Lana Del Rey hasn’t even got her debut LP out and yet, somehow, the backlash has already begun! We say ‘somehow’; we know exactly why it has started – she makes really awful music and she’s obviously getting very famous because she’s easy on the eye.

Naturally, that’s not a new criticism against pop-music, but who cares? If Lana Del Rey can rely on the same tired cliches of the alt.pop of yore, then we can certainly chide it for the same old boring reasons.

And oddly, we’re not the only ones who think that Del Rey has a whiff of Emperor’s New Clothes about her. The Also Makes Lousy Music actress, Juliette Lewis, has criticised Lana Del Rey’s performance on Saturday Night Live.

Lana Del Rey appeared on SNL performing her drip-hop tracks, ‘Video Games’ and ‘Blue Jeans’. Lewis didn’t hang around waiting to have a pop at her via twitter:

Wow watching this ‘singer’ on SNL is like watching a 12 yearold in their bedroom when theyre pretending to sing and perform #signofourtimes

The irony here, of course, is that Lewis wouldn’t have a music career if it wasn’t for her being an already famous actress. See also: Zooey Deschanel in She & Him.

In the interests of fairness, hecklerspray would like to see Lewis, Deschanel AND Del Rey all shutting the frig up, forever and ever amen. Lousy music made by people with a fast-tracked career path, thanks to something remarkable away from their mediocre musical prowess.

What we’re saying is, if you like Lana Del Rey’s music, you must be either 8 years old or too proud to admit that you fancy her.

Not that Del Rey agrees.

”I got it because I’m a good musician. And I may not have a record out now, but I have been singing for a very long time, and I think that ['SNL' creator] Lorne Michaels knows that, and everyone over there knows that.”

Yes. But would the fanboys and doting girls still fizz themselves into next week if you had a hare-lip and an iron claw?

Either way, if you include our involvement too, this is the most pointless spat in the history of anything, ever. Seriously. We should all be taken into a public square and flogged to death.

Until then, Lana Del Rey sucks and you’re scum for liking her music.

Juliette Lewis is a strange lady isn’t she? She’s part actor, part singer in a rock band and, weirdest of all, not particularly attractive yet still quite fanciable. Sadly, she’s a Scientologist which means she’s dafter than a rucksack full of eye balls.

To her list of achievements, you can now add ‘injured in a hit-and-run crash’.

Yep, Lewis has been involved in an accident in Burbank, police said. So was Lewis hammered on Thetan juice behind the wheel, crashing into Scientology naysayers? Of course not. That would be ridiculous.

Lewis was in fact the passenger in the back seat of a Lincoln Town Car when a driver ran a red light, smashing into Lewis’ Scientologymobile, and then kept going. That’s according to Sgt. Sean Kelley.

The car was found not too far away, but the driver had fled the scene. OR HAD BEEN ABDUCTED BY ALIENS.

Apparently, Lewis’ ride was “completely totaled.” Who said that? Who cares? This is a site based on crowbarring jokes into scurrilous rumours if you hadn’t noticed.

Lewis’ representative said:

“[Juliette] went to the hospital to be checked out and is a bit banged up and sore but otherwise thankfully okay. She is now resting at home.”

Yeah. Resting with Scientology. If that’s possible. Okay, we’ll stop now.

Mainly because we’re likely to get some Scientology nutters following us around and sticking cameras in our faces in an attempt to make us cry all the time.

We’ve got news for you buckos! We’re already crying all the time! SO THERE.

Anyway. Juliette Lewis. She’s not dead or anything.

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Given the high abundance of adolescent pseudo-intellectual gobbledegook that seeps from the jaws of Ellen Page’s Juno in the Oscar-winning movie of the same name, it’s hard to view her with anything but sheer barbaric contempt.

While she hardly shows much range beyond indie-grunge smarty-pants, at least in Whip It she appears likeable. Well, likeable in as much as we didn’t want to choke her on her obvious collection of Dawson’s Creek spin-off novellas.

Whip It, while still neck high in offbeat comedy and teen ideals, proves to beat Juno at its heart,  making for a more relatable coming-of-age story. Oh, and features more girl power than one Geri Halliwell’s padded bras from the ‘90s.

The real impact of the film comes from the ruthless ring of the Roller Derby. Bone-crunching spectacle of girl-on-girl action, it’s joyously outrageous and consistently pulse-racing. It’s a surprise spectacle that is handled with care, humour and emotion.

Certainly, Drew Barrymore’s – yeah, that moppet from ET turned Charlie’s Angel – directional prowess is proved especially in the action, managing to effortlessly keep up with the heart-pounding pace of the track. It only really suffers when she falls into familiar tropes of the indie genre.

Page suffers the same, engaging when interacting with her teammates, coming out of her shell when turning from day-to-day Bliss into Babe Ruthless on the traick and even sparking in the witty banter between the team and the coach (an excellent Andrew Wilson – the forgotten brother of Luke and Owen). When she goes through the romantic notions with prog-rock singer Oliver it starts to all fall apart. The offbeat soundtrack gets turned-up, sickening displays of deluded romantic notions (singing on car bonnets in the middle of nowhere; breaking into a swimming pool and somehow holding their breath underwater long enough to have sex) all start to weigh-down the midsection.

The family drama manages to walk the line slightly better, with Bliss’ beauty obsessed mother (Marcia Gay Harden - featuring a nifty plastic forehead) unsure how to deal with her ugly duckling daughter, even Dad (City Slicker and Home Alone alumni Daniel Stern looking about twenty years and stone older) is keeping his own secrets like his daughter.

By final stretch, there are so many loose ends that it works hard to tie them all up as neatly as possible. Perhaps a problem of trying to pack in more of the source material than necessary (it was a book after all) but each resolution comes unnecessarily thick and fast.

Still, it ends with one hell of a Derby, with Ruthless against her newfound adversary, Iron Maven (Juliette Lewis), taking to the track in grand crescendo of girls smashing each other in the face while wearing short-shorts. Frankly, if that’s not the best thing to happen to cinema in the last decade then we don’t know what is.

‘Spray Rating: 3.5/5

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We feel for Brad Pitt, we really do – he must wake up every morning, look at Angelina Jolie sleeping next to him and think "Why didn't I stick with that ropey-looking girl from Romeo Is Bleeding?"

But even though Brad Pitt and Juliette Lewis are ancient history, it doesn't mean that Brad didn't leave an impression on Juliette. He did – it's just unfortunate that it was an impression of an underdeveloped pistachio nut hiding in a Brian May wig. Because Brad Pit, according to Juliette Lewis, has a little tiny penis. It's been reported that Juliette Lewis used the Brad Pitt dinky winky anecdote in the middle of a recent concert by her band The Licks in Seattle. And that's a piece of information that those seven people and one injured dog won't forget for a long time.

Brad Pitt has it all – a beautiful girlfriend, all kinds of massive houses around the world, a financially-successful movie career, a much-loved humanitarian streak, children in every colour of the rainbow. But there's one thing that Brad Pitt doesn't have, and that's a penis that doesn't look like the blistered tip of a newborn baby's thumb.

That's according to Juliette Lewis, anyway, who was Brad Pitt's girlfriend back when she was famous. But although Juliette Lewis has now shunned film acting for stumbling around London dressed as a Native American and making a noise like a badger being pushed down the stairs, she hasn't forgotten the good old Brad Pitt days.

Specifically, Juliette Lewis hasn't forgotten the part of the good old Brad Pitt days that involved Pitt prodding her with his penis, which is apparently the size of four grains of sand piled on top of each other. According to veteran gossip columnist Mike Walker:

"After playing a rockin’ set with her band at club Chop Suey in Seattle… Juliette Lewis – who was hot ‘n heavy with hunky Brad Pitt back in the Stoned Age – was mingling at the bar when a wise guy fan blurted out: 'Hey, Juliette, how was Brad Pitt in the sack anyway?'… [Juliette replied] 'He was no… BIG deal, if ya know what I mean! As Juliette turned to head back on stage, the guy yelled: 'Are you saying Brad was the PITTS?' Juliette started laughing so hysterically she banged into a table and sent everyone’s drinks flying – but quickly ordered a round on her and hopped back onstage, still giggling."

We'll say one thing for Juliette Lewis – she might come off as hopelessly bitter by trying to score spurious points by publicly discussing her far more famous ex-boyfriend's penis, but she bloody well loves her puns.

So the question is this: does Brad Pitt really have a set of microscopic genitalia or is Juliette Lewis telling lies to put him down in public? Perhaps the answer is a little bit of both. After all, seeing Juliette Lewis take her clothes off in Strange Days seemed to make most mens' vegetables shrivel up almost to the point of becoming internal, so imagine what looking at her in the flesh must have done to Brad Pitt, the poor lamb.

Read more:

Juliette Lewis Takes a Shot at Angelina Jolie's Man's Manhood, Mocks Pitt? – National Ledger