All that glitters...

Coming soon to a cinema near you - Precious: Based on the Novel "Push" by Sapphire. Aside from its rather complicated title (engineered so that no-one would mistake it for the similarly named Dakota Fanning sci-fi thriller), the film is garnering rave reviews for its powerful central performance by Gabourey Sidibe as Claireece "Precious" Jones, an obese, illiterate 16-year old subjected to a life of rape and abuse at the hands of her parents.

Perhaps more surprising, is the fact that one of the other stand-out performances is delivered by Mariah Carey, a woman whose film debut was so bad her equity card should have been retracted. Frumped up and toned down, Carey has put the diva on hold and turned in a sensitive portrayal of a street-smart social worker. And it's not unfeasible to think that an Oscar nomination may even be on the horizon (looks over shoulder for four horsemen).

This has obviously sent a ripple of jealousy coursing throughout Divadom, with Mariah's peers regarding her success with envious eyes. Top of the list is Jennifer Lopez, who was first a dancer, then a reputable actress, then a ropey actress, then a singer, then a fashion designer, then a parfumier, and is now an actress again. Her CV is littered with more turkeys than Bernard Matthews' backyard, but she has, on occasion, managed a few half-decent performances.

Her 2006 film El Cantante, which told the story of the King of Salsa, Hector Lavoe, is one such film. J-Lo got some of the best reviews of her career for her role as Hector's fiery wife Puchi, although as the star of Anaconda and Gigli that can't have been too much of a stretch.

Speaking with characteristic modesty to Latina Magazine, Jenny from the block has shared her belief that she deserved some golden, man-shaped baubles for her efforts: "I feel like I had that [Oscar worthy role]... but I don't even think the academy members saw it. It was funny; when the Oscars were on... I was sitting there with my twins--I couldn't have been happier--but I was like, 'How dope would it have been if I would've won the Oscar and been here in my hospital bed accepting the award?'"

But don't shed a tear for the ego-driven multi-hyphenate, she knows her time will come - "Things will happen when they're supposed to happen. I have the utmost faith and no doubt that it will one day, when and if it's supposed to. You can't get all crazy twisted over it."

She's absolutely right. But if you really want to see crazy-twisted, let's make sure there's a camera trained on her all night on March 7th, just in case Mariah gets her moment on the stage of the Kodak Theatre. Now wouldn't that be 'dope'?

Attack of the couch people

Daytime TV presenters are a curious bunch. Bland, unthreatening and largely pointless, like the human version of a sugared almond, they spend their entire lives empathising with overweight women and soap opera stars from the safety of a chenile couch.

Occasionally, they'll remind their producers of their 'serious' journalism background, and will be thrown a conciliatory bone, such as five minutes to grill Ed Balls on educational reform. Usually, these asinine interrogations are like watching Jeremy Paxman with his hands tied behind his back and a mouth full of peanut butter.

But in the last week, a couple of these pastel people have tired of half-hearted interviews with craven book-wavers and pissed-off pensioners, and decided to bare their fangs. Their inspiration? Queen of the Divas, Mariah Carey.

First up was Philip Schofield, a man so soft and cuddly he comes with a tog rating. Poor old Phil grew tired of waiting for Mariah to show up for the pre-recording of her interview with This Morning, and took to Twitter to vent his frustration. In a series of whinging updates he complained about delays caused by Mariah's late arrival and indecision about what outfit to wear, before poking fun at the size of her entourage.

Although Phil probably felt that he was playing the role of acerbic social commentator, he really just ended up sounding like a yokel describing his first (and only) encounter with showbiz royalty. Presumably This Morning's usual calibre of guest would arrive in a minicab and eat a Boots Shapers sandwich whilst applying their own make-up.

This week, it was GMTV presenter Kate Garraway's turn to take a pop at La Carey, with another tedious tale of Mariah's high maintenance lifestyle. Breathlessly recounting the mesmerising details, Garraway claims "I've heard a lot of rumours about her being a diva over the years and guess what? It turns out it's all true! While Mariah was very nice, the amount of people she had in her entourage was hilarious."

Directly contradicting her promise of 'hilarity' Kate's exasperating expose amounts to little more than the fact that Mariah's image is extremely well managed. Her stylists ensured that her dress wasn't crushed when she sat down, others made sure she was filmed from the right angle, and here's the doozy - she brought her own toilet paper. If I was a multi-millionaire, I'd make sure that certain basic home comforts were always taken care of. And let's face it, there's no way Mariah would take any chances with low-fi loo roll tarnishing the plushness of her pudenda. 

Interestingly, Kate wasn't even present when the 'hilarious' japes took place, she just picked up the crew's gossip when she clocked in later. Which makes her attempt at creating a showbiz exclusive even more lazily inappropriate. Of course, reports of Mariah's diva-esque demands are plentiful, but there's something particularly redundant about these toothless wonders sharpening their gums and going after such an easy target. Especially when both of them have to grudgingly acknowledge the fact that Mariah was both pleasant and personable. 

Mariah says "I'll Be There"

The Daily Mail today announced that Mariah Carey has had her slot filled by the Jersey Boys. As unappealing a prospect as that may sound, fear not - there's no sex tape on the horizon for Mimi. That's Jennifer Lopez's nightmare instead. 

The Mail was, in fact, referring to Mariah's 'unprofessional' decision to pull out of an appearance on this Saturday's Strictly Come Dancing, leaving the BBC scrambling to find a last-minute replacement.


Now it seems as though the long-simmering rivalry between the two Saturday evening juggernauts is threatening to boil over into all out war. According to the tabloids, the owner of the least-appealing chest in pop, had pencilled in an appearance on the sequins-and-slap kitch-fest, only for Simon to entice her back to the X-Factor instead. 

Although it can't have been too hard a decision, given the choice between an awkward chat with Dermot, or standing around as Bruce Forsyth tries to retell a joke he first made 67 years ago.

Actually, "entice" is probably the wrong word, since reports suggest that Cowell told Mariah's management that he wouldn't stand for her appearing on both networks. His petulant ultimatum paid off, so now X-Factor viewers will need to reach for the mute button on Sunday night, or risk losing half their glassware and their dogs' sanity.

Mariah has already recorded her performance of ' I Want To Know What Love Is' (yes, that one) - after spending several hours arguing over the kind of car in which she wanted to be transported to the studio. She wanted a Rolls-Royce Phantom with stencilled butterflies on the windows, as you do. Because Mariah is used to getting what she wants, much like Simon himself.

But not everyone is so keen to accept one of Simon's double-edged invitations. Having slated the X-Factor as "appalling" and nothing more than "televised karaoke" (inarguable logic if you ask me), Sting found himself on the receiving end of a loaded invitation to come on the show and "impart his knowledge". Which is a little like a restaurant giving someone food poisoning then apologising with a voucher for a free meal on their next visit. 

Unsurprisingly Sting has RSVP'ed in the negative through his spokeswoman Regine Moylett, who told the Daily Star that "Sting has probably said everything he wants to say about The X-Factor." Sadly, the same can't be said for the rest of the media, as this report (featuring a quote from yours truly) clearly shows. Still, at least this means we'll be spared Jedward's inevitable fusion of 'Every breath you take' and 'I'll be missing you'. 

Leona gets the upper hand

Ever since she first appeared on The X-Factor, Leona Lewis has been unfavourably compared to Mariah Carey - the reigning queen of the mellifluous mega-ballad. As well as having a similar appearance (sufficient for early tabloid coverage to refer to her as a Mariah-lookalike), Leona's way with a warble suggested that she was keen to follow in Carey's stilettoed footsteps.

But it wasn't just the papers that seized on the comparison, other performers also saw a similarity that compelled them to speak out. Demonstrating a crushing lack of self-awareness, short-term starlet Jamelia was quick to condemn the Hackney princess as "a poor man's Mariah Carey. Leona may be talented, but she's not worked as hard as me or others in the industry - fact!"

When Leona's debut album was released, the comparisons continued, especially since the CD seemed to have been carefully compiled to match Mariah's mid-nineties output, from the sappy, inspirational ballads to the mid-tempo R&B tremblers. Through it all, Leona changed keys more times than an amnesiac locksmith and showcased her world-class pipes to international acclaim.

Her success didn't go unnoticed by the octave bothering uber-diva either, although 'Mimi' was less than delighted with the prospect of competition. Showing all the kindness and compassion of Myra Hindley with a migraine, Mariah loftily claimed "I only heard her once and I didn't really hear a true similarity, particularly in the style of music. It is what it is and critics have compared me to so many people who are not really singers, and they're certainly not writers."

Interestingly, in the last two years, Leona has proved herself as more than just a pretender to the chaise-longue. And although Mariah still rules the roost in terms of sales, Leona is snapping at her mule-clad heels, not least in terms of vocal dexterity.

Whilst Leona could still score a number one by singing the Scottish Premier League scores, Mariah's live performances sound like she's just received an emergency tracheotomy involving a stanley knife and a biro. Her recent appearance on Good Morning America saw her making sounds that would normally be associated with a demonic possession - that famous five-octave voice reduced to a scratchy, screeching air raid siren.

But this week, the Godzilla vs Mothra-style battle of the balladeers took a couple of unexpected turns, as the two titanic talents had very different brushes with their fans.

At a Las Vegas concert, Mariah played the role of matchmaker by inviting two gay fans up on stage so that one could propose to the other. Not only did Mariah interrupt the performance to show her support, she even knocked back the celebratory glass of champagne, without needing an underling to position a drinking straw in her mouth.

Meanwhile, here in London, poor Leona had a rather less auspicious brush with the great unwashed. At a book-signing to promote her new autobiography 'Dreams', Leona was punched in the face by a man who had patiently queued to have his copy autographed. According to eye-witnesses, the unprovoked attack saw Leona rushing from the Piccadilly branch of Waterstones in tears. Shortly after, a scheduled appearance on The One Show was cancelled.

This cruel and unprovoked attack must have come as quite a shock for mild-mannered Leona - especially since she has carefully constructed a persona that's about as controversial (and interesting) as Ryvita. But maybe there's a silver lining to go with the bruised skin here - one that will see her finally assume her rightful place alongside the 'Imperfect Angel' herself.

Perhaps this altercation will give her the impetus she needs to start distancing herself from reality, and acting like the diva she has always had the potential to be. After all, if Mariah can learn to be gracious and considerate, maybe Leona can forget.

It's not right, but it's OK

Great news for fans of throaty, ballad-bothering divas - the queen is back and she's sounding... well, she's sounding a bit average actually. Whitney Houston, believed by many (including American Psycho Patrick Bateman) to be one of the finest singers of her generation, has finally got her life back on track and is ready to reclaim her rightful place at the top of the charts.

Unlike most model-turned-singers (Naomi Campbell for instance) Whitney exploded onto the music scene with a 13-times platinum album and three Grammy nominations. More importantly, she had a voice that could cause tectonic plates to shift involuntarily. By the time her follow-up album emerged, she was the most recognisable African-American face on MTV (Michael Jackson doesn't count, since his face wasn't recognisably African-American).

Not everyone was happy about Whitney's cross-over appeal, with some black critics suggesting that she was selling out her soul and gospel roots with generic radio-friendly pop. Whitney disagreed though, stating "if you're gonna have a long career, there's a certain way to do it, and I did it that way. I'm not ashamed of it."

The hits kept on coming, and in 1992 Whitney proved that she was more than just a set of industrial bellows with a voicebox attached. She appeared opposite Kevin Costner in The Bodyguard and managed to turn in a reasonably competent performance as a chart-topping singer/actress - clearly a dramatic stretch. However, exploding speedboats and Gary Kemp aside, the real legacy left by the movie was a cover version of Dolly Parton's classic 'I Will Always Love You'. Here, Whitney took a gentle ode to an unsustainable friendship, and turned it into a gut-wrenching, ear-hammering love song that lasted longer at number one than some artists' entire careers.

And that's when it all went a bit crack-pipe shaped. Whitney's marriage to Bobby Brown became a drug-addled nightmare of rumoured domestic abuse, parental interventions, and the dirtiest bathroom outside of Trainspotting.


Aside from a lazily produced album in 2002 that felt so rushed it could have been recorded in real time, Whitney disappeared off the radar. In the meantime, her record label churned out a never-ending supply of compilations to keep fans satiated and remind them that she was still around.

Finally, in 2008, a new track leaked to YouTube. Called 'Like I Never Left', the song was rumoured to be the result of new studio sessions for a freshly divorced, detoxed and made-over Whitney who was ready for a proper comeback. Cleverly acknowledging her diminished profile in recent years, the song claimed that Whitney had always been around, and was ready to pick up where she left off. Photos also emerged of a clearly rejuvenated Houston that thankfully eradicated the memories of her painfully thin and sweaty appearances in 2001.

So now, here we are on the eve of Whitney's first new material in seven years. Early reviews are in, and they're looking pretty good. Although everyone's going out of their way to apologise for the lack of guts and throaty gravel in her once-signature sound. Yesterday, Whitney also gave an exclusive 'comeback concert' broadcast on Good Morning America, and fans were dismayed to discover that the voice isn't what it once was. According to reports, she struggled to hit the notes and at times had to call upon the enthusiastic crowd to fill in the gaps.

Sadly, this is what happens to big voices as they get older. Mariah Carey's voice seems to have broken into two pieces, making her high notes sound as though she's swallowed a dog whistle. And Whitney's aunt Dionne Warwick now just talks through her biggest hits rather than try and sing them.

There's a silver lining here though. As young wannabe singers line up to audition on shows like The X-Factor and American Idol, they'll continue to tackle the songs made famous by the big-voiced divas, and come off worse for the comparison. But at least now they can take solace in the fact that there is a gap in the market. It's one Leona Lewis, and more recently Alexandra Burke, have capitalised on. Whitney may not be the one to beat anymore, but surely her legacy is sufficient enough to ensure pop immortality.

The meaning of Diva

VH1 has announced that it's going to be interrupting its highbrow programming (including 'Charm School with Ricki Lake' and 'Megan Wants a Millionaire') to bring back an old favourite. After a four year absence, we can finally start looking forward to the 2009 edition of VH1 Divas.

Airing back in 1998, the first VH1 Divas concert was staged to help raise money for the channel's "Save The Music Foundation". Despite the impressive names in the line-up, most people actually tuned in to see how any venue could possibly house the titanic egos of some of music's biggest names. Sharing a stage (but presumably not a dressing room) were Shania Twain, Celine Dion, Gloria Estefan, Carole King, Aretha Franklin and Mariah Carey.

Particular attention was paid to Carey, who has a well-documented reputation for diva-like behaviour, and Franklin - the biggest diva of them all (in circumference as well as talent). Thankfully, the only histrionics on the night were the vocal kind, and VH1 were sufficiently happy to make the event an annual one.

Over the years the show played host to the biggest female names in music, including Patti LaBelle, Tina Turner, Whitney Houston, Diana Ross, Cher, Mary J. Blige, Donna Summer, and (weirdly) Elton John. At the time people questioned Elton's eligibility, only to be reminded that, in contemporary terms at least, he was the quintessential diva - a vast talent dwarfed by shrieking demands and a complete absence of humility.

Now with the concept being dragged out of early retirement, the carefully tweezed eyebrows of the entertainment business are being raised once again. But this time it's not the gender of the acts that are causing consternation, more the status. So far, only four stars have been named, with Kelly Clarkson considered the veteran of the group that also includes Leona Lewis, Adele and Miley Cyrus.

Given that Adele and Leona only really found fame in the last 18 months, and Miley has yet to graduate beyond the Disney channel (come to think of it, she hasn't even graduated high school), it's hard not to feel that the true diva is a dying breed. Being a great singer is one thing, but the appeal of the diva lies is to be found in the inaccessible prima donna, not the quality of the live vocal. Grace Jones is a diva, even though her voice sounds like the belch of dishwater disappearing down the drain.

As great as I'm sure their performances will be, I can't help but feel a little underwhelmed by the idea of an all-star show where the talent just gushes about "How amazing it is to be here". The show's called Divas, so we want people who refuse to leave their dressing room until there are enough humidifiers to create a thundercloud. Still, they've got a couple of months to turn into monsters. My money's on Leona.

Pity the pretty

Jessica Biel, star of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Blade Trinity and I Now Pronounce You Chuck & Larry, has spoken out this week about the prejudice that has blighted her career. Turns out, she's just too damn hot.

Justin Timberlake's current squeeze has been talking to Allure magazine about the great roles that pass her by because of the way she looks. Apparently she years for the kind of roles that go to notable fuglies such as Scarlett Johansson and Natalie Portman.

Jessica's more than happy to put the work in, but what really bothers her is that some casting directors won't even see her for some roles. The fact is, it's all a little bit like the chicken and egg. Beautiful people want to be taken seriously, but that can't happen until they're seen as something other than beautiful. Just ask Charlize Theron or Nicole Kidman, who had to beat themselves with the ugly stick until Oscar finally sat up and took notice. Even Mariah Carey has recognised the value of boilerdom in getting a half decent role - she even managed to score some half-decent reviews in Cannes for her performance in Precious.

So spare a thought for poor, achingly gorgeous Jessica and hope that some visionary casting associate will look past the long legs, killer rack and perfect teeth and see the murderous lesbian, suicidally-tortured novelist or down-at-heel social worker that could be lurking just beneath that flawless skin.