After breaking the story two weeks before, the di Laine backlash moves on. The Independent reviews the latest developments for him and other celebreties.

	Dawson isn't really dead, he's just resting	IN THE aftermath of Titanic's global success, the world's media is so hungry for stories about Leonardo DiCaprio it will print almost anything, no matter how outlandish. Last week, for instance, several British tabloids reported that he'd been offered $33 million to star in a sequel to Titanic. There's only one thing wrong with this: DiCaprio's character, Jack Dawson, drowns at the end of the original film. The British reports were based on a story in last week's Globe, the American supermarket tabloid edited by Tony Frost, formerly of The Sunday Mirror. According to The Globe, ingenious writers at Paramount Pictures have got around the obvious flaw by being rescued by a life raft. (I can imagine a young hustler trying to convince a sceptical studio executive that Dawson isn't really dead, he's just resting.) He's eventually reunited with Rose, Kate Winslet's character, when they meet by chance during the First World War, where she's working as a field nurse. This sounded highly implausible, not least because Paramount Pictures doesn't own the sequel rights to Titanic which was made by 20th Century Fox. A quick call to Cindy Guagenti, one of DiCaprio's publicists, confirmed this. "Completely made up," she said. Not that DiCaprio's "people" are particularly reliable guides to what the actor's really up to. At this year's Cannes film festival the producers of American Psycho put out a press release claiming DiCaprio was set to star in their movie for $21 million. It quoted his manager, Rick Yorn, saying, "Leo is extremely excited about this script and has decided to make it a priority." This story also sounded unlikely since the lead character in American Psycho - based on Brett Easton Ellis's novel - is a yuppie psychopath who eats human flesh. This is unlikely to appeal to DiCaprio's fans who are predominantly teenage girls. Sure enough, two weeks after this story appeared, DiCaprio's handlers announced that he wasn't going to star in the film after all. Now for a true story about Leo. Last April, I went to see the hypnotist Paul McKenna who was performing his act on Broadway in the hope of landing an American television deal. I went backstage afterwards to tell him how much I'd liked the show and he was kind enough to introduce me to DiCaprio who was also backstage. DiCaprio was accompanied by his best friend, the magician, David Blaine. DiCaprio had come to see McKenna because he wanted to be hypnotised in order to be cured of a troublesome affliction. Unfortunately, McKenna was too discreet to reveal what it was. Afterwards, we all went off to a restaurant. By the time the food arrived, Leo had been joined by his notorious "pussy posse", a rag bag collection of actors, film makers and musicians. Before long, the models started arriving and began to insert themselves at the table as close to Leo as possible. One of these girls - she can't have been a day over 19 - started necking with a friend of Leo's and then, almost literally, dragged him off to the woman's bathroom. They stayed in there for about 20 minutes and, when they re-emerged, the man had a huge grin on his face. At first I thought I was the only one who'd noticed this but suddenly the whole of Leo's table rose as one and gave the happy couple a standing ovation. The girl bowed graciously and then sat back down as if she'd done nothing more shocking than go outside for a cigarette. I was enormously impressed. Perhaps not all of the stories about Leo and his pals are made up after all.
	DiCaprio had come to see McKenna because he wanted to be hypnotised in order to be cured of a troublesome affliction. McKenna was too discreet to reveal what it was.	Leo's "pussy posse" may have to be more careful in future. New York's beau monde is currently up in arms about a ghastly new threat to its continued well-being: stealth paparazzi. These are apparently normal kids who frequent Manhattan's trendy nightspots and fashionable parties armed with hidden video cameras. If they catch a celebrity with his or her pants down they activate a switch concealed in their trousers and the poor creature's indiscretion is then broadcast live on the web. You don't believe me? The website is located at www.spy7.com. Along with free photographs of sexy "teens" and a camera purportedly trained on a girls' school "dorm" it promises an up close and personal look at Manhattan at "nite". "Each and every night," it boasts, "our talented spies, wearing a hidden fibre-optic lens/camera, will visit dozens of New York nite spots from 11pm till 3am, in search of stars, glitteratti and celebrities, to catch them at their wildest and most vulnerable moments." Unfortunately, if you're not a member of the Spy7 club you can't access the footage in its archive. However, the good news is it only costs $19.95 to join. So far the scandalous behaviour the "stealth paparazzi" have caught on camera consists of nothing more exciting than a couple of micro-celebrities sleeping off too much alcohol. However, the website is only two weeks old. I'm confident that Leo will be caught doing something silly before the end of the month.