Reese Witherspoon = Higest-paid actress. Ryan Phillippe = Seriously bummed.

On Friday, Reese Witherspoon topped The Hollywood Reporter's annual list of highest-paid actresses with an asking price of $15-$20 million per movie. Despite the box-office failure of her most recent film, Rendition (which I didn't even realize had come out in theaters), the star of Legally Blonde 2: Red, White and Blonde beat out the likes of Angelina Jolie (who was 2nd on the list), Nicole Kidman (who was 4th) and Halle Berry (who was 10th). Somewhere, Ryan Phillippe could be heard banging his head against a wall (I know, dude -- we all thought you were going to be the famous one, too).

I like Reese Witherspoon -- I liked Cruel Intentions, I liked Walk the Line, I even liked Legally Blonde and, while I never saw Sweet Home Alabama, I'm sure she was really pretty in it. And I don't mean to pick on her because she's successful, but it seems to me that the ongoing writers' strike, which is currently keeping everyone's favorite shows off of the air, could be resolved very easily if, instead of getting paid $20 million a movie, Reese got paid $10 million. Or if the Desperate Housewives chicks got paid $340,000 an episode instead of $440,000, or if Jay Leno got paid $30 million a year instead of $40 million (actually, you know what? How about Jay Leno doesn't get paid anything until he starts being funny? We get it, people are uninformed and they give stupid answers to simple questions -- it was kind of cute the first 7,000 times but I think the novelty is starting to wear off there, Jay...) Hell, Oprah could single-handedly end the strike tomorrow! Not that they don't deserve all that cash but, you know, the less-attractive people who write all those clever things that come out of your favorite actor's mouth are fighting for an extra 4 cents per DVD sale or something. You do the math.

I know that I've said this before, but the astronomical amount of money that celebrities make is symptomatic of a culture that worships any kind of fame, for better or worse (usually worse). It's the reason why Britney Spears' shitty parenting is consistently a bigger story than the genocide in Darfur, and why so many people in this country can't point to Iraq on a map but can recite 50 Cent's "In Da Club" by heart. I don't want to make any value judgments here, but it seems like our priorities (and I'm certainly as guilty as anyone else) are out of whack.

There isn't an easy fix to all of this, but I do have a few suggestions: Next time you're on CNN.com and you see a story about Christina Aguilera pregnancy rumors, don't click on it. Next time you're watching the "news" and a story comes on about Paris Hilton's vagina, change the channel. And next time that really sexy actress you like makes yet another romantic comedy about finding yourself when your husband dies (and they had been together since high school!), take that $10 and go buy a book -- and not a novelization of Tranformers but a real, genuine book. Not only will you feel better about yourself, but you'll be a more attractive person.

Of course, if that movie happens to be Legally Blonde 3: Guantanamo Blonde, you can find me in line. After all, there's only so much you can ask...

Sources:
Sliding scale: Salaries of Hollywood's leading ladies [Hollywood Reporter]