By Rachel Krueger
If last year’s film version of the musical Nine is at all true to life (and I hope that it is, as there are gratuitous tambourines) then Daniel Day-Lewis gets all the ladies. And apparently he is good for what ails you.
Exhibit A: Nicole Kidman. The frozen-faced starlet has wandered vaguely about town looking all one color for the past few years, drained of both emotion and of that lovely red hair that made her so stunning in Moulin Rouge. While proximity to The Lewis failed to resuscitate her auburn locks, it at last gave her a red-gold sheen and about four minutes of actual emoting.
Exhibit B: Kate Hudson. Kate Hudson looks like she would cut a bitch. The girl’s stank-eye switch is stuck in the “on” position, but you toss her next to El Daniel and suddenly she’s all dimples and beaded fringe and kicky dance numbers.
Exhibit C: Sophie Loren. Marginally less weathered.
Exhibit D: Judi Dench. No, scrap this one. Judi Dench is and always will be flawless.
Exhibit E: Penelope Cruz. Stunning and intimidatingly perfect in real life; winsome and adorably dumb as D-L’s mistress.
Exhibit F: F is for Fergie. Her stint as Young Dannyboy’s Favorite Beach-Whore saw her lose the severe SpaceLady make-up, gain about ten pounds, and let her hair down. Pretty! Relaxed! Still slutty (Beach-Whore, after all) but way less pointy!
Exhibit G: Take one Marion Cotillard, add one Daniel D-L and stir gently. End product: Audrey Hepburn (with one Day-Lewis, remainder).
Conclusion: Someone needs to bottle this man’s essence and sell it. I mean that in the least-dirty way possible.
