarios, Jessica Alba sat for a series of iconic horror movie tableaus for Latina magazine. The shoot called upon the unsung-serious-actress- trapped-in- the-body-of-a -mindblowing-hottie to reach deeper into her own talent stores than ever before. And reach she did, pulling out every open-mouthed trick in her acting playbook, to put her own imprint on such iconic cinematic moments as (from L to R) Rosemary's Baby, the Psycho shower scene, and the climactic pigeon-attack from Working Girl.

"Watch the sex tape Gene doesn't want you to see," GenesSecret.com promises. The website purportedly hosts a NSFW sex tape of Kiss frontman Gene Simmons. Leave aside the question of whether anyone wants to see Simmons in flagrante. Does Simmons himself really object to the site? Nothing revives the Q factor of an aging rocker like a bit of scandal. Since he's no longer recording, just touring, he doesn't have a skittish label to appease. And thanks to the Internet, he doesn't have to rely on the tabloids to get his name out. Welcome to the age of DIY career makeovers. Is it really Simmons? Judge for yourself from these excerpts in which his face is most visible:

In which organization's Lost & Found bin would you find the following: keys to BMWs and Porsches, an iPod, a walking stick, a Republican voter's registration card, and orthopedic inserts? No, not the Dick Cheney Fan Club. Try the WGA! Items left behind after the writer's strike paint a not-so-pretty of our favorite rebels with pens. Not even the presence of "about 10 pairs of glasses" can woo us into forgiving one member's disregard for his engraved wedding ring. More from the list, including what was engraved on the holy band (in case you're missing yours), after the jump.

· For those of you about to rock, we salute you. The Hives and the Donnas will be at The Wiltern, Dean and Britta are taking the stage at the El Rey and Meiko is performing at the Hotel Café.
· In preparation for the second season of their awesome MTV sketch show, Human Giant (along with Brendon Small and Howard Kremer) will be bringing the funny to the UCB.
· Russell Banks will be reading from his new tome, The Reserve, at Vroman's. The book has been described by NPR as being "lushy romantic", which is a sharp 180 turn in style from the author best known for depressing masterworks like The Sweet Hereafter and Affliction.