“In the original script, there was a huge sequence where Edwin Salt saves his wife, who’s in danger,” says [director Phillip] Noyce. “And what we found was when Evelyn Salt saved her husband in the new script, it seemed to castrate his character a little. So we had to change the nature of that relationship.”

O RLY, Phillip Noyce? “CASTRATED,” seriously!? And in the original script, the helpless damsel-in-distress thing was just fine? Because she doesn’t have, oh, BALLS? Blech.

Hugh Grant, 48, who played the skinny cad to a puffy Renée Zellweger in “Bridget Jones’s Diary” just eight years ago, may find the tables turned in “Did You Hear About the Morgans?,” a comedy to be released by Columbia in December. His co-star, Sarah Jessica Parker, is the sleek one this time around, while Mr. Grant’s famous dimples pop out where they used to pop in.

Once it gets beyond all the fat jokes, the article does make a few interesting points. One, it contrasts the male stars of today with the skinny stars of yesteryear.

Photos of midcentury stars — Humphrey Bogart, James Stewart, Clark Gable and others — show them to have remained rather gaunt at an age when many of the current crop are anything but.

And of course, this raises the question about female stars of today. Kathleen Turner is listed in the article as one of the only female stars of that generation that got fatter and is still allowed to act. As the article puts it, “actresses who expand do not often get roles to showcase that growth.” No; if anything, Hollywood has become less tolerant of heavier women, as it has seemingly become more tolerant of heavier men.

But a new willingness to cast heavier men “may have happened organically,” Ms. Fasano said, as Hollywood over the last few years has been plagued by what has widely been seen as a shortage of reliably appealing stars.

Somehow, I can’t see Hollywood shifting towards accepting “heavier females” in an organic or any other way–and I can’t see A-list women like Angelina or Gwyneth ever allowing themselves to gain weight, even as they age. Can you?

I was psyched to see WANTED, the new summer blockbuster action flick — based on a graphic novel — starring Angelina Jolie, Morgan Freeman and James McAvoy. My girlfriend and I saw it on opening night. (No worries, no spoilers here). My girlfriend and I love Angelina and the risks she takes on film, when she takes them.

I had hoped that Angelina would deliver a babe-kicking-ass role with chops and attitude. I had hoped the movie would be about coming into an identity that is better than the one before.

Instead, the movie was a meditation on how the modern age — and its attendant feminism — has slighted traditional Western (hell, GLOBAL) masculinity, with nice barbs thrown in about fat chicks, Latinos and working women added for a little extra flavor.

McAvoy and Jolie were convincing in their roles, but after 10 short minutes, I found myself fantisizing that Jolie’s Fox might take a sledgehammer to Wesley Gibson’s trachea. This is the unfortunate, mealy-mouthed white guy — The Opressed White Guy — played by McAvoy. I could list the many sins of this script — the principle one being how men must reclaim their roles as gun slinging, alpha-dog cavemen to counter the rising tide of contemporary corporate culture, which is turning us all into women. Pussies, if you want to borrow the language of the movie.

But in the first 5 minutes of the movie, we meet Janice, poor Wesley’s obese, fire-breathing, castrating bitch of a boss. Wait for it, wait for it… she’s eating a generous slice of her own birthday cake before devouring what little is left of Wesley’s Y chromosome. Moments later, she’s downing a donut. Yes, folks, the ultimate cinematic shorthand for a lazy, abusive manager is none other than an obese white woman with a secret stash of jelly donuts in her office desk. Before Wesley grows a pair and tells her off, we get to sit by and listen to a patronizing lecture about how Janice’s mistreatment in junior high gives her no right to be a bully. And she is a bully, folks. She snaps her stapler around Wes’ head as if to say do my bidding, boy, or your testes will be between these metal jaws next. She is physically ugly, personally repulsive and a binge eater. Her drug of choice (after the souls of her employees) is the emblematic donut. We can’t have a white guy tormenting Wes. It has to be a fat, disgusting white woman who feasts on donuts. How fresh.

The movie doesn’t do any better for the rest of its duration. The only role it challenges is the role of a wimpy corporate white hack with a dick. In order to reclaim his manhood, he best dump the demanding girlfriend (who’s fucking Wesley’s best friend) and learn to curve a bullet. Oh, and Fox stands out as the perfect woman. Beautiful, violent and practically silent. And she’s oh so fuckable. The cheating girlfriend’s biggest problem isn’t her cheating. It’s her mouth. It never stops. She actually has relational expectations, the sucubus!

If you think Janice and her donut binge is left behind in the opening scene, well, see the movie.

You’ll be disappointed.