The runaway success of NBC perfect storm Ben Silverman's resurrected American Gladiators, the spandex-clad, suspiciously muscled new stud of his network's strike-crippled primetime stable, inspired studio MGM Television to scour its back catalog for a way to further exploit the just-revived brand. According to THR, that desperate hunt turned up short-lived 1994 spin-off Gladiators 2000, a Ryan Seacrest-hosted curiosity that pitted pre-teen competitors in scaled-down bloodsports from the flagship show and added educational quizzes about health and fitness (cower before the brain-melting nutritional nightmare that is the Food Pyramid!).

In a shocking development in the Heath Ledger tragedy, the NY Post is reporting that an unidentified con man has been making calls pretending to be Heath's father. Not only did he convince the Manhattan funeral home that held Ledger's body to book him multiple rooms at the Carlysle hotel for him and his "family," he also took advantage of grieving A-list movie stars Tom Cruise and John Travolta. From their report:

Last night, a quasi-dramatic screaming match between Britney Spears and her manager Sam Lufti quickly turned from a typical Monday With Britney™ into a full-on Mariah-style breakdown. After a barefoot and bruised-cheeked Britney called current loudmouth boytoy paparazzo Adnan saying, "Baby, come get me," The Animal's estranged parents rushed onto the scene, as did the LAPD. When the frantic Adnan finally arrived, he was denied entrance to Brit's castle and then became engaged in one of the eeriest text message conversations we've ever seen (conveniently delivered via iPhone!):

· Take heart, Britney fans: On today's The View, one of the upstanding new people in Spears's life told Barbara Walters she's getting the help she needs for her "treatable" mental "issues"; Walters wants to believe him, though she admits she's not as reliable a lie-detector as the ones they use on The Moment of Truth.
· Eugene Mirman sets the standard by which all subsequent Tom Cruise parody videos will be judged. Sorry, Jerry O'Connell, it's going to take more than adding some outtakes to unseat the new, turtlenecked king.
· A jubilant No Country for Old Men's Josh Brolin dances upon the grave of the big studios who signed his paychecks.
· The Daily Show's Aasif Mandvi helps explain the WGA's often-confusing strike rules.

When we last checked in on the status of The Imaginarium Of Dr. Parnassus, the Terry Gilliam joint that featured the final work that Heath Ledger committed to celluloid, the project looked to be in serious jeopardy. However, as we should have all learned by now, it's impossible to underestimate the power of creativity in Hollywood, especially when a $30 million production budget is on the line. According to an interview that Christopher Plummer gave to People (and since when is he on the radar of People, anyway?), the project hasn't been shitcanned quite yet:

As the entire world has previously noted, Jessica Simpson isn't exactly the brightest bulb, nor the luckiest. A year ago, Simpson was being paid millions for tell-all articles in OK! Magazine, her mug (and tits) sashayed from glossy mag cover to coffee table books shot by Annie Liebovitz. Nowadays, the dimly lit "artist" has been forced to give interviews (for free!) to outlets like Video Business Online and, without any caring overseers to guide her answers, is giving quotes that surely won't help Blonde Ambition sell-through numbers. For example, "I think that people can have a misconception of who I am as an artist." Oh really now? [Video Business Online]

· Music round-up: Radar Bros. at the Echo; Jason Reeves at The Hotel Café; The Parson Red Heads at Spaceland.
· Bob Odenkirk joins the Armando's Show's WGA/SAG Solidarity Spectacular at iO West, guest-hosting their last performance before next week's finale to their month-long strikestravaganza.
· SNL's Fred Armisen is joined by Petra Haden and Chelsea Peretti at the Troubadour.

When we briefly worked through the ramifications of the interim deal that Lionsgate struck with the WGA late last week, our thoughts immediately turned to the eventual resumption of production of the company's critically acclaimed, hit TV properties like Mad Men, daring to dream that our favorite hard-drinking, secretary-despoiling ad execs might find their way back to AMC in the not-too-distant future. But we never thought to consider the potential dark side of LG's television business lurching back into action, and so were shocked to learn this afternoon that the studio is partnering with Starz, our go-to premium-cable movie outlet when HBO seems to be showing nothing but Just My Luck and The Devil Wears Prada, to adapt subtle, multiple-Oscar-winning L.A. race-parable Crash for the small screen. The good news: according to Var, "high production values" and the participation of the original, uniquely heavy-handed creative team will ensure a viewing experience every bit as fulfilling as your original trip to the multiplex. The bad news:

Ever since Quentin Tarantino blew the doors off an unsupecting Sundance Film Festival with the release of Reservoir Dogs, he's been a consistent January fixture on the Park City scene since that fabled winter of `92. Heck, after 16 years, he's practically a local by now. So imagine QT's surprise when he strolled out of local Starbucks with his mocha choca latté ya ya and encountered a pesky paparazzo standing there in the parking lot. The good news? QT looks like he's dropped some LBs since we last saw him (at the presser for Golden Globe nominations). The bad news? He got a little slap happy with the lensman.

After the success of former PayPal COO David Sacks's Thank You for Smoking, Hollywood has renewed its efforts to tap the swollen bank accounts of Silicon Valley's newly wealthy entrepreneurs. But the come-on I've just received is more unusual than most such attempts. The movie in question? A film adaptation of James B. Stewart's DisneyWar, a savage portrait of former Disney CEO Michael Eisner. Eisner drew many enemies in the Valley during his reign at the media company, so there might plausibly be some willing to fund a cinematic poke at him.

Literally hundreds of still-developing lungs could be imperiled as Woody Allen's legion of teenage fans flock to his new movie, Cassandra's Dream, which received its PG-13 rating well before the MPAA promised to crack down on such smoking-positive cinematic fare with an automatic R. Concerned parents: when you drop your kids off at the art house to see the "new Colin Farrell movie," make sure they mean the one where we kills a priest, not the one where he promotes the spread of lung cancer. [NY Times]

Until Ryan Seacrest called in sick for last night's SAG Awards, we'd always just kinda assumed that E! had procured him in from the hallowed halls of the Cyberdnye Systems Corporation. Turns out that maybe, just maybe, he is human after all. We just got a call from E! letting us know that Ry Guy had (gasp!) "the flu" last night. But, as with any ongoing investigation, there's always more. Moments ago, a source at Details Magazine told us that Seacrest managed to show up at Pier 59 in Los Angeles on-time and ready to shoot their April cover. Says our source:

• New Commonwealth Bank ad [YouTube]

As much as we have tried to express restraint in the latest episode of Jolie Wombwatch, these photos of Angelina sans bubbly at last night's SAGs are hard to look at without a raised eyebrow or two. Sure, we sometimes drink water at parties, but that's mainly because we're broke and don't feel like spending 18 bucks on a sip of cheap champagne. So, with that in mind, let's recap the facts that we know up to this point: Angie was wearing a muumuu, the Pitt-Jolies can afford champagne, and water does a pregnant body good. We entered these facts into our trusty supercomputer and the results came back with 90% certainty that Mrs. Jolie-Pitt will soon be buying a few of those trendy expandable waisted Seven jeans at Kitson (as long as no animals, babies, or trees were harmed during the manufacturing process, that is).

When the WGA and AMPTP finally announce a new deal, we're really going to miss all those What Striking Writers Are Doing To With Their Free Time pieces that have kept us so entertained during the labor war. In today's LAT, some screenwriters chat about how they've temporarily thrown off the lucrative, artistically stifling shackles of Final Draft and embraced the creative freedom offered by the novel; however, not every agent is thrilled about the prospect of having to plow through idling Hollywood scribes' boredom-inspired literary experiments: "'Oftentimes, you shudder when a screenwriter sends you a novel, because they tend to be strong with dialogue but crappy with context, and novels are all about creating the proper context for the story,' said [book agent Mary] Evans, whose clients include Smith and Michael Chabon. 'Screenwriters are attracted to novel writing because they can let their freak flag fly and just write what they want, but the truly talented novelist-slash-screenwriter is very rare." [LAT; Image via marvunapp.com ]

News The Easily Impressed Can Use Dept. Please, Oz/Rescue Me/Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles star Dean Winters begs of you: Before allowing yourself to be seduced at a bar or via the MySpaces by someone identifying himself as the steadily working actor, demand to see a driver's license or SAG card; that "Dean" you're about to sleep with is quite possibly a deranged imposter. [Page Six]

· La Vie en Rose Oscar nominee Marion Cotillard tries to parlay some of her awards-season heat into a role alongside Christian Bale and Johnny Depp in Michael Mann's Public Enemies, playing gangster John Dillinger's "torch singer girlfriend." [Variety]
· Meanwhile, (rightly) Academy-ignored Charlie Wilson's War star Julia Roberts hunts for her next chance at awards glory, attaching herself to star in and produce an adaptation of soon-to-be published novel Hothouse Flowers, about a recently divorced NY ad exec who throws it all away to embark on a fabulous post-break-up adventure. [THR]
[After the jump: NBC sues Dick Wolf!; Oscar nominations translate to bigger weekend grosses; the fate of Mary-Kate and Ben Kingsley's Sundance film.]

Award season is, as Sean Penn says, truly a season in hell — if, that is, one attempts to follow every twist and turn and nomination. Avoid the stress with this handy scorecard, which we'll adjust, periodically. For Golden Globe wins and Oscar nominations, we're only counting the big nine categories. No points for best soundtrack. Sorry.

A reader with much sharper eyes than ours asked us to go back and review a SAG awards audience reaction shot during the standing ovation for legend Mickey Rooney, feeling that there was something a little lascivious in Hairspray star John Travolta's sidelong glance at Eastern Promises' Viggo Mortensen.

Ryan Seacrest, quite possibly the hardest-working man in showbiz now that James Brown has kicked the bucket, was a last-minute no-show for last night's E! coverage of the SAG Awards Red Carpet. Though co-anchor Giuliana DePandi Rancic did mention early on in her pre-show commentary that Seacrest was out "sick," this bit of news somehow didn't make its way into the West Coast feed (East Coast viewers did see the quick explanation). We have always been fascinated by Seacrest's seemingly unparalled ability to work nine different jobs simultaneously, so we figured that he must've been REALLY sick to miss the first star-studded red carpet gala of the season. However, our initial curiosity about the situation was renewed this morning when Seacrest showed up on time at KIIS-FM this morning for his radio show.