I thought I really loved Madonna. The intro to "Holiday" and the video for "Like a Prayer" being reason enough for anyone to love Madonna. But I had really put her up there as, lest I admit, the sexiest woman alive. This wasn't just for looks, but for strength, provacativity (is that a word?), daring, intelligence, prowess, I could go on. However, this all changed last night when I was having dinner with a lovely group of women.
It all started with an innocent discussion about Layer Cake (please see if you haven't), where I was informing a friend that Michael Vaughn, the writer for Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and Snatch, had also written and directed this movie. Another friend, commented, "Boy, is Guy Ritchie's career over or what?" To which the rest of us stopped eating and pondered. Yeah, actually it was over. And who was responsible for that? Madonna, er, Madge, er, Esther. Bitch! The prodigy of British film, a man making movies so completely unique to anyone else, an extremely talented bloke, totally off the map now because Madonna forced herself into his horrible remake of Washed
Up Away. And his lastest movie, don't even know what it's called, bombed apparently. Thanks Madonna. He's ruined. Untouchable.
Then, another friend chimed in, "Madonna ruins careers. Look at Sean Penn." Yeah, look at Sean Penn. With Madonna, Shanghai Surprise, bad-boy media image, boozer, controversial in the wrong way. Then he ditched Madge and won Academy Awards. Saved himself while he could and now everybody loves Sean Penn.
I still love "The Immaculate Collection", and may still consider trashing this whole post if Madge were to befriend me when I move to London and become besties with Stella McCartney and Gwyneth Paltrow. But in the meantime, bollocks to you, Madonna. I want Guy Ritchie back.