Curled up on the sofa at the Regency in upper Manhattan, wearing a beautiful check Helmut Lang picnic-check dress and Christian Louboutin shoes, her fluffy white rescue dog Chaplin foraging in the corner of the room somewhere, Chastain couldn’t cut a more immaculate contrast with her pallid, cargo-pant-clad obsessive. With her radiant mane of red hair and lily-white skin, Chastain comes across like a California-bred Botticelli, mixing the freckled au naturel charms of a Spacek with the big-boned acting chops of a Blanchett. When I first met her, she also had her leg in a sling after an accident on a motor-cross bike; she now bears a small scar below her left knee. I tell her it was the first sign I got that she had something like Zero Dark Thirty in her — all that cussing! “You mean that the Botticelli had some fire?” she says. “You know what’s so funny. Do you want to know why that is? I never swear. I very rarely swear so maybe when I say it has a little more fire. Because I've saved it up."
Jan 11, 2013
INTERVIEW: Jessica Chastain
From my Sunday Times interview with Jessica Chastain:—