She most certainly was asked questions about Heath Ledger, which she answered. Her one-on-one interview lasted one hour, not three. Directed and co-written by Derek Cianfrance, the film co-stars Ryan Gosling, who is so good so often he has become reliably brilliant. That has the sound of mundanity about it, but for a movie actor as handsome as he who no doubt is pushed daily to commit his talent to the crassest of commercial movies, it is the rarest of accolades.
It is Williams, however, who is a revelation. Not since Gena Rowlands roiled the s with those lacerating parts given to her by her husband, John Cassavetes, has an actress put such rigor into a role that we half expect a rip in the screen to appear. In San Francisco, the critics have already given her the award as Best Actress. Together, it is Williams and Gosling who are gracing movie screens this winter with the truest of pas de deux.
Goosy and gorgeous as they fall in love as young innocents, they are, years later, pulvinated with the bile and venom that love can curdle into when a couple collapses in on itself. There is a gracefulness even to their fighting and desolation as we watch their marriage dissolve before our eyes in a narrative span of days. Indeed, grace is a word that comes to mind when thinking of Williams as a woman as well as an actress. She and Ledger had broken up before he died from an accidental overdose of prescription drugs in , but so many still consider her, because of Matilda, his widow.
All that extra flesh ironically made me feel less nude. Williams is a big reader of poetry and collects first editions of books—one of her prized possessions is a first edition of The Great Gatsby—so I foraged around in the poetry stacks of a used-book store near her house in Brooklyn and found a first-edition Ferlinghetti to give her as well as a selection of poems by my first mentor in New York City, the late Howard Moss, who for 40 years was the poetry editor of The New Yorker.
As we settled onto the sofa in front of the fireplace on the second floor of the house she had shared with Heath in their happier days, I presented her with her gifts. A gasp escaped her as she saw the Howard Moss book. There was one tear. Then there were two. But that was all. She flicked them away. It was her smile that now registered such wonder. This is so odd. This has been in my mind so much recently. This is a poem that I only remembered its effect on me.
I just could remember its first four lines: As a torn paper might seal up its side, Or a streak of water stitch itself to silk, And disappear, my wound has been my healing, And I am made more beautiful by losses. I have been looking for this poem for so long. Thank Howard and Heath. I was just their messenger.
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We will not share your email with anyone for any reason. I think of it as circles—concentric circles that connect. This just proves it to me. There are certain things that replay themselves in my subconscious without my asking them to be there and those lines from that poem are an example. I needed some new ones. Not that there is anything wrong with their worlds, but I needed a couple of new ones. I love those lines from Mark Strand: There is no happiness like mine. I have been eating poetry.
But sometimes I do have nightmares. Is it hard to live in the world of this house? Are there just too many memories everywhere? This is a lived-in house. There are seven people living here at the moment. You could live here if you want. We have a very open-door policy. How was your Christmas? Did Matilda have good one? We had a really good one. She wrote two letters to Santa the night before.
That must be as big a deal for you as it is for her. Did you read that Malcolm Gladwell book, Outliers? Outliers would say wait. Hold her back a year. So there is an argument for my waiting to put her in first grade. Michelle talks about Heath's death on Nightline, December We were talking earlier today about your having left your private Christian school in ninth grade and graduating from high school by correspondence course when you were 16, which was also around the same time you sued to emancipate yourself from your parents.
When I hung out with Heath in Prague for a week to do that first cover story on him for Vanity Fair years ago, he told me he felt as if he had divorced his own parents in a way when he left Perth for Sydney when he was still a teenager. You had that in common with him. You said though that you had once defined yourself by that emancipation but you no longer did. How do you define yourself now?
Talk about poetic ironies. As a mother, when you look at your child are you able now to see only the joy her father brought into your life, or do you still see a bit of the sadness when you catch a glimpse of him looking back at you sometimes from her eyes? How do I talk about this? I experienced a lot of loss after his death.
I lost my city because of all the paparazzi descending upon us. I actually lost my journal during that time, oddly enough. It felt as if things were literally slipping through my fingers.
Things were just streaming away from me. I lost my sense of humor. I know this is difficult to discuss. We can move on if you wan. I wish I could just have this conversation with Kevin and Michelle because I know from our other conversations and from your memoir how much you know about loss and grief.
Just recently I felt as if I did cross a line about all this. The two do go together. I just had an experience with Nightline that got edited in such a way that seemed as if I did go too far. It was a three-hour interview that was edited in such a way that was devastating to me. I mean, I am still such the-good-girl. I want everybody to like me. I want everybody to be happy. I want to please people. Then they used those few quotes and the way they edited the piece to sell the interview, and it appeared as if I were breaking some kind of silence and sitting down with the express purpose to discuss something that is very private to me.
I will close myself off as a torn paper might seal up its side or a streak of water stitch itself to silk. So it is a struggle. Blue Valentine initially got an NC rating because, it is reported, of the cunnilingus scene before it was changed to an R on appeal. And yet Black Swan has a cunnilingus scene and it only got an R rating from the first. Laughing Talk about lightening up.
I think maybe it was because her scene was more about a fantasy and mine was more about reality. Plus, your character lets out a whoop of enjoyment. Yeah, maybe it all comes down to my finding the pleasure in it. Did you find pleasure in your nude scenes? You are so thin and have such a great haircut.
Did you put on any extra pounds or have any padding in certain areas to portray Marilyn Monroe in your next film, My Week With Marilyn?
Clark claims to have had an affair with her after her husband at the time, Arthur Miller, left her alone in London to make the movie. Kenneth Branagh as Olivier. Eddie Redmayne is playing Colin Clark. I hope this time you get to suck some dick instead of getting your pussy eaten.