He’s annoyed them before. A couple of years ago and an inane conversation, I think, about breakfast. Since then the Brange has not been a fan of Ryan Seacrest. Last night they didn’t even bother to hide it. It was live television at its best.

So Seacrest’s people had been begging the Brange flacks for an interview. They refused. In an act of desperation, Seacrest flies off his podium to make the request in person. Their response: beat it you little bitch.

Both turned their backs, some say they were smirking, and left Ryan gaping with his hair gel between his legs, forced to make some kind of lame excuse about them rushing to get to the auditorium?

Is that why they stopped for Billy Bush?


Angelina’s waxy skin was turned down last night, non? Much better. Today is a no Botox day for me. Must be the mineral makeup? But, sigh, there was no Bitch Face. Was hoping for some repeat of the Bitch Face but for the most part she kept it tucked in. I mean, this is what we want, right? A return to the Jolie we love best. The badass. The ass kicker. The attitude.

Enough of the earth mother sing-a-long! Enough saving of the children! Enough essays in The Economist! We miss the hardcore Angelina. Where are you?

Hopefully she’s on her way back. There were glimpses of her at the Globes. A look of impatience here and there. She cut her eye once or twice at someone, hopefully Anne Hathaway, but it was nothing like how she murdered her last week. And to balance it out, she smiled a lot. Especially for Brad’s movies. Boo. Too much smiling, not enough snarling. And not enough Pitt Porn either. At least not on tv.

Am told there was all kindsa leg stroking again last night. And kissing. And neck rubbing. And at one point she was lounging back in her chair with her arms thrown back all come hither sex me now and he was staring at her uncomfortably (for their table mates) for a long while. But only during restricted photographer moments. This must be why he had no idea what was happening on stage. At one point the camera caught him asking her: what was that (award) for?

On the carpet of course the two were ridiculously gorgeous and ridiculously mesmerising. The usual: the press lost it, the fans lost it, some of the other celebrities lost it. You hate it but you know it: when they’re around there is no one else.

In what appears to be a losing campaign – because Benjamin Button is getting its ass owned by Slumdog! – Brad is looking more handsome than he has in a long time. Angie meanwhile was softer, always otherworldly beautiful, with her hair down, in a silver, entirely unremarkable and shapeless Versace dress.

Like, we get it. You don’t have to ever wear a dress. Not with that face. But for once would it kill you to try?

Next up: Brange at the SAGs. January 31st. And what will happen on Oscar nomination day?

Photos from Wenn.com