Skip to main content

J-Law

Here’s everything that fascinates me about Jennifer Lawrence right now.

(1) She dropped out of middle school (early high school?) because she felt she wasn’t very smart. But she identified one skill that she felt set her apart. That had to do with reading. When she read a novel or story, she found she could construct a psychological profile for each character. She knew what made the characters tick; she could envision how their mannerisms would look; she could anticipate what they would do next. (This is simply good reading--but proficient actors are, at base, exceptionally strong readers. They take the reading skills that the rest of us have, and they just amp up those skills. An acquaintance, the actress Zoe Kazan, once said that being a performer was just another way of being a literary scholar. I see that in Liz Merriweather, too--the head writer for “New Girl.” When I was in college, she would perform on-stage, and you’d just see her melt into the character. The lines of distinction between acting and reading--and between acting and writing--aren’t always very visible. Another actress who has described acting as an extension of her avid reading: Julianne Moore. And Broadway’s Jessie Mueller has said she struggled in English class because she would take the time to inhabit each character. And so she wouldn’t get her work done.)

(2) Lawrence has said, once she decided to act, “failure was not an option.” I think part of her extraordinary talent comes from a sense of “outsider” status. And her celebrated candor seems--to me, at least--to come from a genuine sense of being alien-ish, peering at the human world. Well, it’s partly that. Then there’s a great deal of political shrewdness, which she just seems to possess. She seems to have been born with it.

(3) Lawrence has panic attacks on planes--not because she fears the plane will go down, but because she fears she will crawl out of her own skin and “externalize” her craziness. She fears *she herself* will bring down the plane. And so the fear is--at least partly--just a fear of embarrassment.

(4) Lawrence is skilled with “ordinary person” obsessions. So she says she spends a great deal of time thinking about Kim Kardashian. This scores Lawrence points: “J-Law, you’re just like us!” It subverts boring, snooty expectations: “Should an Oscar-winning actress be gabbing about her Kardashian obsession?” (Much of the fun of the Lawrence persona is a sense of “de-familiarization”: You have an idea of how a top-tier actress should be, and Lawrence doesn’t fit the mold, and so you have a momentary sense of wonder reawakened in your soul. Well, you do--if you are the person typing this piece.) Additionally, Lawrence’s Kardashian fixation seems authentic and intellectual: You can tell she’s analyzing Kardashian as a performance artist, wondering about the actual workings of the sibling relationships, in contrast with the way the sibling relationships are played out on screen. This is Lawrence the Student of Human Behavior. The same thing applies to Lawrence’s Taylor Swift/Karlie Kloss fixation. Like all of us, Lawrence wants to know what is going on simply because good gossip is good gossip. But there’s also an interest in the construction of political narratives: If there *was* a Kloss/Swift falling out, then who is controlling the press? Why the weird, tantalizing *hints* of dissent within the Kloss persona? (The “Swish Swish” tweet, the appearance with a Kardashian.) Why not either (a) bluntly admit the problem or (b) manage the fiction more smoothly?

(5) Lawrence maintains her friendship with Amy Schumer. We were all worried, for a while. It seems like we might not get the Lawrence/Schumer sister comedy once promised to us. But at least we know Lawrence attended the Schumer wedding. I like to imagine the melding of these two big and iconoclastic brains. (And I’m tired of the PC response to Schumer’s previews for “I Feel Pretty.” It’s a movie. It makes the apparently audacious claim that Schumer’s character might have reason to want to alter her appearance, in some slight ways. Good grief. Lefty gay commentators, such as Adam Goldman, need to calm the fuck down. I continue to admire Schumer’s chutzpah.)

*** "Red Sparrow" is out today--and, as I anticipated, there’s already one appreciative piece about Mary-Louise Parker’s apparently nutty ten-minute performance. Lawrence and Parker--together at last! My heart is--at least mildly--a-flutter!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel  Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in  Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's  Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...

Joshie

  When I was growing up, a class birthday involved Hostess cupcakes. Often, the cupcakes would come in a shoebox, so you could taste a leathery residue (during the party). Times change. You can't bring a treat into a public school, in 2024, because heaven knows what kind of allergies might lurk, in unseen corners, in the classroom. But Joshua's teacher will allow: a dance party, a pajama day, or a guest reader. I chose to bring a story for Joshua's birthday (observed), but I didn't think through the role that anxiety might play in this interaction. We talk, in this house, quite a bit about anxiety; one game-changer, for J, has been a daily list of activities, so that he knows exactly what to expect. He gets a look of profound satisfaction when he sees the agenda; it doesn't really matter what the specific events happen to be. It's just about knowing, "I can anticipate X, Y, and Z." Joshua struggled with his celebration. He wore his nervousness on his f...

Josh at Five

 Joshie's project is "flexibility"; the goal is to see that a plan is just an idea, not a gospel, not a guarantee. This is difficult. Yesterday, we went to a restaurant--billed as "open," with unlocked doors--and the owner informed us of an "error in advertising." But Joshie couldn't accept the word "closed." He threw himself on the floor, then climbed on the furniture. I felt for the owner, until he nervously made a reference to "the glass windows." He imagined that my child might toss himself through a sealed window, like Mary Katherine Gallagher, or like Bruce Willis, in "Die Hard." Then--thank the Lord!--I was able to laugh. The thing that really has therapeutic value for Joshie is: a firetruck. If we are out in public, and he spots a parked truck, he wants to climb on each surface. He breathlessly alludes to the wheels, the door, the windows. If an actual fire station ("fire ocean," in Joshie's parla...