Stewart, in town filming Ang Lee’s military drama Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk, is not, and has never been, any of those things. She spent years being taken to task for striking doleful poses on the red carpet, or not shining in talk-show settings, or daring to have desires beyond those the public prescribed to her because they believed they had the right to shape her persona since she was a young girl in a series of blockbuster films based on best-selling books. Finally, she decided to embrace the rebel labels thrown her way and say, “Fuck it all!”
“I lit my universe on fire,” she admits with a sly smile, “and I watched it burn.” Stewart drops her head, tugs at the hem of her simple black sweatshirt. Fans away a mosquito. Yanks a fallen tube sock from its cotton pool in her Converse sneaker. “Speaking very candidly,” she says at last, lifting her chin and swallowing a gulp of her vodka tonic, “it was a really traumatic period in my early 20s that kick-started something in me that was a bit more,” she pauses, then settles on the word, “feral.”
KSF-MCA2015 by LJMD
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