I Dreamed Of Basinger!

Nothing makes me more excited than to announce ... the return of Kim Basinger! This scion of scandal has been delighting and horrifying us for almost twenty years, from truly horrendous performances ("Batman") and attire (remember her asymmetrical dress-shirt gown?) to absurd misfortunes (that whole "Boxing Helena" fiasco) and sudden turnarounds in quality (her mature turn in "L.A. Confidential"). She's been noticeably absent for the past couple of years, however, thanks in part to a beleaguering on-location shoot for her latest film, "I Dreamed Of Africa," which is finally being released next week. And, with a new film comes some new scandals!

At the premiere of the film last week, Kimmy and her husband, Alec Baldwin, seemed noticeably stressed with each other; Al split to the other side of the room the moment photographers aimed their cameras elsewhere. The couple has been notorious for their "explosive shouting matches," but will this alleged bickering eventually break up their marathon (by Hollywood standards) seven year marriage? Not according to Alec, who's been accusing jaded media sources of finding things wrong with their marriage that aren't there. In fact, in Al's favor is that the fact that he spent four months in Africa while his wife worked. (Think about it: for four months, our country only had THREE Baldwin brothers.)

The somewhat-loving couple resided on a 25,000 acre game preserve in KwaZulu-Natal, where Alec flashed his piercing blue eyes to herds of zebras and emus while Kim treated the inhabitants of this balmy savanna to some old-fashioned, out-of-place Hollywood glamour (and some old-fashioned, very in-place temper tantrums, it seems). Kim, famously known for demanding Evian water several years ago on a film set so she could wash her hair, apparently became unfastened when she discovered her exotic bungalow had no running water. "My wife would wake up crying at 5 a.m. because she couldn't take a shower," Al says in the Daily News. Her delicately unshowered skin faced further affront when the duo discovered that the only restaurant and lounge was miles away, in the small hotel that the rest of the film crew was housed in! In order to eat, they had to hang out with gaffers and best boys!

Yet sources at the "I Dreamed Of Africa" post-premiere party at Tavern On The Green said that those months of unkempt, unfed African experiences left not a mark on her beauty. Gorgeous as ever, they claim. Others at the party who congratulated the blonde beauty were Regis and Joy Philbin, Ivana Trump, Donald Trump (on the other side of the room from Ivana), and Jane Seymour, medicine woman.

Interestingly, Kim's character in the film is named Kuki. I've always called her that!

Snake Eyes

Proper shower fixtures, nearby eating establishments and lack of malaria-carrying insects were obviously not enough to keep the marriage of Nicolas Cage and Patricia Arquette from cracking up, but the pair are bravely attempting a reconciliation (despite reports that they still loathe each other). Patty reportedly wants another child and Nick, that old romantic, fears that divorcing Rosanna's sister would drain his financial coffers of all those undeserved $20 million paychecks. Apparently, they're not working too hard on Patty's goal: Nick was seen last week in L.A. at the Universal CityWalk playing virtual car-racing video games. If Patty's looking to get preggers, we all know whom she should call ...

Papa Don't Preach

What secrets are held in the Easy-Bake Oven known as Madonna's womb? Apparently, the British tabloids believed they had direct link to the Maddie's pregnant spaces when they announced last week that the sex of her babe was male and that she planned to marry British hottie Guy Ritchie because of it.

While Ms. Ciccone's sexual adventures could maintain an entire news bureau, this sudden revelation -- supposedly the result of reporters getting a hold of a stray ultrasound -- seems a bit, um, premature. And apparently Maddie agrees, as she held a press conference of her own last week, claiming that the British sleaze rags made up the information and "falsely attributed" quotes to her. She claims that the sex of the wee fetus is unknown and that she has no plans to marry Guy. (Let's all remember this in three months when -- surprise! --she officially verifies all this information.)

Madonna's statements, made through her publicity machine, were rather curt, especially considering she's usually terribly open about matters about which we don't really care anyway. It's a little late in Ms. M's career to start requesting some courtesy from the press, however, and I'm afraid that she'll have to get used to dealing with the prying claws of sleazy gossip hounds (like myself) for her entire pregnancy. Let's face it: ten years ago, she'd be putting her ultrasounds on album covers!

I do know, however, that she'll be putting her voice on Elton John's answering machine, as the flamboyant pop star won such an honor for $8,000 at a celebrity auction held last week for the Rainbow Foundation. "Hi, this is Madonna, you've reached Elton John's house. He's off worshipping me right now but if you'd like to leave a message, he won't call you back."

Easter Bebe

Certainly the most peculiar couple on the New York landscape is former Clinton crony George Stephanopoulos and "Cheers" star-turned-Broadway uberdiva Bebe Neuwirth, and things certainly don't seem to be quieting down between the two. In fact, sightings about town of the mismatched duo have been reported everywhere, though one place they haven't put in an appearance is the homey abode of George's parents, the Rev. and Mrs. Robert Stephanopoulos. The New York Daily News reports that Georgie didn't invite his leggy companion to Easter dinner, one of the most sacred events for the highly Greek Orthodox family. This doesn't mean the two are on the outs, however; close friends say he's never invited girls over to meet the fam on the traditional holiday. Then again, if his blood ties are as big freaks as mine are on special occasions, he probably kept Bebe away on purpose. When glamorous divas meet embarrassing aunts, you know nothing good can come of it.

Seen!

--My experiences with the westside New York club Exit have been nothing but horror stories! Overcrowded, unsophisticated, and no free drink tickets for VIPs! It's like Vietnam! I would have braved it last week, however, just to see the turnout displayed at the album release party for R&B hottie, Joe. Braving the silly, gold-lame'd crowds were no less than Brandy, Queen Latifah, Aaliyah, Foxy Brown (who shows up to the sound of a champagne cork these days), and MTV's Ananda Lewis. With all these gorgeous gals milling about with cheap drinks, who could pay attention to just one? Joe had no problem it seems; he left his own party with BET hostess Liza Michelle, looking very cozy.

--Foxy's not the only one abusing the champagne circuit it seems. Illegally hot Vince Vaughn was downing the bubbly further downtown at Club 357, and he was swingin' it with a familiar face: his old "Swingers" pal Jon Favreau.

--Maybe it's my allergies, but I've personally been having a star-sighting dry spell. I used to routinely stumble onto stars strewn throughout the city; now I can barely muster a brief glimpse of Ned Beatty! Luckily, my spies have better luck, like the one dispatched to Float, where my clandestine observer noticed foppishly beautiful Jude Law lounging about, his wife Sadie Frost nowhere in sight. Come to papa!

--"Sopranos" costar Jamie-Lynn Sigler had four extra reasons (named Nick, Kevin, Howie and A.J.) to stick around the VIP room at OHM last week. That's right, Backstreet's back and they're hitting the lounge circuit. But where was the fifth Boy, Brian, you ask? Well, despite what you're all guessing, no, HE WAS NOT WITH ME.

--Rupert Everett, you lush! (Isn't that the pot calling the kettle off-white?) In between tripping over Barry Diller and David Geffen, patrons of last Tuesday's Beige party could observe old Rupe working his drink tickets at the bar, forgetting conveniently to leave a tip. When confronted by the bartender -- who shouldn't be confronting anyone for tips, now should he? -- the dashing pal of Lourdes' mommy produced a $20 and probably a stern, cold look of over-it-ness.

--Leonardo DiCaprio, taking a break from single-handedly cleaning up our fragile planet, toasted model James King on his 21st birthday last week at Saci, while John Singleton, Omar Epps (racking up extremely good notices for "Love And Basketball"), Li'l Kim, LL Cool J, Jennifer Esposito and the champagne-satiated Vaughn lounged about at the Carl Thomas party in the same space.

Say Anything!!

My G-Spot tribute to John Cusack is in two weeks, so darlings, if you have any recollections, experiences, or traumas related to the actor, please e-mail them to me at gregoiregs@aol.com by this Thursday!

You've read the mainstream press' bland Summer Movie Previews, but come back here next week for Gregoire's Sizzling Summer Preview, where I focus on the things that truly matter, like my list of this summer's most absurd premises, more Angelina Jolie trashing, and an examination of the legs of Russell Crowe! And the most burning question of them all: in the tradition of "Star Wars: The Phantom Menace," what film will be the highest box office grosser of the summer and, simultaneously, the biggest piece of crap? (Hint: "X" marks the spot.)

Until Kim Basinger dreams of "Africa" (as in the classic Toto song),

Gregoire

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