By simply tilting her head back to swill a mouthful of Pepsi, Cindy Crawford completely stunned two innocent young boys – and at least half of TV-watching America. If you’re on the seminal Vogue cover that heralded the advent of the supermodel, you tend to have that effect on people. Those and the many other iconic moments chronicled in her new book Becoming didn’t happen overnight, nor did they come with a set of instructions for a girl who began her working life cleaning houses for minimum wage and wound up as a megabrand. That’s all stuff she had to figure out on her own, and what makes the stories behind the photos as impactful as the images themselves. As much as there is to envy about her (you looked at our cover, right?), there’s even more to relate to. That’s because despite the slickest efforts of our friends in the ad industry, most Americans can smell a phony from across a cornfield, and Crawford’s about as authentic as they get. She’ll tell you that comes from learning who you are, sticking to your values and yes, knowing how to use them. In this issue, the nicest Glamazon we’ve ever met discusses the early family hardships that forged her personality, defining moments on her course to supermodel-dom, body image vs. reality, and being her own “business daddy”. That, and what she was really thinking about on her very first Vogue cover. All brought to you by our newest sponsor, Model Viagra.
Jake Gyllenhaal has lived many lives and lifetimes through his work as one of his generation’s most adventurous and curious actors. His intense prep for roles like Billy Hope and Lou Bloom is not about showing you how hard he worked to play those characters; it’s about telling you a great story, and personally, the experience he seeks in telling it. He saw Southpaw not just as an opportunity to share the story of a vicious, rage-filled fighter becoming a parent and adult, but to explore his own curiosity about anger. Most people would’ve hired a shrink, but the “I-don’t-give-a-f*** confidence” he developed in the ring was vital to helping him express physically what his character lacked the ability to articulate in any other way. (He cautions that bravado doesn’t work as well outside the ring with people who “give even less of a f***.”) In this issue of Off Camera, the actor shares what draws him to roles and directors, what led him to re-think his career as an artist, and his philosophical chats with his good friends in the LAPD. That, and a bit of early advice he got from Chris Cooper: “Never leave a scene with any regrets.” Gyllenhaal says he still doesn’t understand that one entirely, but we’re pretty sure you won’t leave this conversation with any.
Jake Gyllenhaal has lived many lives and lifetimes through his work as one of his generation’s most adventurous and curious actors. His intense prep for roles like Billy Hope and Lou Bloom is not about showing you how hard he worked to play those characters; it’s about telling you a great story, and personally, the experience he seeks in telling it. He saw Southpaw not just as an opportunity to share the story of a vicious, rage-filled fighter becoming a parent and adult, but to explore his own curiosity about anger. Most people would’ve hired a shrink, but the “I-don’t-give-a-f*** confidence” he developed in the ring was vital to helping him express physically what his character lacked the ability to articulate in any other way. (He cautions that bravado doesn’t work as well outside the ring with people who “give even less of a f***.”) In this issue of Off Camera, the actor shares what draws him to roles and directors, what led him to re-think his career as an artist, and his philosophical chats with his good friends in the LAPD. That, and a bit of early advice he got from Chris Cooper: “Never leave a scene with any regrets.” Gyllenhaal says he still doesn’t understand that one entirely, but we’re pretty sure you won’t leave this conversation with any.
Jake Gyllenhaal has lived many lives and lifetimes through his work as one of his generation’s most adventurous and curious actors. His intense prep for roles like Billy Hope and Lou Bloom is not about showing you how hard he worked to play those characters; it’s about telling you a great story, and personally, the experience he seeks in telling it. He saw Southpaw not just as an opportunity to share the story of a vicious, rage-filled fighter becoming a parent and adult, but to explore his own curiosity about anger. Most people would’ve hired a shrink, but the “I-don’t-give-a-f*** confidence” he developed in the ring was vital to helping him express physically what his character lacked the ability to articulate in any other way. (He cautions that bravado doesn’t work as well outside the ring with people who “give even less of a f***.”) In this issue of Off Camera, the actor shares what draws him to roles and directors, what led him to re-think his career as an artist, and his philosophical chats with his good friends in the LAPD. That, and a bit of early advice he got from Chris Cooper: “Never leave a scene with any regrets.” Gyllenhaal says he still doesn’t understand that one entirely, but we’re pretty sure you won’t leave this conversation with any.
