“Naked Hollywood” [ ]

Tomorrow at 10 p.m. on AMC

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IF you love juicy gossip and hope that the most exercise you get this weekend is pushing the buttons on the remote, have I got a weekend plan for you.

Starting tomorrow, AMC is airing four specials called “Naked Hollywood” which, sadly, don’t contain lots of naked pictures of Hollywood stars and/or George Clooney. But they are filled with the cheesiest tales of glitzy lives and tawdry/mysterious deaths of Hollywood icons wrapped up in specials titled “Final Day.” Like? Like the “Final Day” of James Dean, Buddy Holly, Marilyn Monroe and Natalie Wood.”

The first two “Final Day” specials run back-to-back tomorrow and the, er, final two on Saturday. Tonight there’s the story of James Dean’s demise by Porsche, followed by an in-depth study of the life and early death of Buddy Holly.

Using absolutely amazing footage that you won’t believe (most especially in the Dean death-ography), the filmmakers intermix a pretty thorough biography with the events of the final days of the star’s life.

And they don’t make it look pretty for the camera. I mean, who knew James Dean was a bisexual who got his breaks after some serious casting couch clutches. But then again I always thought Liberace was straight.

You’ll be amazed at how they don’t pull any punches in discussing Dean’s wild sexuality with both his friends and lovers. Yes, they are still alive – and since they live in Hollywood, they are for the most part even well preserved, or pickled or something.

Natalie Wood’s “Final Day” bio is equally as riveting. For one thing, did you know she left Robert Wagner the first time because she was having a torrid affair with Warren Beatty? Of course, you could stick in the names of 10,000 actresses in the above sentence, but Natalie Wood? Who knew? Oh, you did? Well, I didn’t.

More riveting than her life, however was her mysterious death. Was she having an affair, which drove Wagner over the edge – or rather literally drove Wood over the edge? Would I tell you?

If you have other plans for the weekend, such as say, going to your luxurious summer place to frolic with P. Diddy and the Hilton sisters, well, I feel for you.

You really will have a much better time in your apartment with the TV set to AMC, the pizza guy’s number on speed dial, and your incoming calls blocked. Really. For one thing, you don’t have to worry whether or not you look fat in your new bathing suit.

And for another, the people you meet in the Hamptons won’t be nearly as interesting. Didn’t that dreadful “The Hamptons” docu-bore on ABC prove that earlier in the week?