It ’s a wildfire-hot August afternoon in Topanga Canyon, the air so dry and still you can practically hear the sagebrush gathering itself for the conflagration. Everyone’s gulping down great lashings of CBD water, including Renée Zellweger, who can’t hydrate fast enough. We have been hanging out now for nearly two hours on the patio of Topanga Living, a little café that’s one of Zellweger’s regular joints. ¶ As she heads inside for more supplies—bottles of turmeric juice, tea, and more fancy water— a young dude a couple of tables away leans over. “I don’t mean to make this weird,” he says, “but is that Renée Zellweger?” The actress, meanwhile, has stopped to talk to a lesbian couple with a tiny dog sitting near the door. They are earnest in the extreme and seem not the least bit starstruck, which makes me think they have no idea who she is—just some nice lady in Capri tights and running shoes with a voluminous scarf draped around her neck.
When Zellweger gets back to our table, I express surprise that the couple didn’t get movie-star dopey, and she says, “Nope.” A big smile spreads across her face. “I have very authentic exchanges with people once again.” She stares at me for a second and then screws up one of those great Renée Zellweger faces. “Thankyouverymuch,” she says, sort of doing Elvis if he were from Texas. “Six years. It was important, that time. You’re not in people’s consciousness anymore, so they don’t immediately make the connection. It’s a quieter life, and I love it.”
This story is from the September 2-15, 2019 edition of New York magazine.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 8,500+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber ? Sign In
This story is from the September 2-15, 2019 edition of New York magazine.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 8,500+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber? Sign In
Our Campus.Our Crisis.
Inside the encampments and crackdowns that shook American politics.
Middle Management
A 40-something woman undergoes asexual awakening in Miranda July’s thrilling new work.
Return to Guantánamo
Serial dusts off American terror's old machinery.
Chekhov, Misfiring
An Uncle Vanya that’s all talk.
The Art World's Pot Stirrer Returns
Maurizio Cattelan’s first solo gallery show in more than 20 years is a provocative commentary on America’s ills.
On Normani's Time
Five years into her solo career, the pop star's debut album is finally imminent. She's not sorry for the wait.
French Quarter Seafood in Fort Greene
Lots of oysters and fillets of fish inspired by Nobu at Strange Delight.
Where Does the Wine Bar End and the Restaurant Begin?
Pét-nats, pan roasts, and a lobster on the loose at Penny and Demo.
Trial-and-Error Arcadia
Kitty Hawks and Larry Lederman's Chappaqua gardens have been a three-decade-long journey.
The Trash and Treasures of Temu
How are these headphones 4.98? And everything else you've wondered about the chaotic new Everything Store.