In that frantic final stretch between finishing my degree and waiting for the sweet release of summer, I chose to combat my stress by watching a childhood classic, 1982’s ET. My howls of anguish brought concerned housemates to my room, where I pointed at the screen and gasped, “It’s Gertie. She’s just so cute!” The film’s youngest character was played by cherubic child actor Drew Barrymore, and I knew then that I’d always have a soft spot for her.
Barrymore, now 42, is a Hollywood scion of the type we rarely see these days (Steven Spielberg is her godfather) and has a storied CV to match: drugs, booze and rehab, all precociously young.
But she powered through, and by the 90s was enjoying critical and commercial success at a clip. That’s my favourite Barrymore era: the classics Scream (1996), The Wedding Singer (1998) and, my second favourite Drew performance, Never Been Kissed (1999). Simply put, she radiates warmth: her smile is broad, her eyes are limpid pools, and her lisp is cute and distinctive. Her whole vibe is “aggressively gentle hippy” with an edge (a side-effect of her hardcore childhood?). Her coolness is inherent, and it makes her sexy in a breezy way. She wears many more hats now (she produced both Charlie’s Angels movies, and directed Whip It), but I love her best as an actor: my favourite Drew film is Going The Distance, an underrated but weirdly realistic and very funny romantic comedy.
Barrymore’s latest project is (the somewhat middling) Netflix horror comedy Santa Clarita Diet, about a fortysomething enjoying a surprising new lease of life. The metaphor is clangingly obvious. Shine on, Drew.
