Aussie American Idol singer dies aged 35


Michael Johns, the Perth-born singer who charmed tens of millions of viewers on hit US TV show American Idol, has reportedly died. He was 35.

The charismatic performer is believed to have died from a blood clot in his ankle, according to The Hollywood Reporter.

“It is with a heavy heart and inconsolable sadness that we confirm the passing of our friend Michael Johns,” the administrator of his website tweeted on Saturday.

Johns impressed the notoriously tough English judge Simon Cowell when he appeared as a contestant on the top-rating show in 2008.

Johns made it to the finals, finishing eighth, despite controversy.

Friends and fans have shared their condolences on social media, all expressing shock at the sudden death of Johns.

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– Sydney Morning Herald

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Duchess of Cambridge gets tips from Posh


Britain’s Duchess of Cambridge is thought to have turned to Victoria Beckham for tips on raising her son.

The 32-year-old royal and her husband Price William recently celebrated the first birthday of their son Prince George with a fun party.

As the tot gets older, Catherine – known as Kate Middleton prior to her nuptials – is said to be relying on former Spice Girl Beckham for parenting advice as she is a mother to three sons and a daughter herself.

The Duke of Cambridge is close pals with the fashion designer’s soccer star husband David Beckham, which means the wives have also reportedly formed a friendship.

“Victoria’s three boys are so well-behaved and comfortable in the spotlight that it’s clear she’s done an amazing job raising them,” a source told British magazine Look.

“No doubt Kate’s asking for tips on discipline and potty training already!”

The former pop star is also said to be urging Kate to expand her family so George has a sibling or two while growing up.

In return, Beckham is reportedly pleased to have the company since moving back to London from LA, where she and her family lived during her husband’s time playing for soccer team LA Galaxy.

“Leaving LA meant losing celeb pals such as Eva Longoria, but it seems Victoria’s hit it off with Kate, and it wouldn’t surprise me if they email and text all the time,” the insider added.

“I think Kate must really respect how Posh is a self-made woman, and Victoria can help her deal with living in the public eye.

“The couples are growing ever closer, which could lead to a joint outing.

“Kate and Victoria get along so well, they could well be planning double dates with the hubbies,” the source said.

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Freddie Mercury’s phantom


How strange to be Adam Lambert. Here he is, a global pop star in his own right, now touring the world playing understudy to a ghost.

In 2009, Lambert was runner-up on American Idol. He has since topped the US singles charts, and made two albums that sold a couple of million copies. His solo career has taken root in unexpected places: in 2012, he was the only Westerner invited to sing on China’s most popular TV show, his performance beamed out to 520 million viewers. But for the past few years, he has become best known for slipping into a dead man’s leather pants and heading out on the road as frontman with Queen.

In many ways, it makes perfect sense. As a flamboyant gay man with abundant charm, a killer voice and a penchant for glam theatrics, he is three-quarters of the way there. But he is not Freddie Mercury.

“No, that’s true,” agrees Lambert, who is backstage in a Toronto dressing room getting ready for a sold-out Queen show.

“I was extremely apprehensive the first few times I fronted this band, because I was so intimidated by their legacy. Freddie Mercury was such an iconic vocalist, a once in a lifetime star, and their songs are fabulous. Plus you’ve got Brian [May] on guitar and Roger [Taylor] on drums, who are such great players. But they made me feel comfortable, and we have fun. Playing with these guys is an amazing adventure. It’s making me a better live performer, and it also makes me think about what kind of artist I could be.”

Is he the champion, my friends Will he, will he rock us Scaramouche, Scaramouche, can he do the fandango We will soon see, as Lambert fronts Queen when they perform here in early September, their first tour to New Zealand since 1985.

How did he land the gig “When I did the American Idol finale, Queen were invited to perform with me because I had sung Bohemian Rhapsody in my initial audition. It felt like a really nice, natural connection, so we kept in touch, then I did the MTV Awards and some stadium shows with them two years ago in Europe, including the Hammersmith Apollo, which was an old stomping ground of theirs. We had a lot of fun and wanted to do it again, so here we are, on our most extensive tour yet.”

The reviews so far have been excellent, with Lambert praised for “revitalising the franchise”, putting his own spin on the songs while channelling the energy and arch wit of the dearly departed Mercury.

A trawl around the net uncovers splendid live photos of the hungry young pretender in his pomp at 32, strutting around enormous arenas, reclining on a purple velvet chaise lounge wearing a glittering crown, striking all the right triumphant poses, cutting a lithe and youthful figure alongside original guitarist May, now 67, with his alarming afro of luxuriant grey curls.

Behind them, Taylor, 65, complements the frontline’s aural assault with his bombastic battery, thundering away at the drums, his 23-year-old son, Rufus Tiger Taylor, playing back-up on a second drumkit at his side. Former bassist John Deacon, meanwhile, retired in 1997, and is presumably ambling around one of his stately homes somewhere while replacement Neil Fairclough does the business in his stead.

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In the course of the show, Lambert rattles through half a dozen costume changes, the leather, lycra and leopard-print creations modelled on classic Freddie fashions of their day. On a good night through a monster PA, with more lights on show than many Third World cities and those familiar anthems belting out one after another, I imagine the effect would be spectacular, especially when viewed through aging eyes misty with nostalgia.

But it must be a tough gig, analogous, perhaps, to the tours undertaken by The Doors or INXS once their defining frontmen lay indisposed beneath six feet of cold clay. Not everyone approves. Some fans remain outraged that May and Taylor continue to perform under the Queen banner minus Mercury, and the duo was much maligned after previous tours fronted by former Bad Company singer, Paul Rodgers. Which presumably puts a lot of pressure on Lambert.

How does he stop the current tour coming across as an elaborately staged karaoke cash-in

“Has Freddie Mercury left me big shoes to fill Of course. That’s why I have such fabulous shoes on tour. You should see my f…..’ heels! But fortunately, Freddie and I have some things in common. We’re both big, loud singers, but our voices are different, so finding my own voice within the songs has been an interesting challenge. It’s important to put my own stamp on them without straying too far from the originals. The key

is to be mindful of the original intention of the songs. What is the emotional core of this song What feeling is it trying to generate in the listener I try to focus on that.”

Certainly, Lambert is one of few contemporary male singers who could convincingly match Mercury vocally. Born in Indiana, raised in California, he has a truly staggering vocal range, leaping the octaves with little loss of power and hitting notes above High C. Fellow rock screamer Meat Loaf even claimed in a 2012 interview that only two other popular singers had a voice to equal Lambert’s: Aretha Franklin and Whitney Houston.

He grew up doing a lot of musical theatre, he says, and was only nine when Mercury died of an Aids-related illness in 1991. “When I was a kid, I didn’t listen to a lot of rock music. But I started falling in love with rock’n’roll in my early 20s, and when I got into the Queen back catalogue, it struck me how unique they were. What sets them apart from a lot of other iconic bands is their diversity. There are funk songs, some heavy blues-rock, catchy pop tunes, theatrical glam-rock songs, baroque operetta pieces – they really pushed the envelope musically.”

They also, lest we forget, challenged a few gender stereotypes along the way, and I don’t just mean that spendid video for I Want To Break Free where Mercury does the hoovering in a frock. During the 70s, coded band-name aside, Queen was just another band with a closeted singer who believed his sexual orientation might be poison to record buyers.

But during the 80s, with the encouragement of his straight bandmates, Mercury was more open about his homosexuality, and Queen helped gay culture gatecrash the mainstream pop world. As one of America’s few openly gay pop stars, does Lambert appreciate the band’s politics as well as its music

“I do. But the funny thing about the gay connection with Freddie is that, despite the fact that there are a lot of veiled references to his sexuality in his lyrics, most people totally missed that at the time. The only thing that was blatantly connected to the gay community was some of the fashion he put forward, like the black leather biker hat and sunglasses and moustache, which was a key look in the early 80s gay scene in New York. But a lot of the stuff he was doing in the 70s wasn’t considered gay, because glam rock already played with a lot of gender conventions. People like David Bowie, Lou Reed and Marc Bolan all tried to look androgynous, whether they were gay or not. For most of them, it was just a look.”

What he really did appreciate, says Lambert, was Mercury’s ability to go “way over the top” without alienating his audience.

“Sometimes the idea of camp confuses people in today’s media. They don’t always get the fact that melodrama can be fabulously entertaining. But I really love performers that go down that road, and go there with conviction. Freddie was a master of that. Sadly, a lot of contemporary rock bands have lost that knack, though that theatricality still lives on with a lot of modern female performers. The costume changes, the dancers, the elaborate themed staging – that’s what modern pop music is about, and Queen helped create the environment for that.”

Lambert needs to go. He’s on stage in less than an hour, and he has some tight leathers to wriggle into. After 30 minutes in his calm and thoughtful company, I am a good deal less cynical about his decision to ascend, for a short time at least, to the throne.

After all, you have to admire a person who takes on a controversial commission like this and plays it to the hilt without irony. Lambert seems to have wholeheartedly embraced his role as a latter-day Mercury surrogate, not attempting to directly copy the man so much as using his powerhouse voice to celebrate an inspirational showman’s life.

There’s even a posthumous duet of sorts; at one point in the show, Lambert trades verses with video footage of Mercury singing Bohemian Rhapsody live at Wembley Stadium during the 1980s.

“I tell you, New Zealand is in for a treat. The tour so far has been a blast, with audiences going absolutely crazy. Yes, there’s a huge sense of nostalgia for people, but that’s fine by me. The idea of this tour, really, is to remind the audience of this band’s legacy. Even though I’m a new singer for them, we didn’t want to make a new version of Queen; we wanted to remind people what was so great about them in the first place.”

Queen + Adam Lambert Auckland’s Vector Arena on September 3 and 4. ticketmaster.co.nz or daintygroup.com.

– Sunday Star Times

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Soundtrack to my life: Karl Kippenberger


Karl Kippenberger is bass guitarist with Wellington hard rock band, Shihad, now based in Melbourne.

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Peter Stichbury is painting perfect


“They’re wax,” says the artist, pointing to the perfectly round, perfectly iced, perfectly cocoa-sprinkled chocolate cookies cooling in neat rows on the baking tray in the nothing-out-of-place kitchen.

They’re not wax. They’re delicious. But they are also strangely Stichbury. Like the Siamese cat that sits like an installation in the gap above the hot water cylinder, the living room walls with only a large Jae Hoon Lee photograph and a set of animal horns, there’s a particular aesthetic at work in this home.

Peter Stichbury made his name painting perfect. “Faces of nearly oppressive flawlessness,” recorded Justin Paton, arts writer extraordinaire. “They all have hair like sable, clear veinless eyes and skin that doesn’t sweat.”

Back in 1997, as an Elam School of Fine arts graduate, Stichbury won the James Wallace Art Award. His first dealer show reportedly sold out on opening night. He is represented in New York and last week, as he prepared for his first local solo exhibition in seven years, one art auction house was listing his work at $30,000-$40,000.

Actor Anna Paquin and singer Natalie Imbruglia featured in his collections of beautiful people. Later models were composites of beauty. Then the cracks began to appear. Sticking plasters. Bad skin. A blackened eye.

“In the first shows I made, it was like this big subversion of beauty, and that just got really boring,” Stichbury says. “I still love the anatomy and way beautiful people look, but now I use them like a director would use them in a Hollywood film.”

A fortnight ago, in that elegantly spare Auckland living room, Stichbury revealed his newest obsession: UFOs and the associated folklore.

He’s preparing for two solo shows. Sources and Methods opens at Auckland’s Michael Lett Gallery on Thursday. Stichbury says it’s “hopefully” the drawn skeleton of the painted version that will show at New York gallery Tracey Williams Ltd.

“I’ve been making them concurrently. I want to participate with what’s going on here. There are so many amazing New Zealand artists, and I want to be in that mix.”

He’s still, mostly, focusing on the portrait. New subjects include Thomas F Mantell – an American pilot who died in 1948, while chasing a UFO. And Frederick Valentich, who disappeared in 1978, while flying a Cessna over Australia’s Bass Strait.

“The drawings are basically really interesting UFO witnesses.” As a 7-year-old, growing up in Wellington, Stichbury saw a UFO. “A huge, white object in the sky and we followed it up the road and it went behind a small hill . . . I’d go to school and draw it on my pencil case or whatever.”

Today, he believes he saw a weather balloon. “I was totally disappointed!”

Stichbury knows he is “the guy who paints faces” but says, with each series of work, there is a slight shift. This time, he’s also replicating American government agency conspiracy-themed logos.

“I thought, this year, it would be a good idea to really start to move things in some sideways directions and do things that people wouldn’t necessarily associate with a style of work, because I think style can be a real trap.

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“I think as you grow older you realise you don’t have to be this particular person, ‘Peter Stichbury’. You can smash it down and rebuild it. That’s fine.”

Because what he really wants to do, he says, is to become a better artist. “I would really like to be a great artist and I fail miserably at it. Some of the work is really successful and I can see that, and some of the work is ‘oh my God, disaster, what the f… happened” In 2001, Stichbury fell victim to Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.

Today, he says, “I pace myself, and all that stuff . . . you just find a way to weather it, cope with it, adapt and do the best you can with what you’ve got left over.” Wonder if the spare, clean space of his home life is a necessary reaction to this disease and he shoots down the pop psychology.

“I think that is, maybe, a style thing, to keep things clear when you work at home. So when you leave the cut and thrust of the studio, that’s a sort of sanctuary. You’re not polluting the rest of the house with your art!”

In the room where Stichbury makes art it is, reassuringly, kind of messy. Source material taped to the walls includes a series of photographs of Ella Yelich-O’Connor – aka singer Lorde.

“I think somebody posted a link to her Soundcloud page. I downloaded them, and thought this is strangely good . . . I said to my friend, ‘I’m going to start a record label so I can sign this girl’.”

Someone had, of course, beat him to it. So he asked if she’d pose for a painting. “I said to her when we took the photos, I’m going to do one of you, and [another] one is going to be – and I haven’t made it yet – of an alien abductee, which is more in line with the next lot of shows.”

Stichbury says he’s an artist, partly because he enjoys “making things for people”.

“Once the audience views it, hopefully some people can connect with it, enjoy it, comprehend it. You’re offering something to society that isn’t just another piece of hot trash. Another burger; another shitty car. Something that hopefully has some meaning to people.”

Sources and Methods, Michael Lett Gallery, August 7-September 6.

– Sunday Star Times

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Film review: Palo Alto


From American Graffiti to Dazed and Confused, Fast Times at Ridgemont High and Spring Breakers, stories about teenagers and their experiments with vices and struggles with families have been cinematic catnip for decades.

And as a way of graphic illustration, here is the third generation of Coppola to tackle the subject.

Yes, following in the footsteps of granddad Frances (The Outsiders) and Aunt Sofia (The Virgin Suicides), Gia Coppola’s debut film is a look at the lives of some comfortable-living, but clearly troubled teens in San Francisco’s Bay Area.

Actually, this is perhaps more James Franco’s film, given that it is based on his 2010 short-story collection and he plays a football coach who gets involved with his babysitter and budding striker April (Emma Roberts). She is also keen on stoner Fred (Nat Wolff), whose buddy Teddy (Jack Kilmer) just cannot seem to stay out of trouble with the law.

Despite clearly showing the family flair behind the camera (and an ear for a suitable soundtrack), Coppola’s sometimes rambling tale lacks a standout performance, compelling character or sense of verve to really set it apart from the crowded teen-angst movie field.

The message of the movie seems to be that the adults are just as flawed and wacky as their kids, but Palo Alto lacks the punch of say Thirteen or the grittiness of the works of Larry Clark (Kids, Bully). And in the end, it is overshadowed by Aunt Sophia’s own recent take on California teen behaving badly – the flashier, funnier, fresher The Bling Ring.

Palo Alto (Rating TBC)

100mins

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Nineties nostalgia once over lightly


OPINION:

I did not have sexual relations with that woman. I didn’t inhale. Now, where did I put my cigar

The forgetful spirit of Bill Clinton hangs heavy over the 1990s, a decade celebrated this week in a six-hour “television event” called, naturally, The 90s, broadcast across four nights on the National Geographic Channel.

The 90s. I was there. So, I imagine, were you. How much of it do you remember Like Clinton, my own memory had faded on many key points, but I was sent through advance copies of these doco shows, and memories both delightful and gruesome came flooding right back.

Pulp Fiction. Baywatch. The LAPD beating of Rodney King. Grunge, rave and gangsta rap. The O J Simpson trial. Ellen DeGeneres coming out on live TV. Assorted outbreaks of “ethnic cleansing”. The disintegration of the Soviet Union. Pablo Escobar. Mike Tyson. The Spice Girls. The rise of new digital communication technology. Di’s death in a road tunnel in Paris.

Those mad months at the tailend of the decade where pre-millenial anxiety ran rampant, with many believing the Y2K bug might destroy civilisation as we know it, causing every computer network to crash on the stroke of midnight on January 1, 2000.

All these things are recapped across four loosely-themed nights this week at 7.30pm, with each show narrated by 80s brat-packer, Rob Lowe. On Wednesday, Great Expectations sets the scene with Nelson Mandela’s release, Clinton’s inauguration, a rash of 90s music both brilliant and ridiculous, and the rise of the Interwebs.

On Thursday, Friends And Enemies examines the changing media landscape, with era-defining sitcoms, the rise of reality TV, and the transformation of real-world dramas such as the O J Simpson case, the LA riots and the first Gulf War into lurid home entertainment for popcorn-chompers slumped on their living-room La-Z-Boys.

Friday night’s Politically Incorrect examines 90s scandals involving bombs, bugs and rather a lot of clandestine rooting. And next Sunday, a show snappily entitled Tragedies rounds out the series with a cheerful rollcall of natural disasters, terrorism, murder and fashion crimes.

Oh, the humanity! Six hours of rapid-fire film clips, and interviews with 120 key players from the decade. It will be more 90s nostalgia than some delicate souls can stand. Fortunately, I can confirm that the series is both deeply evocative and accidentally hilarious.

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Although claiming to be “the defining documentary of its generation”, what we really have here is a giant steaming bowl of pop-culture soup; as one American reviewer noted, this is a show that “purees the 90s and then pours Rob Lowe on top”. Each night is a riot of ADHD editing, facile interpretation and cheesy sentiment, with cultural footnotes such as Vanilla Ice afforded the same gravity as the genocide of 800,000 people in Rwanda.

Dozens of talking heads convene to consider the period between 1990 and 1999, though most of them say things that could be said of any decade: people wanted change; there was injustice, political turmoil and spiritual confusion; technology was developing rapidly; new musical forms were on the ascendant.

We are shown old footage of Kurt Cobain, blessedly undiminished by shotgun blast, informing us that “money can’t buy happiness”. Former US Secretary Of State Colin Powell is called up, not to discuss his role during Operation Desert Storm, but to share his views on short-lived 90s dance craze, the Macarena.

Reasoned analysis is thin on the ground; historical contextualisation, cursory at best. Clearly, both clips and interviewees were primarily selected for their ability to hit your nostalgia button with a sledgehammer. None of which makes the series any less fascinating.

Ghouls and heroes, lovers and haters, blockbuster sitcoms. Like rain-dodging animals ascending Noah’s gangplank, many 90s touchstones re-emerge from your memory banks two-by-two. Kurt and Courtney. Mulder and Scully. Friends and Seinfeld. Clinton and Lewinsky. Timothy McVeigh and Osama bin Laden. Here at home, we had Jason Gunn and Thingee. It was a decade of telling dualities, of strange yins and mad yangs, or so Rob Lowe would have us believe.

N’Synch v Backstreet Boys. Christina vBritney. Biggie v Tupac. Jerry Springer v Oprah. Grunge vBritpop. It was a decade of manufactured feuds, and real ones, too, as bodies piled high in Rwanda, Somalia, Iraq, the Balkans, Oklahoma and Columbine High School.

Back here at home, we witnessed a cultural flowering of sorts, with The Piano, Once Were Warriors, Heavenly Creatures, How Bizarre. Shortland Street was also launched and curses us still.

To be honest, I was oblivious to much of it, except as background noise to a life that was at that time turbulent and hedonistic. Throughout that decade, I struggled to settle on a stable career, working as a landscape gardener, a life-drawing model, a community worker, a writer, a dance party promoter, a DJ.

I was fatter, louder, more careless and, as befitted those “fashion backward” times, extremely poorly dressed. I took more risks and told more lies, and I most certainly did not have sexual relations with that woman. But like Clinton, I came out the other side of the 90s chastened but intact.

Incidentally, Clinton was impeached by Congress in 1998 over the Monica Lewinsky affair. His response, after a laughable aquittal, was the sort of ungrammatical shrug you might expect from an archetypal 90s’ slacker: “I may not have been the greatest president but I’ve had the most fun eight years.”

A few years later, as we all slid quietly into the next millennium without Y2K-induced Armageddon, a nationwide survey of American journalists ranked the Lewinsky sex scandal as the 53rd most significant story of the preceding century. Clinton was unimpressed. His response “What’s a man gotta do to get in the top 50”.

– Sunday Star Times

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Jackson surprised by King Kong prequel


Sir Peter Jackson, who directed the 2005 King Kong remake, was caught by surprise at news a prequel to the story is being made.

Studio Legendary reportedly caused a certain amount of confusion among fans at Comic Con in San Diego last weekend with footage from the prequel, called Skull Island, which until then hardly anyone knew existed.

As Forbes tells it, Legendary showed the footage without any explanation and walked away without elaborating on what fans can expect.

The company did later tweet: “Legendary confirmed: feature film based on the famed Skull Island, the cinematic origins of another classic beast King Kong.”

When Jackson was asked about the project during an interview with Collider, he replied: “I don’t know anything about it. I’m hearing it from you, for the first time. I would look forward to it.”

There has been excitement in some quarters that Jackson appeared to want Guillermo del Toro to direct Skull Island.

But in that regard, Jackson may be the victim of a leading question. He was asked by Collider: “What do you thing about Legendary doing another King Kong with Guillermo del Toro”

“If Guillermo did King Kong, that would be great.” Jackson said. “That would be fantastic. I’ll be there on the first day, and will help him with anything he needs.”

Some commentators have suggested del Toro is in fact far too busy to make Skull Island, while there is also speculation the job of director has been offered to Englishman Joe Cornish, who is in big demand as a result of his low budget sci fi action movie Attack the Block.

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– Stuff

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Orlando Bloom: I’m everyone’s hero


Orlando Bloom says he’s being hailed for his “heroism” by Justin Bieber haters.

The British actor allegedly got into a physical altercation with the pop star at Cipriani restaurant in Ibiza early Wednesday morning.

Various media reports claimed Bloom threw a punch at Bieber during the argument.

And The Lord of The Rings star, 37, was reportedly partying with Leonardo DiCaprio at Lio Ibiza in the island’s capital after the alleged incident this week when he told UK newspaper The Mirror: “Everyone keeps telling me I’m their hero”.

The actor already appears to have shrugged off the drama, even while swathes of his fans took to Twitter to pledge their allegiance, including actress Alyssa Milano, who was among those tweeting hashtag: “#TeamBloom.”

The outlet reports Bloom ran up to DiCaprio, greeting him with a huge hug and yelling: “Aaaaaah! Maaaaate!”

The pair then reportedly sang along to Candi Staton’s 1976 single Young Hearts Run Free and partied into the night.

According to The Mirror, Bieber has meanwhile been seen out with Victoria’s Secret model Shanina Shaik, as well as pals Zac Efron and Michelle Rodriguez, who were seen soaking up sun and jet-skiing around the island with the pop star.

Reports suggest Bieber and Bloom’s alleged brawl broke out after the Baby hitmaker made a derogatory remark about the actor’s ex-wife, model Miranda Kerr, who Bieber befriended during her marriage to Bloom.

The singer appeared to respond to media scrutiny by posting a image of Kerr on Instagram, followed by a picture of Bloom looking as though he was crying. The image was later deleted from Bieber’s page.

Further rumours of a love triangle persist, with most recent reports suggesting Bloom has been seeing Aussie Erica Packer, the ex-wife of billionaire James Packer, who is reportedly dating Kerr.

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– Cover Media

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Sam Neill’s straight and narrow career


Actor Sam Neill says he’s “always been absurdly straight and narrow”.

The comment was made in response to a question about Neill’s recent work playing a police officer and a former officer in shows in Britain and Australia.

Neill plays hard nut cop Chief Inspector Chester Campbell in post-World War 1 gangster series Peaky Blinders, the second series of which is about to start in Britain.

Set in Birmingham, and compared to US series Boardwalk Empire, the British drama is named after a gang whose members used to sew razor blades into the peaks of their caps.

Neill’s character is a Northern Irishman sent to the then-industrial powerhouse by Winston Churchill to put down disorder and contain the risk of a communist uprising.

Meanwhile, in Australia, Neill has been starring in the series Old School as retired cop Ted McCabe, who ends up making common cause with retired crim Lennie Cahill, played by Bryan Brown.

Neill was asked in The Australian whether the fact he was playing the two roles meant he was hitting the straight and narrow as he matured.

“I’ve always been absurdly straight and narrow,” Neill replied.

“My friend the late, great and very gay (actor) John Hargreaves used to make a point of kissing me in public just to see me squirm.”

Neill described CI Campbell from Peaky Blinders as a beast of a man, but also sad, lonely and delusional. “Not my kind of geezer at all. But from an actor’s point of view, absolute bliss.”

He also commented that coming from the most isolated and remote corner of the world he was “hopelessly addicted to travel”, although only for work.

“My idea of the perfect holiday is to go home to my vineyards,” Neill, who owns the Two Paddocks vineyard in Central Otago, said.

Asked for his political thoughts of the moment, Neill said he was “completely baffled as to why successive governments

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