One can easily imagine a world in which Gwyneth Paltrow, Katherine Heigl, and Charlize Theron were three humorless garbage peas in a nightmare pod. They would go around together on weekday afternoons to various sidewalk cafes after shopping with their personal trainers for “motivation” dresses two sizes too small, applying Israeli mineral oils bottled at the Dead Sea to their perfectly tanned skin as they drink white wine out of the skulls of the less fortunate. Over a dish of caviar canapes they would trade self-congratulatory anecdotes, all of which taper off in a directionless stream of compliments and petty complaints. Afterwards, they would each kiss each other on both cheeks and insist that their personal assistants arrange the next outing, while condescendingly making some kind of remark, like, “I don’t know what I would do without [my assistant], the truth is that I consider us complete equals.” And then they would each get into their respective hybrid-fuel helicopters to fly back to their Victorian castles.
But somehow Charlize Theron seems different. Unlike those other two, she seems to have a sense of humor, and a certain amount of self-awareness. Plus she won the silver medal at the Olympics, so.