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The Mother of All Trailers is like spending two and a half minutes inside a studio executive's wet dream, in which his subconscious mind delivers up a genre-crossing, absurdly star-studded cinematic product that no test audience, no matter how fickle, could possibly resist. Of course, the production costs would probably stretch into the ten figures, but that's a problem one can safely ignore while still in the throes of REM sleep, at least until a nocturnal climax following the trailer's final frame cruelly releases him into a waking nightmare of budget overruns.

The shadowy circumstances surrounding the death of Anna Nicole Smith's 20-year-old son grow ever more sinister, as the Bahamian coronor, an obvious cliffhanger buff, has told the AP that she now knows who and/or what led to the massive heart attack that killed him, but isn't yet at liberty to say:

Crew members on a downtown L.A. location shoot for CSI: New York were relieved yesterday when a real corpse discovered in the building where they were filming turned out to be the "mummified" remains of a long-dead tenant, and not the body of a forgotten production assistant who never returned from a curiously prolonged Starbucks run. Reports People:

A mere 15 months after a whirlwind fake courtship resulted in an almost instantaneous, indefinite engagement and a mysterious pregnancy that resulted in the cutest set of rented babies that you're ever likely to see in the pages of a national magazine, Tom Cruise is very nearly ready to make an honest woman of Katie Holmes. Us Weekly reports that Holmes' "dream wedding" is just "days away," happening "soon," "in the next three to six weeks," or during the even more tantalizingly vague timeframe of "the early fall." We're sure she's eager to finally get this next step out of the way, as the billion-year commitment to her soulmate won't feel truly official until Cruise smears some wedding cake on her face, flashes his trademark smile, then whispers in her ear, "Don't even try to run. There are snipers everywhere. There is no escape."

· We couldn't live with ourselves if we didn't point you to this Kirk-on-Spock slashtube presentation of "Closer," which stirs up complicated feelings we haven't experienced since that first intergalactic trip on the Startub Enterprise.
Insensitive contextual ad deployment suggests that Anna Nicole Smith might be able to heal her profound pain with a trip to Target.
DJ AM has many, many sneakers. We hope that you are just as excited by this news as we are.
Radar stumps Stephen Baldwin: "Just because I'm born-again doesn't mean I have to have the Ten Commandments memorized. See, that's the bad rap the born-again thing has gotten. What being born-again means for me is that I'm having so much fun in this interview that we're not going to go out and get an 8-ball of blow tonight and go crazy. That's what born again means to me: Inasmuch as I'd like to do that, gosh, I'll just go home and read some scripture with the wife."
· Please, Kiefer, don't ever stop tackling Christmas trees. The world needs more Christmas tree tracklers, not fewer. [fourth item]
· TVGasm once again unleashes the Chenbot.

In an interview with Access Hollywood (video available here), Jane Fonda offered some surprisingly frank thoughts on the exploits of her persistently underhydrated and unaccounted for Georgia Rule co-star, Lindsay Lohan:

When we guessed that Sacha Baron Cohen's grand entrance to the aborted Borat premiere on a wench-drawn carriage would "probably prove to be the only truly interesting thing that will emerge from the Toronto Film Festival," we obviously had no idea that a triple murder would eventually spice up the event:

· Chris Elliott, actor, writer, and star of brilliant sitcom Get a Life, talks about the art of comedy writing with SNL and Curb Your Enthusiasm scribe Alan Zweibel at the Skirball.
· Music round-up: Ima Robot throws a CD release party/show at Safari Sam's; Black Keys at Amoeba; Adam Green at the Troubadour.
· Mediabistro assembles a panel of reality TV professionals to help you turn that vague idea about people shouting at briefcases full of money into a Howie Mandel-hosted hit at their Sell That Reality Show and Pitch Slam tonight at Cinespace.

PrivacyWatch celebrity sightings are submitted by our readers, and are now posted several times a week—so start sending them in more often! Send yours to tips[AT]defamer.com (please put "sighting" or "PrivacyWatch" in the subject line) and let everyone know about the time Tony Danza demonstrated the classy way to be a shitfaced celebrity at a Malibu bar.

Waving from a window at Cedars Sinai to the paparazzi photographers who are easily the most positive influence in his young life , young Sean Preston Federline has never looked happier, for he knows that his harried, butter-fingered mother's attention will be focused on the new baby instead of him, a benign maternal neglect that should serve to drastically reduce the number of gravity-related head injuries he'll suffer in the coming year. He'll laugh and laugh from the safety of his nanny-driven stroller as his little brother learns firsthand, as Sean once did, that Mommy always drops the squriming baby before the cup of Jamba Juice when she gets flustered by the nice men trying to take their picture.

An operative just filed this report about an still-unfolding, watery disaster over at Hollywood Center Studios:

Girls Gone Wild impresario Joe Francis has always been at the vanguard of the inebriated titty-flash industry, so it is probably with great pride that he can now lay claim to being the first person found guilty of breaching the new anti-kiddie porn laws set up by the federal government. The LAT reports:

The owner of Kitson, the oft-tabloid-namechecked Robertson Boulevard boutique that offers the celebrity-obsessed the first opportunity to express their allegiance in various high-profile domestic squabbles through a trendy t-shirt purchase, is suing Us Weekly, the glossy that once delighted in publicizing the shop's free-spending, celebutard clientele, alleging that some legal feuds between the two parties have led the magazine to stop obsessively documenting the comings and goings of his business's famous patrons.. The LAT documents the currently chilly state of the two parties' relationship, which was once was as warm and snuggly as one of the store's sale-priced Cambodian babies nestled in an Ugg boot:

In an announcement that surprised approximately no one, Apple reveals that it will offer full-length Disney movies in the iTunes store. Equally unsurprising is Steve Jobs' desire to sell you a slightly improved video iPod on which to view your newly downloaded movies. [Variety]
· Peter Jackson options the historical fantasy series Temeraire, whose dragons-in-the-Age-of-Napoleon setting gets his naughty parts a-tingling: "I can't wait to see Napoleonic battles fought with a squadron of dragons. That's what I go to the movies for." [THR]
Gold Circle Films gives Batman franchise killer Joel Schumacher an opportunity to ply his hacky trade, signing him to direct the supernatural thriller Town Creek. [Variety]
· John Leguizamo dangles perilously close to infomercial-hosting career oblivion, signing up for a Spike TV pilot about a "bank heist that goes terribly awry," as basic cable bank heists are wont to do. [THR]
VH1 casts one of Flavor of Love's "eccentric" (read: utterly, weave-yankingly insane) contestants in her own dating show spin-off. Be very, very afraid. [Variety]

We think the CNN headline writer was referring to the unsympathetic character Braff plays in The Last Kiss, and not the man himself. In their defense, however, when an actor and his on-screen persona mesh as seamlessly as with Braff's, knowing exactly whose long-winded navelgazing you'd like to cut short with a stinging, five-fingered imprint on the side of the head can become a highly confounding proposition.

Having vanquished corporate nemesis Tom Freston to an ashram in Burma to seek a new direction in his unexpectedly abbreviated media career, CBS Corp CEO and future galactic dictator Les Moonves moves on to the next phase of his plan for eventual world domination: ingratiating himself to cantankerous Viacom boss Sumner Redstone to set up a takeover of his multimedia empire. According to the NY Times, Moonves' strategy is already in full swing:

• Bloodsport Mentos Commercial [YouTube via Al Cabino]

Drop what you are doing, step away from your desk, and offer up joyous shouts of thanks (or, depending on your perspective, hair-tearing lamentations) to your preferred deity, for Britney Spears has successfully reproduced again, according to the National Enquirer. Almost exactly a year after introducing the world to soon-to-be fumbled son Sean Preston, Spears and impressively potent househusband Kevin Federline delivered another baby boy via Caesarean (vaginal birth is so low class, y'all) early this morning, moving the couple one infant closer to completing their planned, nineteen-child-strong brood, a white-trash breeding project that should keep her uterus booked through her prime reproductive years.

Having not seen (and no desire to ever see) The Path to 9/11, we have no idea how effectively The Path to Mickey parodies the actual miniseries. (Wasn't it a dramatization, and not a documentary? Where's Pluto as Harvey Keitel?) We do, however, feel a responsibility to pass along any work that reveals Mickey Mouse's sordid history as a Nazi sympathizer, his ties to the Kennedy assassination, and his role as a co-hijacker of the plane that crashed into the Pentagon on September 11th. We always knew in our heart that the acting career was a front for more nefarious pursuits.