Greg Stacy’s FAT LOT OF GOOD

February 6, 2007

Requiem for a Crush: How Jennifer Connelly starved her way to seriousness

Filed under: Humor,Movies,OC Weekly — gregstacy @ 10:12 pm

An unrequited crush can be a painful thing, but it’s even worse when the object of your sweaty affections is a movie star you’ve never met, who will never know your name and who is so far out of your league that you may as well be members of different species.

My crush began sometime in early 1991, when I saw the trailer for a dire-looking John Hughes comedy, Career Opportunities. I was barely paying attention, when suddenly there was young Jennifer Connelly, wearing a white tank top that showed off her spectacular curves to perfection. She was bouncing up and down on one of those little mechanical horsy things you see at the mall, and she had this kinda bored, pouty expression that–oh, sweet Jesus, I still get woozy just thinking of it.

I’d first seen the New York native way back in 1986, when she’d starred alongside a fright-wigged David Bowie and a few dozen Muppets in the Jim Henson cult classic Labyrinth. But that Jennifer was just a kid, boobless and buttless, with the big, sad eyes of a lost kitten. She was old enough to be in my same grade at school, but entertaining sexual thoughts about her would’ve felt wrong­—like pedophilia, almost. Now here we were, just a few short years later, and she’d grown up real good. I was instantly smitten, but it didn’t became a full-blown, John Hinkley-esque obsession until a few months later, when she appeared in the Disney bomb The Rocketeer. She spent much of that picture dolled up in this old-timey, low-cut, white dress, and she was simply too gorgeous for this world; it was like the skies had opened and a zaftig angel was walking among us. I saw that stupid movie at least three times in the theater, and I resented every moment when my girl wasn’t onscreen. Who cared about that dork and his jetpack, when we’d just seen Jennifer in her bedroom, putting on her lipstick?

There is a reason why they call a crush a crush: it can be oppressive and exhausting, like a big, fancy, perfumed millstone around your neck. My Connelly crush began before the Internet became ubiquitous, so I couldn’t just hop online for a quick Jennifer fix. I had to stay up to catch her (all-too-brief!) interviews on Letterman, or pounce on any magazine where she appeared on the cover. I never saw any Jennifer Connelly posters for sale, but I wouldn’t have bought them anyhow. Owning posters would’ve been admitting to myself that she was the untouchable star and I was just one of her many anonymous fans, doomed to go to my grave without ever once knowing the smell of her lustrous, midnight-black hair. When I learned that she was studying English at Yale–brains and beauty!–I nearly perished.

I loved everything about Connelly: her smarts (after two years at Yale, she transferred to Stanford), her little mouse voice, her chubby cheeks, her untamed brows, and . . . well, let’s not kid ourselves, the girl was built. On those rare occasions when I confessed to my girlfriends that I was hung-up on Connelly, they invariably sneered, “Oh, of course,” rolling their eyes and cupping their hands about two feet in front of their chests. Sadly, my girlfriends weren’t the only ones who had trouble seeing beyond Jennifer’s double-Ds. Casting directors were equally blind to her other assets, and through most of the ’90s she played a lot of bimbos in a lot of forgettable films. Her talent was obvious even in these thankless roles, and the two words that critics most often used to describe her were voluptuous and underused.

For a long time, Connelly’s sexiness actually worked against her professionally. Sure, Hollywood likes beautiful actresses, and some sexiness is okay. But if an actress is, like, porn-star hot, with big, distracting boobs, it doesn’t matter how talented or ambitious she might be—she’ll still have a hard time ever being more than a pinup. Marilyn Monroe famously struggled with this, and she was cursed by being so far ahead of her time, so desperate to please, and so damn stacked. She was a Lee Strasberg girl in a Jayne Mansfield world. On the contemporary scene, Angelina Jolie strains the limits of acceptable sexiness. Usually, American leading ladies are the “pert,” willowy, girl-next-door type: your Megs, your Julias, your Camerons, girls so well-scrubbed it’s hard to imagine them ever getting dirty. The only time anybody noticed Julia Roberts’ rack was when she shoved it in our faces in Erin Brockovich, and that was pure stunt casting. Roberts’ utilitarian prettiness left her free to do drama, comedy, romance or whatever she felt like, while Connelly, Roberts’ contemporary, spent much of her career playing pillowy girlfriends in whatever movie she could get.

Connelly briefly dropped off my radar in the late ’90s, and the next time I saw her, sometime in the new millennium, I literally didn’t recognize her at first. She’d lost so much weight I wondered if she’d been ill. (Seriously, she could practically live in one of her old bras now.) She looked grumpy, like she’d kill for a Twinkie. But what do you know, suddenly people were treating her like a “serious” actress, and she was winning awards. She won an Oscar, for Christ’s sake! My Jennifer!

In interviews today, Connelly talks about how she almost gave up acting in the ’90s because she was so frustrated with the unchallenging roles she was getting, how she’s never been happier than she is right now and never felt more like herself. Even if looking at her just makes me sad now, if starving away her curves made her happy, if she did it for herself, well, God bless her. Still, I have this awful feeling that sometime around 1999, Connelly’s agent took her aside and told her she was never gonna win an Academy Award with those boobs. She’s so grimly, insistently thin. It looks like hard work. I miss her old, crazy brows, too.

The Jennifer I fell for, half a lifetime ago, was too big for the movies she was in. It was like they could hardly fit her on the screen. Today’s Jennifer actually looks much more like the teenage Jennifer of Labyrinth: tentative and wispy, like a strong wind could blow her away. You see her in some grim, big-deal drama like Blood Diamond, and there’s absolutely nothing, at all, to distract you from her performance. I still respect her talent, but her makeover has brought her full circle, and once again, entertaining sexual thoughts about her feels wrong somehow. Sadly, I suspect that was kind of the point.



  1. This is one of my favorite columns. You are a wonderful writer.

    Comment by Rebecca Cucu — March 16, 2007 @ 8:55 pm | Reply

  2. I feel the exact same way. I also had a HUGE crush on her around the time of Rocketeer. I just don’t get that deathly-skinny look so many young actresses have today. It’s about as attractive as a 5,000 year-old Egyptian mummy…

    Comment by Ronin — March 17, 2007 @ 8:05 pm | Reply

  3. I know how you feel cos I’m her fan and I’ve been supporting her since Labyrinth. But somewhere along the way as she metamorphosise to fit into the expectations of Hollywood, it’s as though I’ve lost “Sarah’ somewhere along the way. I think the brave, strong-willed Sarah of Labyrinth wouldn’t have caved in to these Hollywood executives and starved her way into acclaim. But it’s humiliating stripping and being leered at for your assets only. I understand and I try and respect, but undeniably the sense of loss is overwhelming. her old nose was the most beautiful thing in the world! And she looked as sweet and cute whenever she turned to show her side profile. Now you are right, she looks like a Eyptian mummy. 😦

    Comment by Anne — November 24, 2009 @ 8:36 am | Reply

  4. I have really felt this way about Jennifer – she was a fantastic actress AND incredibly sexy and womanly (I am a woman) and that was too much for some people (male casting directors). It makes me sick and angry. They couldn’t deal with her beauty and power, so they had to control it.

    Comment by Claire Robertson — January 20, 2016 @ 6:20 pm | Reply

  5. I am honestly extremely uncomfortable with the way all of you are talking about Jennifer. In this article, you criticise Hollywood and the film industry for reacting to nothing but her body and her looks, but that’s exactly what you’re doing. She doesn’t exist for you to have a crush on. She’s stated that she hated doing Career Opportunities because of the way her character was sexualized and how uncomfortable it made her. I hate this culture that makes it somehow okay to noveltize and objectify women to the point that their very bodies become public domain. She isn’t there to fuel your sexual thoughts about her, who gives a shit how much weight she’s lost. The first half of this article comes off as creepy as hell, and the second part condescending. I don’t know how someone could get that view of Jennifer in Labyrinth, unless they never actually watched the movie. She’s a woman, a whole human being. She doesn’t deserve to be reduced to her body and other people’s feelings on how it looks and makes them feel.

    Comment by H — March 19, 2016 @ 2:43 am | Reply

    • H, I wrote this article a very long time ago. For various reasons, I wouldn’t write it today. That’s not to say I agree with all of your points, but this feels like an argument we probably should have had 10 years ago.

      This article was supposed to be mostly a personal essay, a warts-and-all thing about my own obsession with Connelly over the years. It got kind of muddled and also became an essay about the struggles I saw in Connelly’s career, as an actress who went from child star to bimbo roles to acclaim as a serious actress. I started in zines and was inspired by the really raw, confessional writing of people like Darby Romeo and Lisa Carver. I was always trying to do stuff like that in OC Weekly, at the same time I was trying to do my job as an arts and entertainment writer. That mix made for some strange columns, some that worked and some that didn’t.

      Even if I could take issue with some of your points, I’m not going to defend this column today. It’s something from another life.

      Comment by gregstacy — March 19, 2016 @ 5:00 am | Reply

RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URI

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at

%d bloggers like this: