Gwyneth Paltrow. Damn it, I’m already annoyed and all I did was type her name.
One time, a friend and I were playing Taboo and her name was the phrase we had to get each other to say. We didn’t even need the list of words we couldn’t say. My friend said, “We hate her,” and I snapped back, “Gwyneth Paltrow.” Talk about the easiest Taboo point ever.
It took me a really long time to figure out why I don’t like her, but I think I finally got it: she has no balls. Think of an actress with balls (Tilda Swinton, Cate Blanchett, Kate Winslet, Frances McDormand, etc.). These are great actresses who aren’t afraid to make us wince, to make themselves into ugly people on camera-they go places most of us can’t fathom, and they do it without hesitation. Now compare them to Gwyneth Paltrow. What does Gwyneth do to make you think? When has she gotten down and dirty and really laid herself bare? She hasn’t, and she won’t. I don’t believe she can.
GP is the dilettante who gets mistaken for the PhD. Let’s examine her acting chops, starting with her so-called Oscar winning role in Shakespeare in Love. Okay, so she put on a fake moustache, swooned a bit, and sighed romantically in a ridiculous British accent with vowels as loose as Karl Lagerfeld’s old pants (and there are people who agree with me). Big whoop. Any high school Heidi playing Viola could do what she did in that movie.
Iron Man? Please. She was stiffer than a Brit’s upper lip during WWII, and as frigid as a cryogenically preserved Simon Powell. No spark, no life, dead-eyed all the way through. This woman has no idea how to have fun on camera, to be less than serious. Compare her with Anne Hathaway in Get Smart or Kate Winslet in Titanic or Charlize Theron in Hancock. Real actresses in action-oriented movies who do more than furrow a brow or blink stupidly at the camera. Yes, Gwyneth, it can be done.
Additional entries in the GP catalog of failure: Possession, Plath, The Royal Tenenbaums, Great Expectations, View from the Top, Emma, Sliding Doors. Box office winners all.
I honestly think GP is pathologically incapable of playing a woman who is fearless, invulnerable, hated, or unshakable. She doesn’t know what these things are. Instead, she has to constantly beg the audience for affirmation. She has to be the pretty one, the adorably confused one, the tragic one, the woman who needs to be sheltered, loved, protected, coddled, cosseted, etc. Could you imagine her playing Charlize Theron’s character in Monster? Or Hilary Swank’s in Boys Don’t Cry? Or Jennifer Jason Leigh’s in Rush? She couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t know how.
There is no fire in this woman. She has no real passion, and so she can’t act the part of any woman who does. Instead, she simpers, whines, or pouts because that’s what she knows. Love me! Look at me! Adore me! Admire me! Validate me! Respect me! My question to her would be: why?
She talks a lot about being devastated by losing her father. Okay, that’s valid. It sucks. No one wants to lose a parent. But guess what? Millions upon millions of people do it every day. And get over it. And stop obsessing. They grieve, and love, and move on. They don’t yap about it for 10 years, because you know what? People with real lives have to go on living them. There are problems more pressing than what to wear to a premiere.
SPEAKING OF WHICH, what’s up with those hoo-ha baring outfits she showed up in this past summer? COVER THAT SHIT UP. I just want to shake her and say, “You’re old, but you have decent legs. I get it. But can you please make your desperate need for media coverage a little less obvious? A soft-rock husband and millions in the bank just don’t satisfy you? My corneas are STILL recovering from that Stella McCartney black doily dress thing…anyone who told you it looked good lied like a rug, and shame on you for not knowing it. I mean, really, honey…did you look in the mirror at all that night? Did you think we all really just needed to see your underwear? You have kids. There’s such a thing as the Internet. Think this shit out a little better.”
SPEAKING OF WHICH, what’s up with her website? It’s called GOOP, which coincidentally rhymes with POOP. This piece of shit advises me to “nourish the inner aspect.” Aspect of what? This isn’t even a complete thought. I hope she’s not homeschooling her kids, because they’re going to grow up saying things like, “Rehabilitate the within.”
What in holy hell qualifies her to give anyone advice on cooking, shopping, or life in general? Anyone with houses, cars, nannies, trust funds, and an upper east side pedigree really shouldn’t pretend she’s anything like me. I’d really love to share an amazing paella recipe I discovered while backpacking with Mario Batali in Catalonia, too, but you know…I sort of have to work for a living, and I sort of have a mortgage to pay, and it would really just be a whole lot more helpful if someone told me how to get dog drool stains out of satin.
A lot of people have come down hard on her for the sheer ridiculousness of this website. She snapped back by saying that anyone who criticizes her website just “doesn’t get it” and if “they got it,” they wouldn’t criticize it. Does that also apply to Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow, GP? If she were a teacher, is this what she’d say to her students? “You just don’t get it….if you got it, you’d be a better student.” If people aren’t getting the point, perhaps it’s because (a) there isn’t one, or (b) she’s a nutjob who can’t communicate usefully. My guess? (c) all of the above.