Amen to all that. She has also been forthcoming about her youthful sorrows, mistakes, tragedies. She had a tough childhood with an alcoholic father and a mother who committed suicide, a horrible a-hole of a first husband (Roger Vadim), many, many ups and downs and failures as well as triumphs.

Yes, they do watch the films, especially if it’s the official premiere. In that case, it’s the first chance for actors to see how the movie turned out after editing.

Redford 4ever. Recently Netflixed Little Fauss and Big Halsy—a crazy-good little movie he made in the early ‘70s where he plays a redneck-ish, boozing motorcycle racer who goes around screwing everyone. Damn, he was fine. Such good actor, too. Small little gestures and things.

The photos and videos from the Tate/LaBianca trial sealed their fate. They were giggling, singing, shouting obscenities. I could never understand what the hell was going on with them during the trial—at that point they had been in jail for a year, off drugs, had limited (if any?) contact with Mason. How were still so…

He’s vampire on his mother’s side.

I realize rock & roll is dead! dead! dead! but seriously, must every “live” performance these days be lip-synched against the backdrop of a three-ring circus/Vegas show with 100 back-up dancers doing flips through hoops of fire?

I feel like he purposefully dresses like a Boris Yeltsin-era kielbasa merchant from Novosibirsk to distract from the unique, powerful fug he’s got going on.

Also suing for trademark infringement: Chicken Korma.

The one on the left must be the smart one. I am basing this assumption on the gigantic size of her head.

Wonderful idea! Except for a few teensy-tiny tweaks: Instead of a contemporary global setting, the plot unfurls in a turn-of-the-last century Ukrainian shtetl, instead of fantasy techno-gadgets it features very clever sheep who pun in Yiddish, and Gal Gadot plays not an MI6 spy but a sassy broomstick who beats czarist…

See, I saw pathological grandiosity—not so much confidence but a potent whiff of the Ted Bundy sickness.

“Call her what you will”

The first time around, he wrote for Defamer 1.0 and and was hilarious. The second time around, he got fired for calling Kanye West the n word in a headline.

Your comment intrigued me enough to look up the promo. The “eeeeee!” sounds like that high-register, piercing female singing from classical Indian music. Maybe it’s a sample they used of an actual singer or they created the sound via Autotune.

Well stated. The “no designer would dress me!” tales of woe lie by omission. The poor dears omit to say they want freebies!

“This is no bottom.”

“I’m on my lunch break, you can pause your killing until I finish this burger.”

Learned psychotic behavior can be unlearned; born psychopaths can’t really change. The NYT magazine had a super-intriguing piece about the current research in the field of child psychopathy. The conclusion seems to be that even with sustained behavioral therapy, began fairly early in childhood, medication, etc.,…

Really old French/Norman name, originally pronounced “Ghi.”

The “Mike” of my youth was a kid every chick in my freshman year dorm (including moi) was pining after. He wore hole-y cable-knit sweaters, smoked cloves and carried a copy of Rimbaud’s poems in his back pocket. Quick-witted and in possession of soft brown curls and endearing habit (methought at the time) to…