Monday, 31 March 2014

Has Gwyneth Paltrow Unconsciously Uncoupled Herself From The Entire World?

There are two sets of guidelines that make a movie star and you either follow one of them or the other.
You're an enigma or you're an open book. You're aloof or you're down to earth. You're iconic or you're approachable. You're certifiably insane or you never speak out loud in public.
Stray from these boundaries or try and coast along in the middle of the road and you're heading for a career disaster, and it's going to be huge. Even bigger than the iceberg that sank the Titanic and launched Kate Winslet's career.
Poor Gwyneth Paltrow.
Once the beacon of all that was glossy, shiny and beautiful about Hollywood but now the flickering candle of all that is wrong and wretched with those that live within its glare.
It's not been easy for her of late. She's suffering from the curse of too much money, too much fame, too much smugness and too much macrobiotic diet.
Not content with alienating her (Apple) core fan base by stating it would be easier if she was a working mother working a 9-5 job, she also evoked and encouraged rumours of diva like behaviour by trying (and succeeding) to stop the publishing of a supposedly scandalous profile of her in Vanity Fair.
In Gwyneth's case it seems that not all publicity is good publicity.
Her website 'Goop' states that 'for many, Goop has become their most trusted girlfriend on the web', but in reality Gwyneth speaks down to and looks upon those many 'girlfriends' like she's Marie Antoinette at a Pilate's class and her public are the peasants at the Palace gates.
Although instead of letting them eat cake, she believes this bunch of plebs are only hungry for a dish of slow-cooked Kale, Pancetta and Breadcrumbs.
And that's fine, if she just kept to that image.
She herself said:
"I am who I am. I can't pretend to be somebody who makes $25,000 a year"
and that's exactly how we like to think of our movie stars. Living a fantasy life of excess and glamour, popping pills and dripping diamonds, knocking back shots of tequila and knocking out paparazzi with a spike heel and a fist full of dollars.
But she then ruins the whole thing by saying:
"when I pass a flowering zucchini plant in a garden, my heart skips a beat".

I mean seriously Gwyneth? A Zucchini makes your heart skip a beat? Imagine what a vial full of propofol or a pipe full of crack would do? That's the stuff that real stars are made of. Zucchini's and butternut squash are for the featherweights and the boring. Although to be fair, she did once say out loud to a bemused interviewer:
"I'd rather smoke crack than eat cheese from a tin."

Does cheese even come in a tin?
It must be hard for Ms Paltrow to function in a normal way. Even a marriage to Chris Martin and a friendship with Beyonce and Jay Z couldn't elevate her to the realms of aspirational edginess or crank up her coolness. You'll never fit in at a Hollywood orgy if the only thing on your mind is:
"It's what makes life interesting, finding the balance between cigarettes and tofu"
and you'll never endear yourself to the general public or the Hollywood elite by declaring:
"Even actresses that you really admire, like Reese Witherspoon, you think, 'Another romantic comedy?' You see her in something like Walk the Line and think, 'God, you're so great!' And then you think, 'Why is she doing these stupid romantic comedies?' But of course, it's for money and status."

Gwyneth Paltrow is a conundrum, caught up in a riddle, wrapped in some organic rice paper and then lightly toasted over a crystal meth pipe in a $25 million home in the Hollywood Hills. Is there anyone that understands her, empathises with her or with all those ridiculously self-righteous quotes ever wants to hear another word from her again?
For someone who once held an Oscar in her hands and made an (hilariously embarrassing) emotional speech in a Ralph Lauren ball gown we'd expect histrionics, drama and self absorbed craziness and that's exactly what we've got. Except she's morphed into some kind of schizophrenic earth mother who can't decide if she wants to have Botox or bake homemade bread.
The final (false) nail in the (biodegradable) coffin of her public persona came with her announcement of her conscious uncoupling from Chris Martin.
I initially thought she was talking about falling unconscious after undergoing some cupping (another one of her ways to live a better life) but no, she's consciously uncoupling from Chris who fronts Coldplay, and that's more than I can get my tongue twisted around. It would have been so much easier to understand if she'd said 'we're splitting up but staying friends'.
I can't remember the last movie I ever saw her in but I do wonder if playing and winning the Oscar for the role of Viola de Lesseps in 'Shakespeare in Love' may have caused her to speak in some kind of dialect that only she can understand?
And on that Shakespearean note I shall leave you with probably the last time she spoke anything of any sense:
"Nurse, as I love you and you love me, you will bind my breast and buy me a boy's wig".

Follow Daniel Warner on Twitter: www.twitter.com/picnicdontpanic

1 comment:

  1. great article... I am finding her recent relationship status a total yawn-fest and find it hard to keep my rages in check when I read stuff about her... I think people tire very quickly of the wealthy healthy white voice of privilege... moaning about how good your life is has never been an easy thing to take seriously. She should shut up now and go away.

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