The bump and grind was for charity and even though Bach’s Air on a G-Striny wasn’t played for the occasion, the event was designed to give a classier image to Montreal’s strippers and raise money for crippled children. Called a Celebration of Nudity, 43 Montreal strippers donated their time, took off their clothes, flogged their underwear and passed a tin cup amid patrons last week to raise money for Montreal’s Children’s Hospital Tiny Tim Fund. Brainchild of stripper Fonda Peters, who was “fed up with the bad reputation strippers have,” the third annual gala strip raised $2,300 in 12 hours. “I’ve been with the show for three years now,” said Nikki Lynne Liano, one of the performers. “Most of the girls do it because they have beautiful babies of their own and they just want to show their gratitude.”
EVP he six-foot snowfall may have cut U down on his last-minute Christmas shopping spree, but for Canadian actor
Donald Sutherland it also meant he stayed home for the holidays. Sutherland, along with Vanessa Redgrave (Julia), Lloyd Bridges (Battlestar Gallacti-
cTp he note was not sent in a bottle. It U came taped to the trunk of a Christmas tree. It was not sent from a desert isle captive, but from an eightyear-old boy named Bobby MacDonald in Antigonish, Nova Scotia. Both the tree and the note ended up in the Convent of the Sacred Heart in Manhattan last week. And Bobby’s words made The New York Times: “Dear Pen Pal, I am writing this letter and putting it on a tree my dad cut. I have brown hair and green eyes. I am in Grade 3. I have two brothers, 11 and 10 years old and a baby sister seven months. My dad works at driving a taxi. I was wondering what you paid for this tree when you bought it. We get only 80 cents to $1 for a tree on our farm. My name is Bobby MacDonald.” When last heard from, many Grade 3 students at the all-girl Sacred Heart School in Manhattan were writing Bobby, telling him, among other things, that trees from his father’s farm sell for $20 in New York.
ca) and Richard Widmark (Coma), was snowed in last week while shooting the movie Bear Island in the B.C. backwoods near Stewart, a location chosen for its Arctic-like qualities. Although he was due in New York to promote his latest movie, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Sutherland capitulated to mother nature, chopped down a Christmas tree and settled in for a celebration with his wife, Francine Racette, and their child, Roeg. Not all 130 members of the cast and crew followed suit. Bridges, for example, just wanted to put his feet up. He did. In a pair of electric socks—a present from his son, Jeff.
illed as the first Canadian jazz group to complete a tour of the Soviet Union (Oscar Peterson aborted a visit several years ago when dissatisfied with Soviet arrangements), Vancouver’s Fraser MacPherson and Friends
were given red-carpet treatment on their recently completed junket. Although the tour was tiring—13 concerts, three jam sessions and a television taping in nine days—and not all that remunerative—$200 per performance (plus 150 rubles in Russian expenses)—it did have its rewards. The gigs were sold out from Riga to Leningrad, the group was showered with gifts and trinkets—and one autograph seeker showed up with an old copy of the Canadian jazz magazine Coda, which MacPherson willingly signed. The warm reception actually turned steamy late one night when MacPherson received a telephone call from a groupie desirous of a personal audience with him. Although anxious to repay the hospitality he’d been shown, MacPherson declined the offer.
fter spending six years in ParliaZr-u ment scrapping and tangling with the Trudeau government, Tory watchdog MP Tom Cossitt, 55, found himself battling an opponent a little closer to home—his wife, Anne Cossitt. Following a Dec. 10 incident, when police were called to settle a domestic dispute at theCossitts’ Brockville, Ontario, home, Anne Cossitt was remanded in provincial court last week on charges of assaulting her estranged husband (Tom filed a divorce action Nov. 30) and causing him bodily harm. The MP, who was in hospital for three days and was treated for bruises, scratches and a neck injury, was also charged with common assault. The couple will appear in court Jan. 3. Round two.
the champagne, like the performers, was on ice last week when John Curry and his show Ice Dancing opened in Broadway’s 1,670-seat Minskoff Theatre. Curry was the trim little man who won the Olympic gold medal for figure
skating in 1976, beating out Canada’s Toller Cranston, who took the bronze. Cranston also started an ice show which played New York, but folded last year in a tangled financial mess. The same fate is not likely to befall Curry, who, after hiring some of North America’s bestknown choreographers—Twyla Tharp, Jean-Pierre Bonnefous, Peter Martins and Kenneth MacMillan—has become the new darling of the New York dance critics. Having solved the massive technical problems involved in laying a portable ice rink over the stage boards, Curry still had other things on his mind. “Of all the things we do in the show,” said the British skater, “I’m really only pleased with 15 minutes of it.”
econd only to the publicity generated by his dalliance with Princess Margaret was the ballyhoo raised before the launching of Roddy Llewellyn’s vocation as a recording star. But it seems
that all the hype in the kingdom won’t be sufficient to salvage his career. Shortly after the release of his first album, entitled Roddy, the BBC dropped plans to make it its LP of the week and, quickly thereafter, it dropped off the British charts. Despite singer Petula Clark’s promotion of the album and a song called Her Eyes, Those Loving Eyes (designed to evoke thoughts of romance in Kensington Palace) Britain’s largest record store, HMV, reports Roddy has sold only 13 copies. Although Llewellyn received close to $100,000 for the record, it appears that his life as a rock star is over and that he’ll probably go back to the horticultural business he established two years ago when he and Princess Margaret were visitors at a grow-your-own fruit and vegetable commune in Wiltshire. Said his record producer: “As for any future records, it’s in the lap of the gods.” Commented Petula: “Roddy can sing. He just needs practice.”
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