Megan (keeps stills from Little Fockers on her dartboard):
Right! Barbara Streisand… Don’t get all this love for the woman really… Apparently she’s a “commercial and critical success in entertainment” but for the life of me I don’t understand why! All she sings are a whole load of sappy love songs (*retch*) and has a nose I’m pretty sure you can see from out of space. Fair enough, she sounds nice enough when she sings but you can’t tell me there’s anything remotely unique about it! As far as being an actress she’s barely memorable (I’m hard pressed to recall what the Yentl storyline was even about!) or worse supremely irritating (as in Meet the Fockers where all she did was interfere in my appreciation of De Niro). All in all, I think she’s just a whole lot of hype without any reason, loved by a generation of old-fogies who sadly just didn’t know any better. So what’s your excuse Sarah? C’mon defend yourself! (if you can!)

Sarah (has a Funny Girl tattoo):
I beg your pardon, Megan? “Loved by a generation of old-fogies who sadly just didn’t know any better”? SOMEBODY HOLD MAH EARRINGS. I am far from an old-fogie and I adore Barbara Streisand. She’s old Hollywood and glamour personified. She’s right up there with Dolly Parton in terms of legendaryness. She IS a commercial and critical success in entertainment because she is entertaining. She has the voice of an angel and dreamy eyes. And your comment about her nose was both catty and irrelevant to her talent. Babs was the best thing about Meet the Fockers (which was abysmal in every single way, otherwise) – she was funny, endearing and unafraid to have Dustin Hoffman bury his face in her cleavage. CAN THE SAME BE SAME ABOUT YOU? And did you see her at the Oscars this year? DID YOU SEE? If not – SEE!

Megan:
Dustin Hoffman in my cleavage? Yes please! Now there’s a story for the grandkids!
Old Hollywood and glamour you say? Are we talking about the same woman? The Barbra Streisand who has been notoriously known for being absolutely controlling, ridiculously demanding (every hotel she stays at must ensure that she is provided with “peach-coloured toilet rolls to match her complexion and rose petals in the toilet bowl”. WTF?!) and terribly rude to those who work with her? Did you know that Walter Matthau was famously known for simply refusing to be anywhere near her except when specifically required to by the script of Hello, Dolly!? Or that the writer of Funny Girl, Isobel Lennart, described working with Streisand as “a deflating ego-crushing experience”? That American lyricist Paul Williams characterized his experience with her as “like having a picnic at the end of an airport runway”? How can you possibly call this woman, who has left such a bad taste in so many of her compatriot’s mouths, as the personification of old Hollywood and glamour? If a retarded sense of self-importance and terrible diva behavior is all it takes to become an old Hollywood icon then we have bigger problems than the just the frightening size of her nose to consider (and before you take your earrings off again be aware that I can only stop being catty about the pointy beak when the imprint of it has been successfully scrubbed from the back of my corneas). Especially when others such as Meryl Streep, Sigourney Weaver, Emma Thompson etc, who have not only managed to achieve the love of their fans but also the respect of their peers deserve the accolade so much more.

Sarah:
Barbra Streisand has worked her way up to success in a mostly male-dominated world. She has won two Academy Awards, a Golden Globe, eight Grammy Awards, five Emmy Awards and a Tony Award. With 32 top ten albums she holds the record for the most top ten albums of any female recording artist. Furthermore, she has achieved five number one albums in five consecutive decades. She is one of the few entertainers to have won an Oscar, Emmy, Grammy and Tony. 13 of her albums went multi-platinum. So if you ask me I reckon she is well within her rights to demand only the best of everything. Matthau, Williams and Lennart are clearly all inferior and threw her under the bus out of sheer jealousy. To make it in the film world as a woman when Barbara started out you had to have balls. You had to command any room you walked into. You had to be a force to be reckoned with to stay on the same level as the big boys. I’m sure now she is the sweetest 70-year-old you could ever hope to meet. Plenty of stars today without even an ounce of Streisand’s talent display equally diva-ish behaviour: Kim Kardashian for example. How could you say Emma Thompson is better? Where are her platinum albums???? Streisand must be single-handedly responsible for bringing to life some of the most toe-tapping tunes: Don’t Rain On My Parade, Somewhere, Woman In Love, The Way We Were, People; the list goes on. Such an icon is she that DJ Duck Sauce wrote a song and named it after her and it’s pretty amazing. On the poster for The Guilt Trip, Barbra is listed BEFORE Seth Rogen. That is how awesome she is. Have you even heard her sing? She has such a soft and deeply musical voice. No one sings like Streisand. Except maybe me in the bath on a Monday morning. As for the nose thing – let it go! This isn’t the Daily Mail, you know…

Megan:
ARGH!! That’s it! My deep respect for you has just dropped about 5 points. The DJ Duck Sauce song?! REALLY!! You’ve picked THE MOST ANNOYING song of this decade and called it “pretty amazing”. For shame, Sarah! I mean, for shame!
But I digress! I will give you this, the woman has managed to wrangle her way in to possession of quite a few awards and I’m sure she fully deserved them so good on her for that. But dearest Sarah, you must be truly lost if you think bringing up Kim Kardashian is going to win you this fight. First of all KK is not a star (and no, home-made porno star does not count), thus cannot be even remotely comparable to the likes of those who really are. If you choose to insist that she is, however, I can only assume that it is due to the sole fact that you can find no real Hollywood greats who would ever stoop so low as to act like a diva. Am I to then understand that in your opinion ‘success’ and ‘awards’ must equal a free pass when it comes to behaving like a self-indulgent child run rampant? Is this what our world has come to? If you’ve got a modicum of talent and a fair bit of success you get to treat everybody else like your personal retinue of flying monkeys?
Jealousy or not, there’s no smoke without a fire and Streisand has most certainly given plenty of people at least a shred of truth to start with. You can command a room without walking all over everyone else around you. Wouldn’t be surprised if her name was first on the poster simply because she threw a titanic temper tantrum to make it so.

Sarah:
Admit it, Megan; if you were in a club and Duck Sauce came on YOU WOULD DANCE.
Anyway. Success and awards are by no means a licence to behave like a complete monster to those around you, but as I said, Streisand’s career began in a different era. If a man behaved in such a fashion no one would bat an eye, but if a woman does it she gets compared to an airport runway (or something). Unfathomable, really. As for that “titanic temper tantrum” you mentioned, where is the evidence of this? I ought to have you sued for libel on Ms. Streisand’s behalf! If she was such a biblical demon why even cast her in the first place? The Guilt Trip looks like the sort of film that isn’t worth having a tantrum over. Seriously. It has Seth Rogen in it. Not going to be that serious.
I’d class Babs as the Judi Dench of Hollywood. Or maybe the national treasure status of Judi Dench married with the regal sultriness of Helen Mirren. A total class act who wouldn’t have a hissy fit at her time of life. She’s too busy frolicking in all her hard-earned Tinseltown money. More power to her, I say.

Megan:
Two great women decimated with just one simple sentence! Oh the horror! The atrocity! The…The…The…
I’m so appalled I’ve run out of words to express my outrage.
And no, I would not dance. I’d throw a titanic temper tantrum and run away screaming.

Sarah:
Right, that’s it. You and me. Dancefloor. Now.