Patti LuPone apologizes after controversial comments on Kecia Lewis, Audra McDonald
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Daily Mail
9 hours ago
- Daily Mail
Nicole Scherzinger's BRUTAL comment about the Pussycat Dolls goes viral again as fans take sides
Nicole Scherzinger 's old comments about the Pussycat Dolls are coming back to bite her. Long before the 47-year-old superstar scored her 2025 Tony for Sunset Boulevard, she was climbing her way through the pop scene — first with the short-lived girl group Eden's Crush, and then as the breakout face of the Pussycat Dolls. The Dolls exploded onto the charts with their 2005 debut PCD, led by the smash single Don't Cha, which shot to No. 2 on the Billboard Hot 100. Hits like Stickwitu and Buttons soon followed, with Stickwitu even snagging a Grammy nomination for Best Pop Performance by a Duo or Group with Vocals. The lineup — Nicole, Carmit Bachar, Ashley Roberts, Jessica Sutta, Melody Thornton, and Kimberly Wyatt — was marketed as a united front, sharing the spotlight and the glory. But behind the scenes, that image wasn't as picture-perfect as fans thought. In a resurfaced 2012 Behind the Music interview — now recirculating as the series marks its 28th anniversary — Nicole dropped a bombshell, claiming she carried the vocals while the rest of the Pussycat Dolls were mostly sidelined from the recording process. 'I was the one singing,' she admitted, even alleging the other Dolls hadn't heard the tracks until after she'd already laid them down. That resurfaced clip has gone viral all over again, reigniting fan backlash and stirring up the age-old debate about just how much of the Pussycat Dolls was really a 'group effort.' In the video, Nicole nervously laughed before spilling tea that rocked the fandom all over again. 'Oh man, I hope I don't get in trouble for the stuff that I say,' she warned, moments before dropping her confession. 'I'll never forget I finished the album PCD,' she continued in the confessional. 'And [we] brought the girls into the studio and we played it for them... and that was the first time they ever heard the music.' Nicole doubled down, making sure no one misunderstood her point. 'Do you understand what I'm saying? We played the music for the Pussycat Dolls... It's the first time they ever heard the songs.' The comments quickly reignited old debates among fans. One critic slammed her for dragging the group, writing, 'This truly was such a nasty thing to divulge. lol. I don't think Nicole ever got shorted on credit for her work in PCD, but I guess she wasn't satisfied.' Another piled on, saying, 'As if we didn't know that she was the main one. Hell she made it known that if one of the other girls had a little part, she wasn't happy.' But plenty of others rushed to defend her. One supporter shot back, 'I still don't get the Nicole-lead-singer-hate thing. She's not the first and she won't be the last to sing mostly all the vocals for a group. Why does she get so much flack for being honest and unabashed about it?!' The resurfaced clip surfaced just weeks after Nicole closed a major chapter in her career with a powerhouse farewell as Norma Desmond in Sunset Boulevard. She gave audiences chills in her final performance, taking the stage one last time as the tragic silent film star and shocking fans with a dramatic curtain call look that featured theatrical blood trickling down her neck. Critics hailed her haunting portrayal in Andrew Lloyd Webber's dark classic, a role that not only earned her rave reviews but also a Tony Award. Reflecting on the journey, Nicole shared an emotional message with fans on Instagram: 'Today, the sun sets on Sunset Blvd for the final time. 'After living and breathing Norma Desmond for the past two years, it's almost impossible to grasp that today is the last show. What began as a limited run, then extended, now somehow, nearly 10 months on Broadway have flown by. 'Norma's story is for anyone who's ever felt alone. Lonely. Abandoned. Outcast. 'For anyone who never felt like they belonged. For those who once loved something deeply and had it taken from them, aching to reclaim it. For the dreamers. The fighters. The believers. The warriors. For those unshakable in their purpose and power, doing what they love most. '"This is my life. It always will be. There is nothing else."' She concluded with a heartfelt note: 'Norma has changed me forever. Thank you, Broadway 'for the magic in the making.''
Time Out
16 hours ago
- Time Out
Let me tell you—dating in NYC is actually awesome
'Let Me Tell You' is a series of columns from our expert editors about NYC living, including the best things to do, where to eat and drink, what to see at the theater—and in today's edition why to stay optimistic about our city's dating scene. At the very top of the list of claims I'm challenging—right up there with 'don't text him first'—is the idea that New York City is one of the worst places to find love. I write this as a single, heterosexual, 34-year-old divorcée. No roster. No situationship. No crush. (Okay, maybe one. Two if I'm delusional.) Basically, no prospects. (At least not at the time of publication.) And while you might already be rolling your eyes, waiting for the inevitable twist where this turns out to be a piece of ironic New Yorker -style satire, I'm not kidding. Take my hand. We're being earnest now. Dating in New York is actually awesome. Not because it's easy. (It's not.) It's messy and chaotic and everyone is perpetually 15 minutes late to a first date and maybe still in love with their ex. This isn't about being a hopeless romantic. It's about being open to the sheer chance of it all. It's the fact that the simple act of ordering a martini, joining the run club or locking eyes on the subway can lead to a conversation, which can lead to a connection, which can turn into a crush, which can become a love story. Yes, it sounds rom-com coded. Yes, I did watch Materialists twice in one weekend. (And I'd do it again.) But this isn't about being a hopeless romantic. It's about being open to the sheer chance of it all. If you're reading this, I sense you're a nonbeliever. Your algorithm is likely filled with think pieces about the so-called 'romantic recession,' about how dating apps are broken, how 'boy sober' is trending, how the romance sections at the city's best bookstores are booming because people would rather live in fictional meet-cutes than risk a real one. And then there are the endless rants on TikTok about first dates gone awry and etiquette being a thing of the past. But here's what all of those opinions are missing: New York is still one of the last places where a meet-cute doesn't feel extinct. Where 'anything could happen' isn't such a crazy thought—it's literally how this city works. And I know this because I've been testing the theory. Following my divorce, I've been actively dating—one or two dates a week, on average—since January. Am I tired? Yes. But I wouldn't trade it. Not the men, not the stories, not even the situationships turned into heartbreaks. Because each date, each encounter, has confirmed what I already suspected: The possibility itself is the point. Take one Friday in May. It was hot, one of those sticky, electric New York evenings where the sidewalks shimmer, the air feels charged and everyone's just a little more flammable. I wandered into a bar alone, ordered a glass of wine and locked eyes with the bartender—let's call him Chance. He moved with the easy confidence of someone who knew he was being watched, and when he winked at me, I felt that rare flicker of hope. We flirted. He made me a drink (or three) on the house. I left my number on my receipt. Two nights later he came over. Then, like so many New York men, he vanished. Until months later, on another whim, I found myself back at the same bar, face-to-face with him again. I didn't go back for the bartender. I went back for the feeling I'd had that first night… the high of being brave enough to walk into a place alone, to flirt with a stranger, to open myself up to whatever might happen. That night I even asked other people at the bar what they loved about dating in New York. Almost everyone, from Gen Zs to thirtysomethings, said the same thing: 'You can meet anybody.' And with that comes the promise of something. Maybe just a fling, maybe something more. Even the bartender, when pressed, admitted that women often assume he's only flirting to hook up, so they shut down on him (rudely, apparently) before he can make a real connection. And it made me pause—aren't we all doing that? Going on the apps and walking into dates and bars armored in cynicism, assuming the worst before the first drink arrives? New York teaches you that rejection and loneliness isn't the opposite of love, it's baked into the pursuit of it. Yes, you risk the proverbial (or literal) bartender not texting you the next day. You risk getting hurt. You even risk disappointing someone else. But that's the deal. There is no reward without risk. And when you're brave enough, kind enough and open enough, the reward isn't always a partner—sometimes it's just the reminder that connection is still possible. Grief is unavoidable, and none of us will get out of dating—or life—without it. But New York teaches you that rejection and loneliness isn't the opposite of love, it's baked into the pursuit of it. So don't stop. Don't settle. Don't buy into the rhetoric that dating here is doomed and you're destined to die alone. I'd rather navigate this city solo, chasing its endless ' what ifs?' and ' why nots?,' than close myself off to connection. Wouldn't you?
Metro
18 hours ago
- Metro
The Vivienne was going to play 80s legend in movie - 'we had it all planned'
The Vivienne was on the cusp of the biggest year of their life in 2025. Their career was entering a whole new league. Riding high off the success of a hugely popular tour in Andrew Lloyd Webber's The Wizard of Oz, the world was finally paying attention to this drag queen who was far more than enormous hair and dangerously high heels. They were a talent destined for more than just gay bars—Viv was headed for the West End, Broadway, and beyond. But The Vivienne's life was tragically cut short at age 32, on January 5. Viv—real name James Lee Williams—died from misadventure after suffering cardiac arrest from taking ketamine, a drug they had candidly admitted they'd been addicted to since their hedonistic early years performing in Liverpool's club scene. Just eight months after their death, a new documentary exploring Viv's extraordinary character, success, and the bright future they were building is set to air on BBC Three. Titled Dear Viv, the documentary features raw, emotional interviews with her family and friends—celebrating one of the most pivotal drag artists in recent memory, while also acknowledging her demons. Filming began somewhat accidentally, just five days after Viv's body was discovered, as the drag community reeled in shock. It was DragCon—the annual event that unites fans and their drag idols—typically a highlight during the otherwise gloomy days of early January. It's meant to be a celebration, but this year, it felt impossible to celebrate. Viv was supposed to be there, centre stage. 'Everyone was in a state of shock,' says Fenton Bailey, co-creator of RuPaul's Drag Race, who was at the event, speaking with grieving queens and fans who left heartfelt messages in a memorial booth called Dear Viv. A week earlier, Viv had been alive—now, a documentary about her life and death was already in motion. 'It was seeing that come together, and feeling the outpouring of grief, that we thought, you know, we really should document this.' The film will be released on BBC Three at the end of August. Bailey, who worked closely with Viv on numerous projects in the five years since they won the first-ever RuPaul's Drag Race UK, recalls their final conversation: the plans that were in motion for Viv, just weeks before her passing. 'Viv called me up and said, 'There's a role I want to play in a movie, and I want you to make it: Pete Burns, Dead or Alive.' We were in the early stages of putting that film together.' Viv was unrivalled when it came to impersonations—her Donald Trump is Snatch Game legend. But calling them impersonations almost undersells them. They didn't just imitate; they embodied queer icons like Kim Woodburn, Cilla Black, and Patsy Stone. A Pete Burns biopic starring Viv could have been game-changing. 'It would have been absolutely perfect, and I just feel only Viv could tell that incredible story,' Bailey says. 'It's almost like a doppelgänger. It's not an actor playing the part—it's like a spiritual twin. There are brilliant acts out there, but it had to be The Vivienne.' Dear Viv is a delicately balanced tribute—saluting Viv's unstoppable career, astronomical ambition, and the joy and hope they brought to so many lives, while also confronting her death with unflinching honesty. Viv's parents, Lee and Caroline Williams, and her sister Chanel remember the little boy James, who, even as a child, found the camera irresistible. So soon after his death, they speak openly about the shock and heartbreak surrounding it. It's perhaps a testament to Drag Race that so many of its contestants have felt safe enough to share stories they've kept buried—even from those closest to them. Viv was one of those contestants, revealing on national television that they were a drug addict—before telling her family. 'It was the easiest way I could have done it,' they later explained. 'I couldn't have done it to their face.' 'He held that from us to protect us,' Chanel says, through tears. Moments later, she somehow finds the strength to describe the moment she found her brother's body: 'He looked really peaceful.' It's an extraordinary thing to share so publicly, in the greatest depths of grief. 'I'd understand if in that moment they didn't want to participate in this film,' says Fenton. 'We're so honoured that they agreed to. Their love for their child is so powerful. And that's what so many kids need to hear—we all hope for parents who are supportive. I can't imagine how they were so open.' Viv's family, especially her sister, is now campaigning to reclassify ketamine from a Class B to a Class A drug in the UK. Illegal use of the drug reached record levels in the year ending March 2023, with an estimated 299,000 people aged 16 to 59 reporting use in that year alone. Even in death, The Vivienne might still save lives if her family succeeds. But Fenton wants to make one thing clear: Viv's legacy is not defined by addiction. Even in the depths of relapse, Viv brought joy—and her talent never faltered. They weren't defined by her demons. They thrived despite them. 'We tend to feel badly about addicts—we pity them. But Viv wasn't any more wounded than the rest of us. Her strength of character, her compassion, her emotional generosity—those were real and genuine. Those were the dominant pieces of her character. More Trending 'I wouldn't want to focus on addiction as some disease in the face of which she was helpless—because it wasn't like that. She owned it.' I wonder how Viv would have felt watching the film—so much love and affection poured out for her. So many hearts broken by a world without her in it. 'I think inwardly she'd be deeply touched,' Bailey smiles. 'But she'd probably blow it off with some flippant comment—I don't know what that line would be, but it would be f**king brilliant.' Dear Viv airs August 28 on BBC Three and will be available to stream on BBC iPlayer. Got a story? If you've got a celebrity story, video or pictures get in touch with the entertainment team by emailing us celebtips@ calling 020 3615 2145 or by visiting our Submit Stuff page – we'd love to hear from you. View More » MORE: Tommy Fury shares 'terrible' moment he hit rock bottom after Molly-Mae Hague left him MORE: 'I play Wallace and Elon Musk – only one of them actually made it to space' MORE: BBC bosses 'unable to retrieve Huw Edwards' £200k salary' amid huge job cuts
