BY: Anne T. Donahue
Like most of us, my introduction to Stanley Tucci left an indelible mark. Age 11 and at my best friend’s house, I sat watching It Could Happen to You and reacted the same way anybody else in my position would: confused as to why I was supposed to root for Nicolas Cage. This man was no romantic lead and yet I was supposed to believe that in some lottery-winning reality, he and Bridget Fonda would fall in love.
And that’s when Stanley Tucci showed up. Shirtless, in a towel, and eating his estranged wife’s (Bridget Fonda) macadamia nuts (after letting himself into her home uninvited — admittedly, an egregious invasion of privacy), I was infuriated by his brazenness and entitlement. He seemed the anti-Christ to Cage’s holier-than-thou. I hated and loved him in equal measure.
SOURCE: https://www.vulture.com
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