THERE MAY COME A TIME WHEN A LASS NEEDS A LAWYER: To criticize the Bolly/Hollywood film Bride & Prejudice for being inconsequential or formulaic would be entirely accurate, yet miss the point completely.

I will readily concede that the movie's plot is little more than excuse to allow us to watch beautiful people do goofy things in exotic places around the world for two hours. If you've seen any romantic comedy, ever, you will not be surprised for a moment here. But so what? Sometimes you want a stately cocktail, and some days, you want a delicious milkshake.

And, my goodness, Aishwarya Rai has a milkshake that brings the world to her yard. There is nothing I can say about her that has not been said (or that would get me into trouble with my wife), so I will leave this truth universally acknowledged at hubba, hubba. The rest of the cast is solid, with particular kudos to Nitin Ganatra's willingness to make an ass of himself as a California-based player-in-training. (Also, is Martin Henderson playing the poor man's Breckin Meyer, or the poor man's poor man's Noah Wyle?)

One final moviewatching note: in a crowded theater, we were stuck with a very loud older couple behind us, that talked nonstop for the first fifteen minutes of the movie, and not even the tradition Older People Have To Explain Things To Each Other kind of nonsense. They were talking about shopping and their friends.

Glaring at them didn't do anything. Saying "Excuse me?" or "Could you keep it down?" didn't help. Which, after a few more minutes of their obnoxious distraction, left me saying this, loudly: Could you please give me your address? I'll send you the DVD when it comes out, and then you can talk all you want.

That shut them up. Swear to God.

I AM MARK BURNETT'S BITCH: There's no other way to put it: The Contender is fantastic television, and if you're looking for early adapting, Isaac, jump on board right now.

The Contender is reality tv stripped to its essence: 16 men trying to eliminate each other the simplest way possible: beating each other up. (Which, if you saw Survivor this week, you know how much fun it is.)

All the Burnett trademarks are there -- clear structure (training/challenge/family/fight), high production values, solid challenges, great personalities in the cast, hosts that occasionally need to be overdubbed for clarity -- but what's new here is the level of family drama that's involved. When you see these guys boxing in front of their children, man, it hurts to watch.

(One minor note: so far, Jackie Callen has had as much a role as original Joe Millionaire host Alex McLeod, but that's neither here nor there.)

Stallone is as iconic as Trump, only he's willing to lend his expertise throughout the show and not just swoop in at the beginning and end. And Sugar Ray . . . that's a legend.

Yes, I'm fine with Burnett getting even richer off this. And I'll be thrilled if the show has some impact in cleaning up the sport, bringing back fans, making it a legitmate attraction again. I've spent some time at the legendary Blue Horizon and down the shore for fights with my dad, and at that level, it's a lot of fun. As the PTI guys love to point out, there used to be a time when boxing and horse racing were two of the premiere sports in this country, and I wouldn't mind at all seeing boxing make its way back to the top.

So watch this show. Because someday soon, Ahmed and Ishe are going to wail on each other, and it's going to be awesome.

edited to add: For readers interested in detailed analysis from a boxing fan as to who should win this competion, this TWoP post will be most educational.

BETTER THAN "MIND OF THE MARRIED MAN:" To be fair, I never saw Mike Binder's much-loathed HBO sitcom, but I'll trust those who loathed it. By that understanding, Binder's first film as a writer/director/actor, "The Upside of Anger" is an enormous step up. The plot makes no real sense (and ultimately depends on a third act plot twist that's borderline nonsensical), and secondary characters drift in and out, having scenes that do nothing to advance the plot or tell us about the characters (most notably, a subplot involving daughter Popeye's bungee jumping friend). The plot, such as it, revolves around a family with dour daughters that begins to break down when the father disappears one day in the fall of 2001, and their relationship with their neighbor, a retired alcoholic baseball player.

But that's not the point of the movie--the point of the movie is the performances. Although they're frequently given mediocre material to work with, the four young actresses playing the daughters (Evan Rachel Wood, Erika Christensen, Keri Russell, and Alicia Witt) all acquit themselves quite well, especially Wood and Russell (who, admittedly, have the most to work with as the narrator of the piece and the anorexic(?) ballet dancer). But the heart of the movie is the lead performances. Kevin Costner is at his best, playing a modified version of Crash Davis--if Crash had made it to the majors and then flamed out spectacularly, and now, 10 years later is looking for meaning in his life.

The really good news is that this is a role that may finally win Joan Allen an Oscar. Allen has three nominations under her belt already, having lost to Juliette Binoche, Judi Dench, and Mira Sorvino, and should've had a fourth for "Pleasantville." (Judi Dench's 8 minutes in "Shakespeare in Love" are unquestionably great, but Allen in "Pleasantville" was spectacular.) Allen is just spectacular as a woman who slides into a deep depression and anger, and spends the entire movie clawing her way out of it. Her performance alone is worth the money you'll spend seeing the movie, and I hope she's not forgotten a year from now when Oscar season comes around.

(That said, anyone who's seen the movie and can explain the ballet sequence, where a character appears to be in two places at once, can you do so?)

WELL, AT LEAST HE DIDN'T FLAUNT HIS CHAIN WALLET: As TWOP points out, last night's "Apprentice" demonstrates that "Gene Simmons is so gross." Then again, I think that was well established in this 2002 interview with Terry Gross on NPR's "Fresh Air," which infamously concluded with the following exchange:

Terry Gross: I would like to think that the personality you've presented on our show today is a persona that you've affected as a member of KISS, something you do on stage, before the microphone, but that you're not nearly as obnoxious in the privacy of your own home or when you're having dinner with friends.

Gene Simmons: Fair enough. And I'd like to think that the boring lady who's talking to me now is a lot sexier and more interesting than the one who's doing NPR. You know, studious and reserved, and -- I bet you're a lot of fun at a party.

MY BOY SAYS HE CAN EAT FIFTY EGGS, HE CAN EAT FIFTY EGGS: Or maybe he can't. Gawker reports on a Maxim editor and his intern's quest to eat 50 Cadbury eggs. I'm sick already.

BY THE DAWNZER LEE LIGHT: Yes, America's focusing on the truly important issues, like the fact that not enough people know the lyrics to the National Anthem. I'll freely admit that I wasn't as familiar with verses 2 through 5 of the Anthem (the whole of which is here), with such Sondheimian wordplay and rhymes as reposes/discloses and confusion/pollution, but haven't these people been to a baseball game? Also, if you think singing the Anthem is hard, you should take a look at the original lyrics to the tune, which contain tongue-twisting lines like "To Anacreon in Heaven, where he sat in full glee," and "Apollo rose up and said 'Prithee never quarrel.'"

Of course, the Anthem, with all its flaws, remains superior to Maryland's state song (enacted in 1939), featuring such lovely moments as "The despot's heel is on thy shore!," "Huzzah! She spurns the Northern scum!," and other pro-South Civil War sentiments.

FIRST PRIZE IS THE GRETCHEN MOL GUESS-WHY-SHE'S-HERE SLOT ON THE COVER OF THE VANITY FAIR HOLLYWOOD ISSUE More so than anybody I know, Adam likes to get in on the ground floor of the reality shows. I first heard of TAR, ANTM, and Greenlight (all of which I love), and AI, Joe Schmo, and Project Runway (none of which I watch) from him. So, in an effort to scoop Adam, I am pleased to announce to you the greatest reality show on television: WB's The Starlet.

Disclaimer: I have never seen this show.

The premise is wickedly clever: Randomly kidnap ten delusional skinny girls from the malls, cafes, and Cingular stores of Los Angeles, baldly lie that one of them is going to be a star, and lock them in a room to claw each other to death while being judged by two actresses who apparently have a little free time plus the casting director from Project Greenlight. The reward: two or three years of unsuccessful auditions and a bus ticket back to the small town where the winner was the most attractive girl in her high school. In other words, same as every waitress in LA. Premise aside, this show really runs on the realistic challenges. Last week, and I'm not making this up, the contestants had to do the girl-on-girl kissing scene from Fastlane. Future challenges: reenacting artistic nude scenes from John Byner's Bizarre, "How Much Blow is Too Much Blow?" and "Brian DePalma's Casting Couch."

While on the topic of shamelessly exploitative reality TV, Defamer sadly reports that Paradise Hotel is not returning to Fox. Defamer sums it up better than I could: "the beloved reality show in which 'contestants' were locked away in a luxury resort with nothing to do but drown themselves in margaritas, screw, and tear out their hair at the capriciously-shifting rules concocted by sadistic producers." That gimmick -- changing the rules with no warning at all -- never got old. I don't know why nobody else uses it.