(Alexandra Jacobs’s article appeared in The New York Times, 10/29; via Pam Green.)
“You make me sound like a whore,” the movie star Bradley Cooper said, sitting with his sock feet hanging over the edge of a bed.
Alas, we were not sharing charged banter in his hotel room downtown, but 20 feet away from each other in a chilly rehearsal studio on 42nd Street in Manhattan, along with a director, three other actors, a publicist, a stage manager and a smattering of crew members.