Word: theron
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...Charlize Theron is drunk as a skunk and strapping on a parachute. "Too much altitude, ma'am!" says the pilot. "You'll surely die!" Theron, lovely in a black Versace gown and hot pink Manolo Blahnik mules, cares not one bit. She secures her parachute as she steps onto the wing, gives the pilot the finger and takes the plunge...
...right, that first paragraph was one big lie. But it's already a journalistic tradition to make Charlize Theron (the last name rhymes with heron) sound sexy, sassy and adventurous. Ever since her breakthrough role as Helga, the Teutonic man killer in the 1996 shoot-'em-up flick 2 Days in the Valley, magazines and newspapers have delighted in telling her story: how she modeled and danced her way off a farm in South Africa, how a bad knee ended her ballet career, how she was discovered by a Hollywood talent manager in a bank. Despite a large body...
...played by Mark Wahlberg would not seem to be short on glamour: his mother is Ellen Burstyn; his aunt is Faye Dunaway; the girl he left behind is Charlize Theron. But he and the movie do lack drama. This all-star study in blue-collar venality (remember Cop Land?) is both speech- and sight-impaired: the dialogue is all mumbles and whispers; the palette dabbles in blacks and dark browns. The film is so muted it disappears from your view even before it recedes from your memory...
...Last week, I thought I had left Hollywood when I boarded a plane at LAX and landed in Amarillo, Texas. Since my upcoming rollicking profile of Charlize Theron (Hollywood is also where you're allowed to shamelessly plug) wasn't due until this week, I had taken a brief hiatus from my showbiz beat to chronicle the latest troubling chapter in America's drug war. In the summer of 1999, 43 residents of Tulia, Texas - a dry little town of less than 5,000 people in the windswept panhandle - were arrested for dealing cocaine. It was the most ambitious drug...
Last Sunday afternoon, like everyone else in Los Angeles, I went on strike. I staged the walkout on the second floor of Fred Segal, the colorful Melrose emporium where hipsters like Charlize Theron and Michael Stipe roam among the Oliver Peoples sunglasses, Kate Spade luggage and the kinds of clothes made possible by perfect physiques and first-dollar gross participation. I went because Fred Segal was having a sale. "Up to 75 percent off!" they promised. A white shirt on a sale rack caught my eye. I liked it because the fabric weave contained nearly indiscernible but daring white circles...