When the movie Emma came out I fell in love with the exsquisite young vision that was Gwyneth Paltrow. Call me fickle but I generally fall in love about 3 times in every movie. That’s why we see films. Well, that’s why I see films. To be absorbed in the plot, to actually become, temporarily, inside the story. Something I struggle to do in live Theatre. But heh, that’s just me.

A little later Gwynnie was in Shakespeare in Love and I found she still loved me, as well as young Will, and she was still the most perfectly gorgeous ‘thing’ on the planet. Even dressed as a boy (about as convincingly as Mike Tyson in drag) she was simply divine.

Sadly, when she learned to speak outside of scripts, it all went to shit. Then she left me, ran off and married Chris Martin and turned into a fucking headcase. Which is the nice way of describing people who overthink things to the point of tragedy, who hug trees, spend months on yoga retreats lying on the floor looking at stars and refuse all solid foods on spiritual grounds. She became the mouthpiece for drinkers of horrible green slime, the face of Estee Lauder, the blubber at award shows, she became Churchill for the Pilates classes. And she named her children Apple and Moses.

Alas and alack, as all stories, however lovely and loving and loved up go, they have a beginning, a middle and an end. And for Gwynnie and Chris, we’re in the end game. Well, we’re in the start of the end game. We’re in extra time.

This ‘supercouple’ have parted ways. Or, intend to part ways. Possibly some time soon. They’re not separating, in fact they’re on holiday together right now. They’re not devor-, sorry, mustn’t use that word in this context, its inflammatory and negative and can really dissociate one’s yin from one’s yang. So no, they’re not doing none of that shit, no way. Think of the children!!! They have enough trouble having stupid names, more stigma would not be fair.

They are: ‘consciously uncoupling’.

Sick bags are available near you right now.

This wonderful, airy fairy, prune-juice and alphalpha sprout phrase was coined by one of Gwynnie’s health gurus. And that’s mental health too. Which is why she’s pretty mental.

Its a wonderful sentiment. They still love each other. (Don’t ask.) In fact they love each other more than when they were happily married. Honest. Almost as if ‘consciously uncoupling’ can actually enhance a relationship. Wow. Powerful stuff. And I’m really happy for them that they have reached this divided path in their lives and will travel them separately but together, walking apart but still metaphorically hand in hand. Which is fine until your shoulders get wrenched out of their sockets.

We’ll see how ‘consciously uncoupled’ they are when they’re screaming over the cd collection. When their lawyers are dividing up their immense and entangled vast wealth. When he wants the kids in the UK and she won’t let them get on the plane because the pilot ate meat last Wednesday so the karma’s all wrong; ‘remember flight 307!!!!!!’

Its a shame. Gwynnie and Chris have become the A-list version of Arsenal football club. Pretty to watch but totally dysfunctional.

Happy Thursday

A xxxx