According to William J. Mann, Taylor’s latest biographer, we probably shouldn’t have been. “How to Be a Movie Star: Elizabeth Taylor in Hollywood,” argues that, despite Taylor’s half-dozen or so legendary on-screen roles — including her Oscar-winning portrayal of a posh call girl in “Butterfield 8″ — the instrument she truly mastered was celebrity itself. That she’s nabbed a few more headlines by communicating directly with her fans using the latest technology only demonstrates that she hasn’t lost her touch.

Raised in the studio system at a time when stars’ images, careers and personal lives were approved and manufactured by potentates like MGM head Louis B. Mayer, Taylor, as Mann sees it, ushered in a new age of candor and independence. The studio had groomed her as an idealized, sensual but sweet beauty, and then she went out and stole Debbie Reynolds’ husband, Eddie Fisher, launching a scandal that obsessed the popular press for the better part of the late 1950s. (The infamy of that romantic triangle puts the Aniston-Brangelina soap opera in the shade.) Cast as “cruel and heartless as a black widow spider” (in the words of gossip columnist Hedda Hopper, her one-time sponsor and later nemesis), Taylor didn’t entirely recover the public’s favor until 1960, when she was hospitalized with “Malta fever” in London and reportedly hovered near death.

No sooner had she won back her fans than Taylor shocked them again by jettisoning Fisher and taking up with her married “Cleopatra” costar, Richard Burton, in Rome. This time, rather than lying low, as Taylor had at the beginning of the Fisher affair, she and Burton commenced “flaunting” their adultery on the Via Veneto, “seeming to revel in the headlines and round-the-clock publicity.” They received anonymous death threats, and a congresswoman from Georgia tried to have them barred from reentering the United States, but Taylor brazened it out. In a way, it was the beginning of the sexual revolution. “I try not to lie,” she told a reporter. “I can’t be hypocritical just to protect my public.” Long after Taylor and Burton married in 1964, the couple continued to draw mobs of fans and gawkers wherever they went, becoming among the first targets of the paparazzi’s new telephoto lenses.

Elizabeth Taylor books abound, and while Mann’s eminently yummy entry is pretty much everything you’d want in a Hollywood biography, it’s not a whole lot more, either. What does make “How to Be a Movie Star” distinctive is its focus on the changing nature of personal fame as embodied by a woman whose life has consisted of one superlative after another. Married eight times and enduring a string of health crises, Taylor was not only the last classic movie star and the first actress to be paid a million dollars a picture, but at various times regarded as the most beautiful and the most famous woman in the world. Mann has obtained some previously untapped material from the supporting figures in her spectacular life, making particularly good use of Hedda Hopper’s files as he casts the columnist as the embodiment of old Hollywood, alternately courting and denouncing “that slut” who defied it.

The most enjoyable chapters in “How to Be a Movie Star” describe the media circus of the Reynolds-Fisher scandal. Debbie Reynolds, working her girl-next-door image for all it was worth, played the abandoned wife and mother to Taylor’s shameless homewrecker, capitalizing on the barely submerged domestic anxieties of the 1950s. In reality, Fisher’s marriage to Reynolds had been arranged by MGM and had always been loveless. (Their daughter, Carrie Fisher, described the relationship as “basically a press release.”) Posing for photographers with diaper pins on her blouse and tears in her eyes, Reynolds gave the performance of a lifetime; as one columnist later observed, “Debbie has more balls than any five guys I’ve ever known. She pretends to be sweet and demure, but at heart she’s as hard as nails.” Refusing to submit to the studio’s management of the story, Taylor deployed her own press agent to portray her as a devotee of true love. It was the first Hollywood scandal in which dueling versions of the story were presented to the public for vetting, a recipe for endless coverage. Instead of poleaxing the release of “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof” (with Taylor playing a sex-starved hussy in a lacy slip), as the studio had feared, the controversy made it a smash hit.

As a pioneer for the Madonnas and Lindsay Lohans of today, women whose personal lives occupy more of the public imagination than does their creative work, Taylor comes across as remarkably sympathetic and uncomplicated. For all her temperament, narcissism and hedonism, she was never driven or insecure. She didn’t seek applause as a balm for deeper wounds, like Judy Garland or Marilyn Monroe; her fame was forged by others rather than the object of her own ambition. She didn’t much like making movies, though she’d occasionally pull out the stops when the project suited her whims. What she really wanted was to lounge around on yachts and in luxury hotels, chowing down on fried chicken with “lots of gravy” and waking up to a Tiffany’s box on her pillow on a fairly regular basis. Acting, fame and a few of her marriages were little more than means to those ends.

It’s a truth universally acknowledged that the less someone needs your love, the more lovable they appear, and so it has been with Elizabeth Taylor. The Wife of Bath wrapped in a mink coat, she was foul-mouthed and hard-drinking, addicted to diamonds and drawn to other women’s husbands, but she has a good heart, as both her respectful treatment of blue-collar film crew workers and her AIDS activism testify. “I don’t pretend to be an ordinary housewife,” she once said, mostly because she didn’t care enough about what other people thought to pretend anything. Yet, despite the CinemaScope dimensions of her life, in her red-blooded appetites she probably has more in common with the average American woman than many of the celebrities currently being touted as “just like us.” Endearingly, she devoted more of her Twitter feed to drumming up support for Kathy Ireland on “Dancing With the Stars” (“beauty in action and grace which is what that lady is all about”) than to her own surgery. And, as always, she survived.

“They’re so not, actually,” he says. (Whatever that means.)

Why should we believe him? “If they were [romantically involved], I would go, ‘I don’t know,’” he says. “But they’re actually not.”

And if we didn’t believe him, we’d say, “We don’t know,” but we actually do.

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Tears of a clown

“I think if we all acted the way we really felt, four out of eight people at a dinner table would be sitting there sobbing.”

– Jim Carrey on the human condition in the London Observer.

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Speaking of Eminem …

The rapper may soon find himself back in court. What’d he do this time? He pissed off the school bully.

According to the Detroit Free Press, DeAngelo Bailey, the apparent subject of Eminem’s “Brain Damage,” about a kid who routinely shoved the rapper into lockers and into urinals in the high school boys’ room, has filed a $1 million lawsuit, claiming that his character has been wrongly impugned.

“In his music lyrics, Eminem falsely portrayed himself as the victim of a pattern of outrageous and grotesque physical abuse from his childhood friend Bailey,” reads the Macomb Circuit Court lawsuit. “Eminem publicized lyrics that were intended to damage Bailey in order to improve Eminem’s reputation as a rap artist.”

Bailey, who denies harassing Eminem, says that the damage to his reputation has prevented him from launching his own rap career. He is currently making ends meet as a sanitation worker.

“From all I can tell, this is a case of ‘I’ll file a lawsuit and see if I can get some money,’” Eminem’s lawyer told the Free Press.

I’d say there’s only a slim, shady chance of success there.

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Material mouth

“At a time when political correctness is valued over honesty, I would also like to say, ‘Right on, motherf—–. Everyone is a winner!’”

– Madonna, scandalizing the British art-loving public by swearing as she presented the Turner Prize on a live TV broadcast.

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Juicy bits

You wouldn’t think Hugh Grant was the choosy type, but he is apparently dismissive of Helena Bonham Carter’s charms. According to the U.K. Sun, after meeting up with the actress recently, Grant told friends that he found her too “hairy.” ‘Course, that drives some men ape.

And if Grant’s pregnant ex, Liz Hurley, didn’t have enough on her plate trying to think up mean things to say about the alleged father of her baby, Stephen Bing, she now has to contend with a new stalker. The 32-year-old fellow was arrested on Sunday by London police, after he was found lurking outside the actress’s apartment, the BBC reports. He was released on Monday and given a “written warning.” So much more effective than those verbal warnings …

Will four be the charm for Liza Minnelli? The big-singing showbiz icon has announced an all-star lineup for her upcoming wedding to producer David Gest. Whitney Houston will sing “Here Comes the Bride,” Elizabeth Taylor will be the maid of honor and Michael Jackson will give the bride away. Because lord knows he has no use for one.

The bigger they are … the harder they fall, but Arnold Schwarzenegger swears he’s just a little sore after wiping out on his motorcycle on Sunday and breaking a few ribs. “Don’t worry,” the actor assured the press. “This won’t affect my skiing with my family at Sun Valley [Idaho] this Christmas.” In other words, he’ll be back.

Good news for Gwyneth Paltrow. It looks like she might have a date for New Year’s Eve. According to USA Today, the actress is keeping company with her “Royal Tenenbaums” costar Luke Wilson, but she’s not going to fill us in on any details. “I’m sorry, but I don’t talk about my personal life,” Paltrow told the paper at the film’s premiere party last week. “You just learn the hard way not to get into it.” Never mind that recent blabbage about being “a very sexual person.”

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Miss something? Read yesterday’s Nothing Personal.

And this time, he let his artistic impulses roam free.

“For our anniversary, I had a certificate drawn up that states I can never leave her for eternity,” he says in the upcoming issue of Jane magazine. “It has the seal of the great state of Louisiana on it.” The latter came courtesy of a notary public, who came to the Baton Rouge set Thornton was working to make it “official.”

“I signed it in my own blood with a paintbrush,” the actor says with pride.

It was, he muses, the most romantic thing he’s done for Angie in some time, though the poor notary public didn’t quite see it that way. When Thornton broke out his ink substitute, he says, “I think she almost passed out.”

Maybe next time he should get it notarized by a phlebotomist.

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Breaking up is hard to do …

“Every relationship ends, until maybe you find one that lasts forever.”

– Penélope Cruz, Tom Cruise’s current squeeze, on the fleeting nature of love, in Parade.

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But it does have its advantages

“I can wear heels now.”

– Nicole Kidman on the bright side of her breakup with Tom Cruise, on “Late Night With David Letterman.”

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Eeeeeeew!

Reason No. 101 to hope that you can’t believe everything you read in the National Enquirer.

The tabloid is reporting that Elizabeth Taylor is hot and heavy with … Jeff Goldblum?

During a recent meal out together at L.A.’s Le Dome restaurant, a “fellow diner” tells the Enquirer, “They were cooing to each other and playing footsie under the table like young lovers. Jeff delicately kissed each of Elizabeth’s fingers and whispered sweet nothings to her. He was staring into her eyes like there was no one else in the room.”

Taylor, for her part, was said to be “blushing and giggling uncontrollably.”

“Jeff even acted like the waiter was interrupting their dinner,” said the source.

Please somebody tell me they were just rehearsing a scene …

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Dream on …

Note to Steven Tyler: If you’re interested in bedding Jennifer Aniston, walk this way.

Aniston says she and her hubs, Brad Pitt, have made a “Friends”-esque deal whereby she is allowed to sleep with the lippy Aerosmith singer, no questions asked.

“He is the one person that Brad says I can have if the opportunity presents itself,” Aniston says in the upcoming issue of Elle. “I don’t know how old the man is, but he’s phenomenal, that energy.”

Pitt doesn’t have an approved list, she says, adding, “Steven Tyler has just been our joke for a long time.”

Yeah, well, theirs and everyone else’s.

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Miss something? Read yesterday’s Nothing Personal.

Specials

Copperfield! Tornado of Fire (8 p.m., CBS) finds the illusionist trapped inside a flaming vortex. Masochism night continues with another installment of Eco-Challenge (8 p.m., USA). Looks like the team from Playboy is in trouble! The two-hour documentary Cleopatra: The Film That Changed Hollywood (8 p.m. EST/9 p.m. PST, American Movie Classics) takes a close-up look at the problem-plagued production of the Elizabeth Taylor-Richard Burton epic that, with costs adjusted to reflect today’s monetary value, still stands as the most expensive movie ever made.

Sports

Baseball:
Mets at Braves (3 p.m., TBS)

Basketball:
Lakers at Jazz (8 p.m., TBS)

Hockey:
Panthers at Flyers (7:30 p.m., ESPN2)
Kings at Coyotes (10:30 p.m., ESPN2)

Talk

Rosie O’Donnell (syndicated) Matthew Broderick, Kathy Griffin
David Letterman (CBS) Hugh Grant, Sade
Jay Leno (NBC) Martin Sheen, Trey Parker, Matt Stone
Politically Incorrect (ABC) Frankie Muniz, Harland Williams
Conan O’Brien (NBC) Sigourney Weaver, Alan Cumming

All times Eastern unless noted.

Specials

Elizabeth Taylor, Debbie Reynolds, Shirley MacLaine and Joan Collins play Hollywood has-beens revving up for a comeback. Is this the premise of a “Saturday Night Live” skit? No, it’s the new TV movie These Old Broads (8 p.m., ABC). The Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show (8 p.m., USA) opens its 125th annual competition. Chuck Woolery hosts Kiss the Bride (9 p.m., WB), a reality special in which three couples compete to win a televised wedding and honeymoon. To where, “Temptation Island”? Samuel L. Jackson presides over the ESPY Awards (9 p.m., ESPN), honoring the best athletic performances of 2000.

Talk

Rosie O’Donnell (syndicated) Jessica Alba
David Letterman (CBS) Chef Jamie Oliver
Jay Leno (NBC) Gary Oldman, Steve Zahn
Politically Incorrect (ABC) Chris Rock, Marlee Matlin
Conan O’Brien (NBC) Regis Philbin (rerun)
Craig Kilborn (CBS) Donny Osmond

All times Eastern unless noted.