Not her youth, mind you – she was too busy palling around with people like JFK Jr., and the like, but you get the general idea. She’s living vicariously through someone that existed in the eighties and nineties who may or may not have been much cooler, and she’s taking advantage of the benefits of casting directors who need their eyes checked and can’t distinguish a “bright, fresh-faced twentysomething” for an “aging, barefaced early-fortysomething.”
The look (I’m hoping, anyway, because I’m hearing that this is how she actually SHOWED UP to the set of her new movie) is for a new film, Thanks for Sharing, which centers around three people being treated for sex addiction. And in that getup, she looks like one of the addicted, rather than a self-involved, hoity-toity doctor who treats them.
How about it?
October 13, 2011 at 5:30 pm by Sarah
Poor, wonderful Maurice Sendak. The author-illustrator of countless, timeless children’s books (Where the Wild Things Are, say, or Chicken Soup with Rice) is, at age 83, still hard at work. His latest, Bumble-Ardy, was published last month.
Last month, NPR broadcast a poignant interview with Maurice Sendak on Fresh Air and, at least among his friends, he’s jovial and lively. Listening to Sendak, it turns out, is a perfect way to spend 20 spare minutes. Only near that interview’s end did Sendak become even remotely gloomy or dour. He spoke of loss: “I cry a lot because I miss people. They die and I can’t stop them,” he told NPR’s Terry Gross. “They leave me and I love them more.”
But he recently gave a very, very different interview to The Guardian (via Jezebel and Vulture). It isn’t an altogether dour interview; Sendak maintains a certain conviviality, I guess, even as he describes the contempt he has for, um, pretty much everybody.
But by the Guardian interview’s brutal conclusion—and “brutal” is the word, because most of his insults are lobbed rapid-fire, right at the end of the conversation—Maurice Sendak has become so cartoonishly cantankerous, I was genuinely flicking little tears away from my eyes:
And with that he’s off again. Of Salman Rushdie, who once gave him a terrible review in the New York Times, he says: “That flaccid f—khead. He was detestable. I called up the Ayatollah, nobody knows that.” Roald Dahl: “The cruelty in his books is off-putting. Scary guy. I know he’s very popular but what’s nice about this guy? He’s dead, that’s what’s nice about him.” Stephen King: “Bullsh—t.” Gwyneth Paltrow: “I can’t stand her.”
Whoa, hey now! What?
And then that’s it! No further explanation! Why, Mr. Sendak? Why all the cattiness for Gwyneth!
Image via the Guardian.
October 5, 2011 at 5:30 am by Jenn
The photo’s caption, yanked from Lenny’s Twitter?:
“The only person in the world that calls me Leonard.”
LOL. Of course it’d be her. And what, pray tell, do you think they’re drinking? And what are they drinking? Is that another bottle of fine, aged, gilded angel piss to delicately imbibe upon? If it is, Lenny, you better put your pinky up, bitch. I’m flat-out scared for you if you don’t.
September 21, 2011 at 6:30 am by Sarah
“I am a great romantic – but I also think you can be a romantic and a realist. Life is complicated and long and I know people that I respect and admire and look up to who have had extra-marital affairs. It’s like we’re flawed – we’re human beings and sometimes you make choices that other people are going to judge. That’s their problem but I really think that the more I live my life the more I learn not to judge people for what they do. I think we’re all trying our best but life is complicated.”
Really, you guys, do you get what Gwyneth is doing here? She’s judging people for being judgey, and then she reminds us that she’s still better than us, this time because she doesn’t think cheating on your spouse is all that bad. It’s almost too much, it really is.
September 8, 2011 at 4:30 am by Emily
“I liked all that gory stuff. For the seizure scene, I had to bite on a little Alka-Seltzer and foam at the mouth. It was fun. … If death by virus was a punishment for extra-marital affairs there would only be three dudes left in this world right now. Maybe less, because we’re in Italy.”
The seizure bit is all relative to her new movie, Contagion, and the cheating-dude comment came up when an interviewer asked her if the virus was punishment for being an unfaithful wife (I guess her character cheats on her husband, who’s played by the very lucky Matt Damon this time around). I’m assuming that the only three faithful men she’s speaking of include her husband, Chris Martin, and two other guys that she dated exclusively, because BITCH PLEASE, who in their right mind would ever, ever cheat on the not-at-all ridiculous Gwyneth Paltrow?
September 5, 2011 at 7:30 am by Sarah
“… I still refuse to use silicone, Botox or other of those gimmicks … [It's] pure vanity. But a breast correction after breast feeding — why not? There’s actually nothing else to restore the original condition, isn’t there?”
So what Gwynnie‘s telling you guys is that it’s OK if you want some shady doctor to slice your bewbs open like filet of chicken and stuff extra-tough water balloons in the bloody, gaping hole that’s left, but it’s vanity – total vanity, bitches – to have a needle stuck in the middle of your forehead.
I’m not saying that there is no other reconstruction for boobs available after breastfeeding, but endorsing one thing and blasting something so similar that it’s almost laughable? Is just … Well, it’s typical Gwyneth, I guess.
Dear Lord, is there no end to the madness?