I’d heard the rumors about Cannes. About the heels of shoes that are measured if they appear suspiciously low. About some authorized shoe detective (random festival volunteer) who is qualified to deem a heel unfit for a premiere and deny entry. About how this unwelcomed fashion consultation excludes nobody — except men. When I first heard of this supposed Cannes custom — since confirmed by recent celebrity outbursts and Facebook posts from friends in attendance — I lost interest in attending myself. It’s not about whether or not I like getting dolled up, or if I like to wear heels […]

I spent months complaining about the drug dealers on my doorstep. I didn’t like dodging their transactions or how they’d hover or call after me. But when one of them offered to help adjust my bike seat, witness to my prolonged and embarrassing struggle, an alliance was formed, and over the course of a few weeks, a friendship. Despite the language barrier — I speak poor German, and he, worse — I learned how he fled Senegal on a crowded boat of sick and dying refugees, and how he arrived in Italy without knowing a soul, the language, or an […]

I can’t say I’ve had many positive experiences with publicists. I once met one who texted throughout our entire first meeting, another who pretended not to have a spare ticket for a screening, and another who set up an interview and then told me afterward it couldn’t be published. But a series of lousy experiences by no means speaks to the universal personalities that PR attracts. It’s just that I’ve found publicity in general to be more on the unpleasant side of film industry unpleasantry, so it’s somehow been easier to judge. When I think of PR, I have a […]

In her 1929 essay A Room of One’s Own, Virginia Woolf imagines a woman named “Judith.” She writes of an ordinary early 17th century woman, but supposes one unordinary detail. Supposing Judith had been the sister of Shakespeare with the same talent and ambition for writing, Woolf presents the realistic story, and it doesn’t end well for phantom Judith Shakespeare. Artistic ambitions for Elizabethan women were not just impractical; they were impossible. A few centuries and a bit of social progress later, the obstacles for Woolf and her contemporaries improved, but were far from perfect. Another century brings us to […]

I remember signing with an agent. As an eleven-year-old actress, the prospect of TV and radio work was thrilling. When I didn’t book a print job, my agent blamed it on the braces. But when I landed a local Cleveland radio spot, my flair for voiceover was celebrated, but not too much. With children for clients, my agent was careful to keep any star-driven egos in-check (even though the moms were bigger hazards). What I remember most during this year-long agency exploit is not the disappointment of frequent rejection or the high of occasional validation; I mostly remember the relationship between my agent […]

I’m walking to a bar after seeing Jonathan Glazer’s Under the Skin in Berlin’s progressively gentrified neighborhood, Neukölln. Our group of four is unanimously in favor of the sci-fi thriller starring Scarlett Johansson. But by the time we take our seats in the bar, rumblings of an argument have begun. When my challenger brings up male-gaze, I say that its existence in cinema may be fundamentally problematic, but for me, its presence in Under the Skin is necessary in the experience of the film. He says his issue with male-gaze actually relates to the objectification of the male subjects, not […]

I remember my first summer in New York. Washington Square Park was my backyard, I had an unconvincing fake ID that somehow worked, and I ate frozen yogurt for breakfast. I also remember spaceship battles and Cylons because when I wasn’t outside living the dream, I was in a Battlestar Galactica fantasy in my dorm room. And when I wasn’t binge-watching the television show, I was dreaming about it. The memories of my first summer in New York are largely constructed around this BSG association; it’s as if the context of my real life has been grounded in the memories of the fantasy one. I similarly refer […]

I’m sitting in a small 190°F room. I have taken my glasses off because I think they’d melt, so I can’t see. Also, I’m naked, as is everyone around me. My friend and I are whispering, most likely disturbing the neighboring nudes, but this is my first time in a Berlin sauna, so I’m not familiar with the collective sweaty silence that Germans call relaxation. As my friend escorts me through the different bathing rooms, I try to keep an open mind because a night at the Stadtbad is a Berlin staple. Twenty-five years ago, two friends also made a […]

I walked out after the first 15 minutes of 50 Shades of Grey. Granted, I thought I was walking into a meeting, so this unexpected private screening caught me off guard. I was also thrown by the venue’s attempt to mirror the film’s billion-dollar company, “Grey Enterprises.” Christian Grey impersonators literally barked orders and insults at the arriving guests. This did not get me in the mood. Also, the film was dubbed in German (which is not to say that I would have preferred to suffer through it in English). Somewhere between the 15 minutes of 50 shades of folly […]

I’m walking up the ballroom steps of Berlin’s Ritz Carlton on the third night of the Berlinale. Around the circular balcony are crowds of men, drinks in one hand, cigarettes in the other. Between sips and drags they survey the arriving guests. The scene is worth checking out — it’s a mix of German film celebrities, socialites and a smattering of film industry who are seduced less by the scene than by the promise of free food. But the sustenance provided during the first two hours is limited to frosted flutes of vodka and second-hand smoke. Feeling starved throughout a […]