(Photo: AP Photo)

Regis Philbin
Million-Dollar Man

Well, we didn't see it coming. If someone had told us a few years ago that the hottest name in television at the turn of the millennium would be Regis Philbin and that America would be hooked on a game show, we'd have asked, "Is that your final answer?" But here's Reege, grinning away at the eager contestants who've come to the Big Apple to win big bucks on Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? The hit show -- soon to be broadcast three times a week, becoming actually impossible to miss -- has already dished out the main prize once, gifting lucky duck and momentary celebrity John Carpenter the largest single game-show sum in U.S. television history. The other big winner, of course, is ABC, which is pretty much guaranteed a sweeps victory for the first time in years. And then there's Regis, popping out of Kathie Lee's shadow, projecting the kind of sympathy and enthusiasm that nothing but a thousand mornings listening to Cody's exploits could have prepared him for. He has truly found his place at last. After all, this is a guy who was already so over-the-top in 1972 that Woody Allen cast him as himself on a mock game show in Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex . . . Philbin doesn't apologize for who he is -- charismatic! avuncular! loud! -- but just keeps putting it out there. And for the millions of Americans glued to their screens, that Philbin mystique is nearly as enthralling as a million dollars.
Ariel Levy

Derek Jeter
Air Apparent

He doesn't hit home runs, the Yankees argued when trying to squash the shortstop's salary last winter. Oh, yeah? Derek Jeter answered 24 times this summer, a career high. But he went deep without damaging his batting average (second in the American League) or his squeaky-clean reputation (opening the Turn 2 Foundation to fight teen substance abuse). This October, the 25-year-old sealed his image as a money player, in the best sense of the phrase, by tying a record for hits in consecutive postseason games as he collected his third world-championship ring in his first four seasons. Stats, though, don't express the growing grace in Jeter's game. This season, as other Yankees shed tears and sweat all around him, Jeter was the calm center, leaving the impression that we've seen only the beginnings of his talents. During the playoffs, standing in a Fenway Park dugout on a night too frigid for baseball, Jeter widened his green eyes as he took in the pregame scene. Then he popped up the steps and shouted "Wooooo! It's cold!" But the sound in his voice was pure joy. Off the field, Michael Jordan picked Jeter as among his Nike heirs. The next trend Jeter will set? He will soon become baseball's first $100 million man. "I don't think you can become complacent," Jeter says. "This is New York, man. If you don't do the job, they'll go get someone else." It's part of his charm that he actually believes that. It also lets us be the ones to say that there is no other Derek Jeter.
Chris Smith

Richard Gluckman
Master Builder

The story of Richard Gluckman bears a certain similarity to the story of SoHo: What worked for artists can be repurposed (at higher price points, of course) for the retail world -- as well as for a New York populace with an upwardly mobile taste level and a bank account to match. "My architecture comes directly out of my experiences with artists in the seventies and eighties," he explains; associated early with Donald Judd and Dan Flavin, Gluckman got his big break when the Dia Art Foundation asked him to renovate a former factory on then-desolate West 22nd Street into a permanent home for their work. "We lit the walls, floor to ceiling, edge to edge," he says. "It made the space interact with the artwork" -- and his white-walled, brightly lit, clean-lined look was born. Gluckman's interiors are now virtually Manhattan's signature style. In SoHo, it's hard to keep track of which spaces are his and which aren't; Helmut Lang's striking store was joined this year by Katayone Adeli's spare Bond Street flagship and Yves Saint Laurent's men's boutique. But despite muddying his hands with commerce, Gluckman's still passionate about art -- proof is on the corner of 24th Street and Eleventh Avenue, where the new Gagosian Gallery rises from a nondescript industrial building. "We're taking advantage of the 100-foot trusses, jacking them up and making a clerestory of plastic," he says of the translucent skylight, which glows at night like a beacon. "It's not often that you get to raise the roof."
Alexandra Lange

Joseph Bastianich
Mario Batali
The Italian Renaissance

You could trace their success to conventional origins: impeccable culinary training, authentic Italian bloodlines, dynastic connections to the food business. But with Joseph Bastianich and Mario Batali -- the master of the room and master of the kitchen, respectively, behind Babbo -- you'd be missing the key element: perfectionism. "We like to think about the details," Batali says, explaining their chemistry. As friends, they shared meals imagining the ideal restaurant. Since both were established in the business -- Bastianich comes from the family that owns Felidia and Batali has both Pó and his television show, Molto Mario -- "neither of us needed to make money," Bastianich explains. "So we just focused on the perfect incarnation of an Italian restaurant; everything else took care of itself." Their three-star culinary success in winning Americans over to exotic seafood and organ meats as well as their financial robustness (Bastianich says: "We probably make more money in restaurants than most people do") have led to Lupa Osteria Romana, a more casual venue that they share with a third partner, and Italian Wine Merchants, a wine store they recently opened off Union Square. A seafood restaurant is coming next year in the theater district. After that? "There is no four-star Italian restaurant in New York," Batali points out. "How would you do that?" Bastianich ponders, clearly already thinking through the answer.
Marion Maneker