Smarmy Sam: Natalie Portman

Due to circumstances outside of my control, I haven’t seen last week’s or this week’s episodes of Glee, which unfortunately means that I can’t offer witticisms about how Gwyneth Paltrow is the physical and emotional equivalent of a My Size Barbie for Cate Blanchett, or about how those original songs go against the very regurgitated essence of Glee. Instead, in homage to one of my favorite Blogulator contributors, Angry Amy, I’d like to tell you about what makes Sam smarmy.

It all started with the Oscars. Now I know that everyone’s been boarding on the U.S.S. “I Hate Anne Hathaway” in the past weeks (I’m talking about you, Qualler and Doktor Peace), but I feel like in our haste to blame Anne Hathaway for the train wreck that was the hosting job, we’ve ignored an extremely aggravating fact: we’ve lost Natalie Portman.

Not literally, of course. I’m sure Natalie

could easily be found in the arms of her gorgeous, French, ballerina husband. If she’s not there, try looking for her on Ellen where she’s probably gushing about how great her pregnancy is. And if all else fails, try the foyer whereshe keeps her Oscar and her Golden Globe and smiles with gracious humility whenever she sees them.

What I mean is that the Natalie Portman as we know her is gone, and in her place is yet another reiteration of America’s Sweetheart, cute and cuddly and totally conventional. Gone is the Portman who suddenly appeared in the tabloids with a shaved head and strangely rocked it. Gone is the Portman who gave up making movies to go Harvard. Gone is the Portman who was annoyingly and naggingly vegan. Gone is the Portman who was often mistaken with the much more angular Keira Knightley. All we have now is this cute, quirky RomCom starlet who goes on Ellen and laments how much of a cliché she is and who gives acceptance speeches about how much her amazingly attractive fiancé wants to shag her. And three or four years down the road, that same outrageously good-looking fiancé will probably break her heart in some way, and then she’ll just be Sandra Bullock or Reese Witherspoon and be all cute and talk about how she’s coping. Why, Natalie? Why must you doom yourself to being a future America’s Sweetheart?! Gee, I’m smarmy!

Yes, I know. Portman’s role in Black Swan was the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen, in a good way. And yes, I’m happy that she scored the hottest dancer ever and is bringing to term the “little dancer” in her belly. But come on. Being a mom is her “most important role ever”? Dear Jesus, Natalie. Why don’t you just become Julia Roberts? I mean, at this point, the only person who dislikes you is apparently Mike Huckabee and that’s just because you make being an unwed mother look so freaking cute!

I’m probably just jealous. She has that fiancé (have I mentioned that he’s a wildly attractive French dancer?), an incredibly successful career, and critical acclaim. Plus, she’s prettier than me. Maybe I resent that she’s so gracious and humble when, in the same circumstances, I’d be rubbing my greatness in everyone’s face. “See this Oscar?” I’d say. “I won this for my universally acclaimed and horrifying role in Black Swan. I spent a year learning ballet from this really hot guy who I’m now going to marry in order to play this part. I’ve so got this baby in my belly that’s probably going to be so adorable that you won’t be able to look at it without protective googles. Oh, but I’m sorry, what did you do this year? Really? That’s it? How quaint.” And I think the truth is that Smarmy Sam is really just smarmy because Sam likes Natalie Portman, conventional or not, even though everyone else is so freaking gaga for her. But I guess it’s time to find a new quasi-starlet to obsess over until she gets too famous and well-received. Michelle William’s perhaps? She does have that pixie cut…

This entry was posted by Sam, on Tuesday, March 15, 2011. You can leave your response.