All those hours spent with her Jamie Fawcett voodoo doll, tearing up his pretend cash and cutting up his pretend credit cards before jamming his pretend camera up his doll bot-bot, have finally paid off for Nicole Kidman, it would seem.

Her arch enemy Mr Fawcett, a notorious paparazzo, has just declared himself bankrupt.

Freelance photographer Jamie Fawcett has confirmed losing a defamation case which called Kidman as a star witness has proved his financial ruin.

With legal bills reportedly in excess of $1.6 million following the judgement against him earlier this year, Fawcett told Confidential yesterday he was formally bankrupted on August 29.

And how did all this come about? Apparently Jamie Fawcett didn't like the Sun-Herald referring to him as Sydney's "most disliked freelance photographer".

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Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban have finally brought daughter Sunday Rose to Australia where she belongs to meet the press grandparents and ride in the pouch of a passing kangaroo while drinking Vegemite out of a sippy-cup (or something like that). Predictably, Our Nicole's favourite people - the paparazzi - were waiting for them. But not so fast, deviant snappers of the night!

Decoy cars helped to block the press in pursuit, while an aviation fuel tanker and luggage trailers were also strategically parked to limit vision to the jet and couple's cars.

In a twist of fate, the actor's nemesis, paparazzo Jamie Fawcett, was detained by police for a roadside check, while he was en route to the Kidman's harbourside home.

Can't you just see Fawcett waving his fist in the air and shouting, "And I woulda made it, too, if it wasn't for you meddling kids!"? Defamer Australia looks forward to seeing Sunday Rose hitting the water at Bondi Beach with a "swim nappy" on and a swipe of fluorescent green and gold Zinc Stik across her nose.

Good news for the beleaguered Hollywood paparazzi: LAPD Chief William Bratton opposes a new proposal to place restrictions on particularly aggressive photographers. In fact, he took time out of his daily workout to tell KNBC that the problem lies not with the paparazzi but with the bad girls they photograph — a salient point made amusing by Bratton's brusque verbiage and up-to-the-minute starlet savvy (preserved on video after the jump):

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Perhaps inspired by the Britney-prompted downturn in paparazzi profits, former commercial photographer Tania Cowher has come up with a novel (yet terrible) solution: allowing non-celebrities to hire their own personal paparazzi via her service Celeb 4 a Day. After all, who among us hasn't yearned to be stalked by a loudmouthed photographer screaming, "Over here! Look over here, you bitch!" on the way to Walgreens? The answer is "almost everyone," at least if this clip from Rachael Ray is the judge. After grilling Cowher, Ray asks the audience to raise their hand if they'd use the service themselves, soliciting a feeble response. Next time, Tania, try Oprah: the audience will scream in pleasure when O yells "You get Getty Images! You get an X17 subscription! EVERYONE GETS A BAUER-GRIFFIN LOGIN!"

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Next time you see a paparazzo camped out on the sidewalk outside of Hyde, won't you toss him a nickel? Times are tough all over, and the recession that swallowed America is now threatening to put Hollywood's most aggressive celebrity photographers out of business — only, the blame for this financial crunch falls squarely on a newly sane (and thus unphotographable) Britney Spears. Says the L.A. Times:

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In the latest Pap Said / Celeb Said scandal, the mystical forests of Brangelina's French estate turned into a bloody battleground where one ruthless pap and the Jolie-Pitts' head of security attacked each other with walkie-talkies and teeth. As the NY Daily News reports, freelance photographer Luc Goursolas was so determined to slip into the compound unnoticed that he spent five hours on foot, decked himself out in camouflaged clothing, only to come face-to-unhappy-face with the soccer team's unamused top guard. As Goursolas claims:

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On the surface, the life of the average paparazzo seems almost impossibly glamorous and adventuresome—spent loitering outside one of L.A.'s many ultra-exclusive social establishments, or ducking sniper fire on the branch of an electrified fig tree trying to capture a Chosen Twins double-breast-feeding session. But there are several things we felt you should know before dropping your lucrative dermatology practice to follow your dreams of running away with the pap circus; Defamer videorobics instructor Molly McAleer has generously compiled them all here for you here, along with A/V supporting evidence. Just watch it. That's all we're saying. And keep one eye on that Cash Warren character. Getting Jessica Alba pregnant isn't his only trick shot.

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100 years from now, history buffs will return to the Paradise Cove beachhead decked in period-appropriate costume, thrilled to recreate that region's legendary battle between the Paps and the Serfs. It was a war that began, like so many others, over the honour of an object of astonishing beauty: In this case, that would be Matthew McConaughey—their flip-flop-misplacing Helen of Troy. The surfing battle wages, having migrated online:

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Casual nudity enthusiast Sienna Miller became an official card-carrying member of that elite group of celebrities who unleash their hate of paparazzi by way of physical assault. As the Daily Mail reports, Miller swung her pricey purse at one pap's face yesterday at LAX, possibly because he was a resident of Pittsburgh, or maybe she simply mistook him for Jude Law (as the pictures show, there is a resemblance to the nanny-loving baldie). But Sienna's moment of outrage prompted us to recall our all-time favourite When Celebrities Attack moments in time, from Woody Harrelson's caught-on-tape choke-hold to Justin Timberlake and Cameron Diaz's romantically executed freakout years ago. Our five top picks after the jump:

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Remember Jamie Fawcett, the celebrity snapper who ended up tangled up in court with Nicole Kidman for reasons I am still attempting to decipher? His name has come up again this week after Mischa Barton called him a "pervert" and, in a vaguely Austen-esque moment, said she'd "never abhorred anyone more" after shots of Barton lounging in Queensland made their way into NW accompanied by the usual "OMG CELLULITE!!" coverage.

Well, as though holding one of the world's most hated job titles wasn't enough, Fawcett's now trying to clear his name by telling us all that he's actually a really nice dude and - get this! - he actually tried to save Barton from the inevitable indignity.

Chivalry isn't dead, ladies!

"We spoke to each other on the island, and that's when I showed her my camera and I hadn't taken any shots of her topless," he said. "I did warn her it was a public place, and if she wanted privacy she shouldn't be there.

"But it is a shame that publications tend to highlight an issue that is not fair to a young girl, and I wouldn't seek to publicly embarrass her with nudity or health issues or body image issues.

"However, sometimes these are the things that sell pictures."

"A shame"? Man, who knew the paparazzi were such sensitive creatures? You might think all that hiding in bushes while gripping ridiculously phallic telephoto lenses business makes them the scum of the earth, but I guess you were wrong, huh?

But wait, Jamie wants to tell you about some of his other humanitarian efforts:

"I once saw Keanu Reeves dancing in the nude on a balcony with a girl, and just decided not to shoot them, as I didn't think at the time that anyone would run those pictures."

What a guy! However, being a modest dude, he decided to leave his SNAG credentials at that - though I can confirm that Fawcett later went home to his mountain lair, but not before saving a Coles bag full of kittens from drowning and then helping an old lady across the street.

How do I know this? Because I am the old lady. I haven't felt that cared for since the woman across the street sent her son to give me a Hallmark card.