"Titanic" - the ship is not the only thing that's sinking

A new dramatisation of Titanic starts next month on ITV. Brought to us by no less than Julian Fellowes (Downton Abbey).

Reader, my heart sinks.

We already know the ending. So all Fellowes can do is mine a seam that has already been ruthlessly exploited before. He will create relationships and intrigue on the doomed vessel.

I can just imagine some of the treats in store. An inseparable pair of brothers in steerage, setting off to earn their fortunes in America. The twist? One of them is disabled in some way. Thus setting up a nice scene for the glug-glug-glug bit at the end.

A beautiful, sensitive young debutante whose mother has just died. Her cold, ruthless father is demanding she marry some rich old cove. On the ship she meets xxxx, no doubt charming, Irish and in steerage, where they will have many a knees-up.

There will be snooty old dowagers; a cad who's spent all his family's wealth; a bigamist doing a runner. And of course: the iceberg. Let's hope it's a lot more convincing than the computer generated creation in the Winslet film. I couldn't stand that film. Everything about it was wrong: the over-acting of Billy Zane, racing round craze-eyed; the tinny squeaks of Winslet  - "Jack come back!" - and the sight of her and Jack as ship's figureheads in the film's most copied scene.

Where are you on the Titanic saga?

Mick the only surprise in tedious BAFTAS

Maybe it's the recession, maybe they're saving their best frocks for the Oscars. Whatever the reason, the BAFTAs was a distinctly gloomy gathering of the stars. Most of the frocks were black, whereas I was hoping for an explosion of colour as we've seen on the cat walks.

The only stars who stood out, to my mind, were Sharon Stone who J remarked "still looks good," in red, and Angelina Jolie, albeit in black but with a dash of citrus. I can't even remember what the gorgeous Penelope Cruz was wearing so it can't have been very memorable. "She looks rough" was J's remark about Kylie, in black. (Reminder to self: black now looks so boring!).

Meanwhile each category seemed to feature the same old films. I now have no inclination to watch either The Changeling or The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. I am quite enthusiastic now about Slumdog Millionaire and I've Loved You So Long. I can't believe how Mamma Mia hasn't won any awards - a marvellous feel good film, fantastic cinematography (and largely made at Pinewood - which wasn't mentioned when Pinewood was given its award).

The only surprises in proceedings were Mickey Rourke winning best actor, and Man On Wire defeating Slumdog Millionaire for Outstanding British Film. (I saw it recently and it really is the most marvellous documentary).

Plus, Mick Jagger was a big surprise. I've always discounted him as an ageing old lothario. But when he came bounding out on the stage I was struck by his charisma and his youthfulness. He was the only presenter who said anything remotely funny all night (sorry Jonathan Ross, but you were so busy minding your P's and Q's you weren't your normal ebullient, hilarious self - thanks prissy Daily Mail readers for that). Even my mother agreed and said she could almost fancy him herself.

Kate isn't a saint

I was amused to see one of the harpies (ie a woman columnist for one of the nationals) last week claiming that actress Kate Winslet fulfils all the criteria to be an icon to men and women. Yet today Kate is castigated by the boilers for blubbing when she won two awards at the Golden Globes on Monday.

True, she was embarrassingly snivelly and incomprehensible, and yes, it did bear comparison with the hideous performances of Gwyneth Paltrow and Halle Berry. Yes, these ladies should try to get some perspective. But it's not a crime, and the harpies should cut Kate some slack.

They've put her on a pedestal for some reason and still labour under the misapprehension that Kate is a normal Reading lass who had sausage and mash at her wedding and has somehow struck it lucky in Los Angeles with her glittering film career.

They don't seem to realise that Kate has moved on!

Sausage and mash was at her first wedding reception - and the marriage ended. Her second wedding, to Sam Mendes, was a different affair. She's a much more toned, glossy and groomed Kate than she was back in Titantic days. She maintains her figure with a harsh regime of diet and exercise. She might love her food but these days she knows she won't get work unless she is a US size 6 at the max.

The fact that she appears in big budget blockbusters and has Oscar nominations cascading down on her bears witness to how hard she has worked and how she understands the system over in LA.

So if she acts like a "lovey" and starts blubbing at the Oscars next month - assuming that her Golden Globes are precursors to The Big One - don't criticise her. It's what superstars do!

ps. I don't have a lot of respect for the tabloid lady writers - Jan Moir, Amanda Platell, Liz Jones and their predecessors, Lynda Lee Potter, Jean Rook. They're generally a disgrace to women and far worse even than some of the Neanderthal male writers like Clarkson and the ridiculous Rod Liddle.