Danielle Spencer and Russell Crowe in happier times.

Danielle Spencer and Russell Crowe in happier times.

Any Hollywood business manager who didn’t work on the assumption that marriage was just an eye-wateringly large cheque waiting to be written – less a leap of faith than a mutual psychotic break from which both parties were sure to be left neurologically hobbled – wouldn’t last a day in LA, where as Cher once said: “The only grounds for divorce are marriage.”

With that in mind, I think Russell Crowe and his ex, Danielle Spencer, deserve some sort of award. Not only did they stick it out for nearly a decade, but they have come up with an ingenious idea: the Divorce Auction. Yes, on April 7, you will be able to snap up 227 of the couple’s personal items from Sotheby’s Australia, which is holding Crowe’s Art of Divorce sale – that’s if you’re in the market for a fully functioning replica Roman chariot (from Gladiator), a collection of dinosaur bones the actor bought from Leonardo DiCaprio, or indeed a second-hand leather groin protector (from Cinderella Man) that was handy during the marriage’s death throes but is now no longer needed.


What could be more cathartic than watching your matrimonial memories – the fruits of your life together – go, go and be gone, only to be replaced by a nice crisp wad of spiritually cleansing notes?

I’m sorry, Gwyneth, but you’ve just been dethroned as the world’s most zen-tastic divorcee. Who wants to call their ex-husband “brother” (answer: nobody) or “consciously uncouple” when you can commercially uncouple? Eradicate the past along with any threat of future nostalgia by monetising your romantic rubble?

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