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#you made him a separate character from Harvey. now fucking treat him like a character and not a Spooky Plot Device.
strangestcase · 3 years
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Big Bad Harv: *breathes*
DC writers: I hate you, you’re ugly, you’re disgusting, I’m gonna kill you. Give me 200 dollars.
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3000wordsandnolife · 6 years
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Countdown To Midnight- Chapter 3
It’s literally been the 2nd for three hours for me, but fuck it, I didn’t put anything out yesterday because I was busy doing other projects (AKA nothing at all except trying to write with severe writer’s block and learning how good Gorillaz are)
I doubt I would have woken so soon, had the foreign bed sheets not caused me to fall flat onto my face, rousing me from my quite peaceful nap.
“I hate my life.” I murmured to myself, before pushing myself off of my front, rolling onto my side. I sat up, and looked around the room for some kind of way to see the time.
There was what looked like a clock on a table with a large mirror protruding from it. I had no idea what they were called, since I had never used one myself. All I knew is that they were quite common in bedrooms, so it didn’t surprise me that there was one here. I sat down in the chair, staring at myself, who looked back at me with a tired expression on her face, as if asking me honestly, why do you even try anymore? It was a question I wouldn’t answer, and, if I was being quite honest, I didn’t even know how to answer. Why did anyone try? Shrugging these thoughts off, I examined myself. There was a slight mark on my forehead from where I had hit the ground, but apart from that, I was fine. I glanced over at the clock as I did so, then quickly darted my eyes back to it, refusing to believe what I had seen. The time was 7PM! I had managed to sleep for nearly seven god damn hours! I quickly went over to my suitcase, and got out a change of clothes. I wasn’t about to look like a slob, that’d probably ruin the image I had made for myself. As I stripped off my sleep-creased clothing, I caught a view of myself in the mirror, and I was reminded of the cotton pad on my side, the only thing to show that I had been shot. I was then reminded of how well I was taking the whole being shot thing. Maybe I was getting used to this line of work after all. I slipped a t-shirt and jeans on, grabbed a loose jacket and swung it over my shoulder, before I zipped the case back up and sauntered out, as if I had intended to be as late as I most likely was for dinner. It was when I stepped into the elevator that I first realised something felt weird. The elevator hadn’t moved at all since I had used it to come upstairs seven hours earlier. Not one single person had needed to nip to their room to check anything, not one staff member had been to the floor since I had gone up? I shrugged it off, attributing it to coincidence, or maybe just that everyone had used the stairs instead. Unfortunately, the next events made me realise that it was no coincidence at all. I stepped back into the lobby, and quickly noticed the lack of… anything. There were no staff members, no guests, nothing. I checked around, glancing through hallways and corridors, but there was no one to be seen anywhere in the darkened halls. Suddenly feeling quite nervous and sickly, I decided to step outside for some fresh air. This plan was quickly stopped in its tracks as I saw the metal covering blocking off the door. The blast shielding, or whatever it was. A giant wall of metal. Okay, now I was beginning to panic. I forced myself to stay calm, and try and see if there was anyone else in the hotel. Closing my eyes, and blocking out the dark, worrying thoughts, I realised that, very faintly, I could hear people talking. From the sound of it, it was coming from the dining room, so I turned my body and started walking to the double doors that separated the two rooms.  
“Oh, so it looks like you didn’t get out after all. Shame.” Claire’s voice was the first thing I heard as I walked into the room, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I realised I wasn’t trapped in here with a load of angry, murderous staff members and caterers that had decided to snap after one too many snobby guests treated them like- wait a minute, what did she say? I replayed the words in my head, and realised that she was talking about getting out.
“Claire, are we… trapped?” I breathed out, suddenly worrying a lot more than I had been. I had assumed there would be at least one way out.  
“It would appear so, Miss Harvey. From what we’ve checked, there are only us sixteen guests in the hotel. No clue where the staff have buggered off to.” Melvin spoke up, feverishly writing down notes on the paper.  
“That’s not all, Rose. Come look over here.” Aaron called me over, and I joined him and Den at the bar, where a laptop was sat in front of them. “We found it here when we woke up. We’ve tried pushing all of the buttons, but it’s just stayed on standby.” Aaron sighed and looked at his frankly garish drink, spinning it around slightly with a straw. “Den thinks that whoever’s trapped us in here is going to send us a message through it.”  
“Hold on, did you say you woke up? What happened down here?” I asked, interrupting his explanation. Aaron looked up, as if he was suddenly realising something.
“Oh right, you went to your room, didn’t you? You probably just napped and thought nothing of it, right?” As Aaron correctly guessed what had happened, I nodded in agreement. “We didn’t have that luxury. Den decided against going up, since we might as well have stayed together, we would have gone up soon enough anyway. We were just chatting, when before you know it, we were falling asleep, to wake up about ten minutes ago. Den thinks we were poisoned.” Den spoke up, having heard his name be mentioned for the second time in a short window of time.  
“Well of course! Whoever’s behind this wanted to knock us out so that all the workers could leave or be disposed of, but the guests were still kept around, since they will have eaten the food!” Den exclaimed. Honestly, everything was beginning to get a little confusing.  
“Wait, what do you mean by whoever’s behind this? Surely it’s just some sort of quarantine accident or something?” I asked, before realising that of course there had to be a mastermind. This was way too unusual for it to be sheer coincidence. Well, at least it added to my character.  
“There’s definitely a mastermind, possibly one of the guests here.” Den said, before sharing a glance with Aaron. They clearly had someone in mind, and knowing the two of them from my brief interactions, I was pretty sure I knew who it was. To be honest, Jim definitely seemed like a fair choice as to who was responsible. He certainly had the temperament to capture a load of people that had pissed him off. But still, something as big as this would have taken a lot of careful planning, something he was definitely incapable of. “God knows what that sick bastard wants to do with sixteen people trapped in a hotel.” Den muttered. As if on cue, the screen flickered to life, and Den and Aaron jumped away, taken aback by the sudden activity, while everyone else in the room looked over, suddenly interested. The screen showed nothing but a shaking line, which was clearly an audio waveform, something I deduced as it moved with the voice that played from it.
“Well I’m so glad you asked!” The voice played, garbled from the obvious modulator that was being used to disguise the identity. “Honestly, I was wondering how long it would take someone to ask about the motive, that’s really the only thing I care about, you know! You know, since it’s my reason for doing this and all.” The voice sent shivers down my spine, the clear mirth coming from his words creating an atmosphere of pure terror. “This is the beginning of the game! And you lot were all chosen to play it! Honestly, I’m glad it ended up being sixteen of you, any more than that and it would have never worked quite as well!”
“Who the hell are you?!” I shouted at the screen, not really expecting a response, since it was clearly a recor-
“I’m that mastermind you were looking for! Congrats, you solved the mystery! Let’s hope you can keep that up!” The voice suddenly responded, shocking me. “Oh, don’t look like that, do you really expect me to use a pre-recorded message for something as important as the inaugural speech!” I wasn’t quite sure inaugural was the right word to use, but I wasn’t about to point it out.   “What do you mean, keep it up? What are we doing trapped in here?” I asked, quizzing the voice, speaking up while no one else would.   “Well, to explain that part, I need to make sure everyone’s here to hear me. Is everyone gathered around, kids? Storytime’s beginning!” Slowly and nervously, all the guests crowded around the laptop, as the voice waited patiently. “Alright, is the whole class here? Goodie! Now we can begin!” The waveform disappeared, showing a schematic of the hotel. “From here on out, until I say so, you are trapped in the hotel. A lockdown has officially taken place, and no one from the outside will be able to get in, either!” Numerous symbols, the easily recognisable ones for the various ways of communication, such as Wi-Fi and mobile, popped up on the screen, quickly blocked off by a circle with a line through it. “The building’s got a huge jammer for mobile signals, and the phone and internet lines have been cut off. No contact with anyone outside until the game’s over!”  
“You still haven’t explained, what the hell is this game?” Aaron piped up, as the group murmured in agreement. While I agreed that I wanted to know, there was part of me that was dreading finding out what this so-called game was going to entail.
“Good job, Aaron, asking all the right questions! Indeed, you don’t know what the game is, do you? Well fear not, I’m here to explain it all to you!” The picture of the hotel was replaced by sixteen figures, one representing each of the guests in the hotel, with a clock displaying the time sat on the top of the screen. “You see, the game’s simple. The time is currently 25 minutes past 7PM. The main aspect of the game… is to make sure that the group has one less person before midnight.” It took a moment for the words to register, and another moment for me to realise exactly what that entailed.   “Hold on, you want us to kill someone?! What the hell?!” I exclaimed, taken aback and refusing to believe it.
“Got it in one, Harvey! You’re really giving Aaron a run for his money here!” The voice said in glee. “If you don’t want the entire hotel to be flooded with gas, then someone has to die before midnight! Honestly, I think the first night is going to be the hardest. You only have five hours to kill! At least with the other days, you have all afternoon to plan it out!” The words, and the implication behind them, gave me a dark pit in my stomach. I had never killed anyone before, not even when things had been at their worse. Were we really expected to murder someone else in order to survive? Scanning the shocked faces of the other group members, I knew one thing for certain. No one was going to call the mastermind’s bluff. After everything that had happened, it was obvious that we could all very easily be killed. So we had to kill someone. “Now I know what you’re thinking, so what happens if you do kill someone before midnight? Don’t worry about that either, the next day will just have the same rules! Sixteen days at most, gang!”   “Hold on, how do we win then?” Someone stepped forward who I didn’t know, a young man wearing a white hoodie that seemed quite out of place in a setting such as this, and begun talking to the voice. “I mean, it is a game, and the main rule of games is that there’s a way to win.” He had a point.
“Oh Peter, of course you can win. You just need to keep me satisfied until I’m happy to let you leave!” The voice responded with mirth. “Of course, you’ll have to find out other ways to make me happy than just killing if you want to save as many people as possible!” The voice said. “On the other hand, piss me off and I may just decide to kill you all anyway. Well, except for the inside man.” Those words sent another chill down my spine. Someone on the inside was a traitor? That seemed so cliché and unlikely, and yet, made horrible sense. Someone had to start the horror. There was no point setting up a game if it wasn’t going to be played. Now the question was… who was it? I looked at the other fifteen again, trying to get a read on each of them. No matter how much I looked, however, I couldn’t figure out who it was. I could see everyone else looking around too, trying to figure out who it was. I looked at Claire, and horribly, she was looking right at me, examining me closely. I was probably the prime suspect in her mind. “Now now, let’s not spend too much time trying to figure out who the traitor is, I’m sure they’ll reveal themselves in due time! The clock is ticking, kiddos! Who’s going to be the first victim tonight?!” The voice said, before the screen cut out, displaying a countdown. It was counting down to midnight, which immediately set me on edge. It was almost time already.
“What the fuck are we going to do?!” Aaron said, freaking out. The group was as on edge as I was, and it was going to take a lot of work to keep them co-ordinated on a way out.  
“Well obviously we get someone to sacrifice themselves to give us a way out. If they kill themselves, we don’t need to worry about being near a murderer either.” Jim said, attempting to take charge. Some nodded in agreement with him, but others were shocked at his proposal.
“Are you serious?!” Aaron exclaimed.
“Wow, and I thought you were bad before.” Den muttered.
“Christ, this guy’s a meathead.” Claire whispered to us.  
“Logistically speaking, that wouldn’t be too wise. The last thing we’d want would be to accidentally eliminate a good source of information.” Melvin said, scribbling notes down into a notepad that he had produced as if from nowhere.
“Well then we just get rid of the dumbest one here!” Jim said. I began looking at the door that led out of the hotel from this room, and saw the keypad next to it. When I looked back, I saw that most people’s eyes were on me, and I realised with a sinking feeling that my lie to make myself inconspicuous had backfired into making me the stupidest there. “I’m truly sorry, Rose, but this is for the best.” Jim said, and he almost seemed convinced himself.   “No, I’m sorry. But you aren’t going to do jack shit to me, you great lumbering cock.” I said angrily through gritted teeth. It was time for me to stop dicking around, so I ran to the door, and began scanning over everything. The keypad, the type of metal, the walls themselves, any way for us to get out.
“What the hell? Rose, what happened to you?” I turned back around as Aaron’s concerned voice reached me, and I saw that the group was shocked. I had definitely seemed like an idiot to most of them, so to be doing this was out of left field. But I didn’t care. Right now we were trying to break out of somewhere, which is quite similar to breaking in to somewhere. And I had a lot of experience with that.
“The keypad’s a 2015 model Fritz-Yaeger, complete with a non-stick interface, meaning no fingerprints. The metal itself is a thick, non-corrosive sort, possibly titanium or something, god knows. The walls are way too thick to break through.” I said, giving them all the information I had gained. “We’re all getting out of here alive, and if you try to make it otherwise, you will be the first one to ‘sacrifice’ themselves for everyone else’s sake. Any questions?” I said, taking charge of the situation.   “So why were you lying about being an idiot?” Claire asked. I wasn’t surprised she wanted to know, considering she had seen through it immediately, and then I had failed to keep it up.   “It’s my job.” I said simply, not going into too much detail despite the circumstances. “I can’t explain, but I needed to give a low profile.”  
“Right, because that’s not suspicious at all.” Claire responded, deadpan. “How do we know you aren’t the traitor?” She asked, quizzing me, her judging stare boring into me. I stayed calm and stoic.  
“You don’t, and for now, you’ll have to trust me. I’ll prove it when I can, but we have a lot of stuff we need to do. We need to organise a roll-call.” I said, coming up with the idea off the top of my head.   “Whatever for?” Melvin asked. “Honestly, attendance at a time like this is hardly paramount.”  
“To make sure we’re all safe come morning, plus to make sure we all know each other. There’s still people here I don’t know.” I responded, explaining it as best as I could. It made sense in my head. Introducing the group to each other would minimize the chance of a killing. Claire retrieved the guest list from the lobby, and handed it to me. As she did it, it also felt as if I was being handed the role of leader. I stood up on a table, and began reading out the names. Melvin, Aaron, Den, Jim, Claire, Amanda, Wendell (whose first name was Ray), Frank and Peter were all listed off, and then I got to the ones I didn’t know.
“Natalie Laiperd and Keith Valos?” I asked, and the trouble in paradise couple waved, their names finally having been revealed. “Edward Buckley?” I called out, and an older looking gentleman gave a simple wave, his hand quickly returning to his cane. “Annie Michelle?” A similarly aged woman gave a similar looking wave, before returning to her book. Her calmness was kinda admirable, and insane. “Jane Lalonde?” I said, and a voice called out in response. A blonde, young woman sat at a table by herself, sipping wine with her feet on the table. She wore all black, and had an air of professionalism that, considering the company, stood out surprisingly well. “And finally, Jennifer Carmichael?”   “Please, call me Jenny.” The final woman said, who was a fiery redhead with blue eyes that stood out against the contrasting hair colour. “Jennifer is so formal.” I had seen her before, but I had no idea where, which was usual fare for the people in here.  
“Alright then, now we have that out of the way, I suggest we scour the entire hotel and make sure that we haven’t missed a way out. Even getting onto the roof would be an accomplishment, so if we can do that, we absolutely should.” I said, creating a battle plan in my mind. All we had to do was find a way out, or a way to communicate with the outside world, before we all died. It was a pretty big challenge, but then again, it was possible. We were going to get out. This mastermind, whoever he was, was not going to defeat us.
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trendingnewsb · 6 years
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Glenn Close: You lose power if you get angry
From vengeful mistress to Agatha Christie matriarch: the actor talks about Harvey Weinstein, mental illness and growing up in a cult
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Glenn Close and I sit at the corner of a large boardroom table in an intimidatingly minimalist office on the 14th floor of a Los Angeles talent agency. Its the kind of environment in which Patty Hewes, the ruthless lawyer Close played in Damages for five seasons, would feel at home and Im almost waiting for her to stand up, slam both hands on the table and shout, Ill rip your face off or any of the other terrifying put-downs that defined her double Emmy award-winning performance.
But Close is in high spirits and radiates such warmth I barely notice the chill from the tower blocks air-con. After we fiddle with the settings on our swivel chairs, which are so high they make anyone under six foot kick their legs like a child on a swing, the 70-year-old, six-time Oscar nominee and star of stage, television and film starts telling me about her dreams. I have had a lot recently, full of this wonderful love for a younger man. The dreams just keep coming and I wake up thinking, that was wonderful! It wasnt necessarily us doing the sexual act, just the feeling of love.
With her white hair cut to a sharp crop, and wearing a relaxed navy blazer, chinos and black scarf on account of the arctic corporate temperature, she looks stylish and fit. I have never felt better in my life, and I am, like, 70, she says. Im really a late bloomer.
She says she feels a disconnect between how she sees herself and how people may view me when I walk down the street, like: Theres an old lady. You know, there is now this cult of the model. Everyone on the red carpet is made into a model. That is very hard to not play into I have a bit of podge I am trying to get rid of, but its hard. I just think, Oh fuck, Ive been doing this my whole life! But the irony is, you just get better and better with age. You dont feel less alive or less sexy.
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In Agatha Christies Crooked House. Photograph: Nick Wall
We are here to talk about Crooked House, the Agatha Christie adaptation debuting on Channel 5, before its theatrical release, in which Close plays Lady Edith, a matriarch of a very dysfunctional family. Close says, Christies grandson came to the set and he validated the fact that it was her favourite book, and the one that had never been adapted. He said when she handed it to the publisher, she was told she had to change the ending, because it was too upsetting and controversial. She refused. Its still pretty controversial.
This production, co-written by Julian Fellowes, might not be as spendy as Kenneth Branaghs $55m Murder On The Orient Express, but the ensemble cast is equally starry: joining Close are Gillian Anderson, Max Irons, Terence Stamp and Christina Hendricks. Close presides over her co-stars with gravitas and grace, in an understated performance that finds the humour in an otherwise bleak setup. But youd expect nothing less from the actor whose 40 years in the business started with star turns in Broadway productions (she won a Best Actress Tony in 1983 for Tom Stoppards The Real Thing). Her first film role, at the age of 35, was with Robin Williams in The World According To Garp, for which she received an Oscar nomination as she did for her supporting roles in The Big Chill and The Natural. Her performances in Fatal Attraction, Dangerous Liaisons and Albert Nobbs, about the life of a transgender butler in late 19th century Ireland, which she also co-wrote, racked up further Oscar nominations but still no win. This is seen by many as a travesty: Close brings a precision to her film work, honed through her years on stage. She has that rare taut quality Jack Nicholson also has it where you believe that beneath the steely control she is capable of snapping at any moment.
It was this that led Andrew Lloyd Webber to cast her in 1993 as the tragic silent movie star Norma Desmond in Sunset Boulevard on Broadway. Close reprised the role 23 years later, getting her old costumes out of storage (she has kept all her costumes and recently donated the collection to a university in Indiana) for its revival in Londons West End.
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As Alex Forrest in Fatal Attraction: Clearly she had mental health issues. Photograph: Rex/Shutterstock
But it was her Oscar-nominated turn as Alex Forrest in Fatal Attraction in 1987 that proved career-defining. Thirty years on, Close still counts Forrest as the character of whom she feels most fond; she has admitted to fighting tooth and nail against the films eventual denouement, which turned the character into a bunny-boiling psychopath and Close into the casting directors go-to woman on the verge for years afterwards. Now we have the vocabulary to talk about these things, clearly she had mental health issues, she says.
Close sits regally still as she speaks, emphasising her points by leaning forward and locking eyes. Shes comfortable with silences and often takes a theatrical beat or two before answering questions. Shes all poise and control, but does she ever lose her temper?
I express my feelings quietly. I am not afraid of confrontation, but I am not particularly good at it. If I get attacked, I am not good at attacking back. There is fight, flight and freeze and I tend to freeze. That is not a strength of mine. I love the fact that my daughter Annie [Starke, an actor] is more of a fighter than I am. She doesnt let people get away with shit. While she agrees that women have a harder time being angry, publicly, than men, she says, I have played a lot of characters, and actually anger makes you lose power. Patty Hewes [in Damages] she hardly ever lost her temper, but when she did, it was very specific. I have always felt you lose power if you get that angry.
The collective outpouring of anger among women in Hollywood right now is something of which Close is acutely aware. She says that sexism in the industry has shifted more slowly than it should have done throughout her career: It took Harvey Weinstein and someone calling him out [for real change to happen]. I know Harvey, and he has never done that to me, but people would say he was a pig. I never knew that it was that bad and I dont personally know anybody who has endured that. I would like to think that I would have done something about it.
We discuss whether its possible to separate the work from the personalities involved in it. News has just broken that House Of Cards will be back for another series without Kevin Spacey, after it was originally canned because of harassment claims brought against its leading man. Close wraps her scarf around her chest and fixes me with her electric eyes. Artists, to make a huge generality, walk on a very thin line. Sometimes, like my beloved friend Robin Williams, who was one step away from madness, whatever makes them a great artist also makes them very complicated human beings. Again, that doesnt mean they can prey on and abuse people.
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With Harvey Weinstein in 2013. Photograph: Mike Coppola/Getty Images
At the root of the problem of sexism in Hollywood right now is, Close says, biology. I think the way men have treated women, from the beginning of time, is because they have different brains to women. So I am not surprised by it at all. I say to a guy, Tell me the truth, if you see a woman walk into a room, what is the first thought that goes through your head? His answer, always, is, Would I fuck her? It doesnt mean they act on it. If you can evolve into a society where men know that they should not always act on it then there has been a positive revolution. But you cant just say that theyre not going to have the thought that is ridiculous. It also has to be the women, who are not powerful, to be OK to say no and leave the room. I think its unrealistic to say were going to change but we have to evolve.
I ask Close who she thinks is a great man today. She is silent, thinking, for what feels like a full 60 seconds in which I am so tempted to throw out some options: Barack Obama, the Pope, the friendly security guard on reception who let us in
Nelson Mandela, is her final answer, but Im not sure shes convinced. I guess for me, she says, greatness is taking your humanity and still doing the good thing. Its sad to say that there are very few men, who are leaders, who have some sort of moral code that they dont deviate from because of popular opinion.
She thinks we are undergoing a crisis of masculinity: In the public mind, yes. I was outraged when I heard that there was a war against men I was like, are you joking? What do you think has been happening against women for centuries?
Close knows all too well about the misuse of power, because her own upbringing was, as she puts it, complicated. When she was seven, her parents joined a cult. Moral Re-Armament or MRA was a modern, nondenominational movement founded by an American evangelical fundamentalist which extolled the four absolutes: honesty, purity, unselfishness and love. Her father, a physician working in the Congo, sent Close with her brother and two sisters from the family home in Greenwich, Connecticut, to live at the MRA HQ in Caux, Switzerland (Closes mother, Bettine, was a socialite).
She is vague on the details but clear on the impact this experience had on her as a teenager: I was repressed, clueless and guilt-ridden. The timeline is patchy, but Close travelled with MRA in the 60s as a member of their musical groups, and spent time back in Connecticut at an elite boarding school. I had a wonderful time at Rosemary Hall, a girls school, she says. I was in a renegade singing group called the Fingernails: A Group With Polish. But she remained, as she calls it clueless. A lot of my friends knew boys youd have these horrendous dances with boys schools and they would get the guys they wanted and I would just stay with the person I was with.
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As Patty Hewes in Damages. Photograph: Rex/Shutterstock
She was briefly married before going to university. It is a complicated story for me. I was married before college, and kind of in an arranged marriage when you look back on it, and my marriage broke up when I went to college, as it should have. I was 22. But my liberal arts school had a wonderful theatre that was my training, my acting school.
Was that where she finally learned about sex, popular culture, the ways of the world? Not really, she says. I still am learning.
Close has two sisters, Tina the eldest, and Jessie her younger sister; and two brothers, Alexander, and Tambu Misoki, who was adopted by Closes parents while living in Africa. At the age of 50, Jessie spent time in a psychiatric hospital and was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, a weight that had been hanging over the family, undiscussed, for years. Talking about mental illness just wasnt done, Close says. You dont have a vocabulary for it and youre also very aware of appearances. You dont want to appear a crazy family.
In 2010 Close founded Bring Change to Mind, a charity that aims to end the stigma around mental illness by talking openly about it and its effect on families. It was my nephew who was first diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder. This is basically schizophrenia with an ingredient of bipolar. And when that happened, it was like, What? My sister Jessie, his mother, didnt know what was wrong. He went to the hospital for two years and that saved his life. Then Jessie was, finally, correctly diagnosed herself.
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With sister Jessie in 2009. Photograph: Getty Images
Close felt a duty to her family to give them a high-profile person who is not afraid to talk about it publicly. It affects the whole family. We always knew my grandmother and mother had depression my sister does, I do to a certain extent. But I didnt know my great-uncle had schizophrenia. I knew my half-uncle died by suicide. There was a lot of alcoholism addiction, self-medication. Nobody ever talked about it. I knew my grandmother was depressed, but at first I thought she lived in a hotel, not a hospital, because she always said how good the food was.
Close says she and her siblings are of one mind politically, but admits she does have members of her family who voted for Trump. I tried to understand that. Theyre not crazy people who have been brainwashed by Fox News, but I try to understand the anger, because I think that has been building up ever since Watergate. It was watching that scandal unfold that made her realise Americans have always been naive, we just take for granted what we have, and we always thought of our leaders as good people. With Watergate, people became cynical about government.
Today, she says, Washington is a bunch of self-serving She searches for an expletive and after a second settles on men. She says, Its hard to believe that people are so out for themselves. It goes against what you would like to believe about your country. I feel eloquence is incredibly important for a leader, and we had that with Barack Obama, who made his initial impact because he gave that incredibly eloquent speech, but he lost his eloquence in his presidency. We always need someone to say, I hear you, someone who can put their words into unity and hope and we dont have that. I think the last person may have been Robert Kennedy.
And now you have Trump tweeting nonsense.
Its devastating. Social networks are now like our nervous system, and if you keep pumping that kind of crap into the nervous system, it is going to have an effect on a population.
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With Kevin Kline in The Big Chill. Photograph: Rex/Shutterstock
Close doesnt talk politics with her friends because she doesnt really have many friends. I have always forced myself into situations I am not comfortable in. I am an introvert, and I was painfully shy as a child. I think I still have a big dollop of that in my persona. I read a book called Quiet: The Power Of Introverts In A World That Cant Stop Talking and it was a real comfort to me I realised I was that person I had always been. And it was at that point I told myself to stop pushing myself into situations that I dont enjoy. I dread cocktail parties.
She tells me shes pretty reclusive and can count her closest friends on two fingers. I ask if shes still good friends with Meryl Streep.
I have never been close friends with Meryl. We have huge respect for each other, but I have only done one thing with her, The House Of The Spirits.
I apologise for assuming they were pals, being of a similar age and stature in Hollywood, and admit this negates my next question: Who would win in an arm wrestle, you or Meryl?
Close laughs. Oh, I would, because I am very strong.
***
The tightest bond Close has is with her only daughter Annie, 29. Annies father is the film producer John Starke whom Close dated for four years from 1987, but never married. Annie was never a door-slamming, difficult teenager. Close tells me: When my Annie was three, she looked at me, and said, I want you. I knew what she meant. I, at the time, was a single working parent, sometimes even when I was home, working or producing something, I was there and not there.
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With daughter Annie Starke in 2010. Photograph: Rex/Shutterstock
She doesnt think its any easier for working mothers today and acknowledges, I had it easy because I could afford to have help think of the women who cant afford it and have to put their child in some shaky childcare centre. No, I think it is incredibly hard for women. Any person, in any profession, feels that tug [of guilt]. We discuss the intimacy of the single-parent, only-child bond. Once, I went to vacuum Annies car seat as we were moving house, and a lot of life had happened there, so I was crying. She said, Mummy, are you OK? I said, Yeah, Im OK. And she said, Here I am.
She was married to businessman James Marlas from 1984 to 1987 and then, following other relationships, including that with Starke, she married again, in 2006, to venture capitalist David Evans Shaw, divorcing him nine years later.
Would she marry again?
I dont know.
Does she think marriage is important?
I think it is a positive evolutionary component that we are better with a partner. I think to have a partner that you can go through life with, creating a history with, that you can find a comfort with, have children with there is nothing better. This is an opinion I have come to very late in life, at an ironic moment, where I dont have any of that. I dont know if I will again. But I do think its a basic human need to be connected.
Despite this, shes happy on her own right now. This is a good time in life. I do think, what would it be like to have a partner again? But it would have to be very different from what I had before. Then I have that great dream and wake up happy.
Crooked House is on Channel 5 at 9pm on 17 December.
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Read more: https://www.theguardian.com/film/2017/dec/16/glenn-close-harvey-weinstein-mental-illness-cult-fatal-attraction
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will-you-are-not · 6 years
Text
Years
So the last couple years have knocked me down. Very hard. ROOMMATES To summarize the apartment living scenario: I was hurt, badly, by both people I lived with at separate times. First was like getting a divorce, second a possible brotherly betrayal. No need to go on, it would just be more whining than this is already. I may have deserved it...karma is quiiiite the bitch. ROBBERY Coming up on three years ago I was robbed midday in my apartment of nearly three years, dumb enough to chase them downstairs to where their vehicle was apparently waiting...I couldn't walk for about 5 months without some kind of crutch or brace. For the first two I didn't walk at all. HOSPITALIZATION The hospital? Meh. Had to have the first ER doctor dismissed. He said I was fine and should leave by days' end. Got angry and very physical with my crippled ass to the point that I (with parts of my feet dangling and skin just gone) got calm. I don't remember what I said, but it terrified the man and he left. Nurses? ASTOUNDING. Administration? Eh, the next guy I'm about to talk about was really nice after I made clear to them his actions. Though, they still kept me much longer than necessary. Pain doctor? Wouldn't prescribe me pain meds out of the hospital because I tested positive for Marijuana. Right wing religious type. I came to know this by two nurses whom were actively trying to get me better care. He yelled at me that he wouldn't give me anything unless I took some other pill he prescribed along with whatever. Legitimately, called me an addict, threw a fit, bursting into the room. To which I responded along the lines of: "Doctor, do I distribute the medication? Do I even know how to properly read that board? Tell the nurses or pharmaceutical staff. Not me." I do remember vividly saying for him to do his job and listen or fuck off. Now this...this changed me a bit as a human. He even refused medication after my back hadn't been treated in 5 days. It was just left, forgotten, until the smell was overbearing. Thought the picture they took would be a reminder...somehow that was left out of the file. I had to be skinned to prevent infection. Dad crying, nurses crying, blood everywhere. No shit y'all, no meds. From my shoulder blade to half my ass in a thick strip. Then I was questioned by detectives. ...it was a Thursday... TAKING IT FOR GRANTED Then I heal, enjoy life, get back in my swing. A year of fuck-all after those 6 months of pills, pain, confusion, and anger. I get lazy and desperate, honestly. Desperate for the freedom of living away from home, but too lazy to work hard enough to go at it alone. Looking to work at a distance to eventually move near wherever due to love interests...duumb. Never thought of the fact that there was no way I could break even with such a drive, tore my reliability apart for future jobs, lost my motivation, blah blah. Skipskipskip Then I finally get focused, even through a rough period for me emotionally. I see the goals, can taste it, after so long, I fuckin got this! HARVEY I told everyone it was gonna be terrible. Seriously. I had an emergency plan for us to go under completely. That's why I'm sitting on this mattress that I was asleep on when the water rushed in. Car? Insurance. House and things? Well... We were woken by the rabbit, well, I, by my father; rabbit by proxy. Desperately thumping the ground in hopes that someone would do something about the water lightly lapping over the lip of our front door. I moved everything onto a table I had ready. Bed boosted onto chairs. The water kept rising. I demanded my parents get a bag and pack 3 days worth of clothing. I had already packed the medical supplies. My mother refused, my father was stunned. I yelled, cursed, demanded reason. The water kept rising. Lightning strikes and the rain gets heavier. We don't know the status of the surrounding area but I try to make crystal that it doesn't matter. High ground. Now. Arguments ensue. The water kept rising. Daybreak. Organization. Elderly and children first. Screams. Electrified water. Fires. Floating colonies. Sudden militia. The water stops. The rain pauses. Everyone moves fast to the highway to family and friends able to assist. My uncle had a clear route and decided to brave the uncertainty to rescue us. I rounded my parents together, though reluctant, and tried to drive home the fact that this was our one chance. We used the sanctioned canoe for the center of Marlin; my father had just used it to save our neighbor from eventually burning to death in the attic... Rain falls again. We pack up, cover electronics, stop the dog's panic seizure, and I race. I pull the canoe far ahead, leaving my mother, then father behind. My uncle had been texting us impatiently before we had to go dark to tread. I knew there wasn't much time, though I didn't want to even pass the thought he'd leave us... The water is rising. I get to the front. No familiar car. My father runs from our civilian staging ground to the now empty military one on the other side of our sinking ship of a neighborhood. Only a few first responders remain to help in case of immediate emergency. No family. No national guard. Just us: Citizens, trying to save each other. It begins to pour. My mother cries. The dog whimpers. The eyes of the rabbit dilate. My father attempts to console... I. I am livid. I left my parents behind to stop an invisible train! I yelled at them! Me! Their son! They trusted me directing them, but I put my trust in a mirage. It never existed. I found, after digging for my phone, that the coward had left 30 minutes prior. Sent, "look for the national guard." that's it. Left us in rising waters, devastated neighborhood, roads disappearing, because he was afraid to get stuck...for even a moment. The water kept rising Complete strangers offer to take us down the highway to where we were headed in the first place. My father stays behind. He has to return the canoe and make sure no one else is trapped. I go with my mother and what remains of our possessions. I make sure no one sees it, but as I'm holding my large German shepherd/lab mix and shielding the rabbit from the torrent, I cry. I sob from my soul. It hurts. Gone. So much. So many. We were left behind. I had looked up to him for so long... then realized at that moment, thinking of the bigger picture... It was never action. All talk. Even helping me through my issues, he'd pass it off "above my pay grade" "I'll see what I can do" he'd say. I told him my darkest secrets, confided in him over my father. I was truly appalled. Crossing the bell tower, a coast guard chopper blazes by us. Low, toward the Bayridge that was. The water kept rising ... BUT NOT NEARLY ENOUGH. The route my uncle took to us, then ran from us by, was still completely passable. We get to the compound safe...but my father... Lightning causes the sky to rumble with anger. We wait. I download walkies that newly formed militias are coordinating with. There's no clear paths. I sit, frozen, as the scale of the situation finally settles in. My uncle, father's brother this time, braves currents, weather, and all odds to retrieve my father from the disaster zone. I can't stand idly. My friends, whom were deeper in the waterlogged zones and in a sedan, came to get me. We went through all of southeast Houston, and I broadcasted through public social media posts the roads passable. I cried once more, but not after, when I saw the Central Business District (one of 5 downtown districts of Houston proper) of my city DARK while radio chatter pleaded in the background... The sky began to darken Both of my friends risking their lives and possessions, I, simply navigating; it seemed so miniscule...but only after did I hear how much we helped. Curfew initiated Martial law in effect... Though... We took care of ourselves down here. It rained for three more days. AFTERMATH Bish, it's Houston, we good. BUT Personally, I just want to give up. Every time I get motivated, something literally cataclysmic happens on a personal level or otherwise. Now I've been caught in limbo, reconnecting with the other side of the family I distanced myself from due to religious and, in my view, character complications. But they took me in. No question, just love. Now we help each other in so many ways and speak philosophy and art. The side of the family I was always close to now pushes me away simply because I'm not letting it go. The man hasn't even apologized yet. Hell no. Y'all gonna cut me off, someone who's been through it, started walkin the walk, just cuz you think my current dreams make me a deadbeat? You know that man lives off ya daughter's paycheck and has for decades, right? Like fuck. Wanna utilize those certificates your wife got ya, pal? I see that car, that jewelry, cigars, his whole fucking lifestyle is a sham. Maybe if he actually closed on sales instead of bitching about them...UGH like...and politics. You know nothing. His politik is all politik. RAWR!!! Sorry y'all. Heated still. I JUST WANT "I'M SORRY". NO REASONS, NOTHIN. Then I'll legit be fine. ANYWAY I'm catching this semester at school, but after nearly having it down before and failing to launch over and over... It all seems so far away. Now, once again, it storms as I reminisce. Scarred and damp
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