Why Jennifer Coolidge matters so much to her gay superfans
What is the Jennifer Coolidge effect? Jonny Mahon-Heap, a devoted superfan, tries to pin her down.
love Jennifer Coolidge. I love the way she says ‘‘Hiiii’’, as though she’s been waiting for you for a lifetime. I love how her voice sounds like spun sugar, like gilded twine, with all its eccentricities that draw you in.
I love that, like any diva, a level of myth attends Coolidge and her life in Hollywood. Coolidge told The Guardian she would bribe her way into Studio 54 with claims she was Ernest Hemingway’s longlost granddaughter, dressing in a grandiose fashion.
‘‘I’d turn up to New York clubs and tell them I was Muffin Hemingway, the granddaughter who wasn’t Mariel or Margaux.’’
I love the way she sells her own stories to the press, intermingling them with myths, so much so that we will never know the difference: about faking being Hemingway’s daughter to gain access to clubs, about pretending to be two women to date twins, and about being in love with a policeman.
I love the way she took the role with the lowest stakes in The White Lotus and won the highest accolades, all while shimmying through her acceptance speech.
I love that she turned the worst part of the night, being played off by the orchestra during her speech, into its best moment – raising more woops, yells, and shuddering cries, bringing the audience to fanfare with her simple, signature greeting: ‘‘Heeeey. Hiiiii.’’
I love that Jennifer Coolidge has won an Emmy. #CoolidgeHive rise up!
For a generation of young girls, gays, and theys, Coolidge is Paulette Bonafonte, the sultry, sweet nail technician from Legally Blonde.
‘‘I’m a middle-aged, high-school dropout with stretch marks and a fat ass,’’ she says, in one of the most iconic lines in
90s history.
Coolidge’s path from talented C-List star of the American Pie films, to Promising Young Woman, and her leading Netflix series The White Lotus, embodies the underdog myth that gays love to champion – Judy Garland is the most accurate and enduring example.
Coolidge’s character names have always been as camp as anything: Paulette Bonafonte, Sherri Ann and Mrs Belinda Wellington.
In her primary roles in The White Lotus and Legally Blonde she plays women on the verge of a nervous breakdown: but why is it that gay men often feel such an affinity to protagonists in these conditions?
Coolidge’s role as cocktail-swilling, unhinged Tanya McQuoid in The White Lotus was a comeback for a start – in a fitting role about an heiress who has everything, but has lost it all.
Coolidge always plays it funny, but not laughable, exploring the idea of being lovesick in a way that is pathetic and camp.
Her character delights gay men everywhere, as a splendid monument in how to abide heartbreak (usually by prolific use of credit cards).
Despite Coolidge’s charms, her character finds herself on the outside in The White Lotus – divorced, older than the rest, unable to connect with anyone she isn’t paying.
Her character delights gay men everywhere, as a splendid monument in how to abide heartbreak (usually by prolific use of credit cards).
Gay men reserve a special place in their hearts for such female entertainers: they seem to understand judgment and suffering. Coolidge plays up the idea of being pathetic to a