Wednesday 3 June 2009

How To Seduce Natalie Portman

It is a dark and sobering moment in a man's life when he realises that the closest he will ever come to a long-lasting relationship with the love of his life is that she might sign his Star Wars stuff, if he asks nicely.

Or is it? This week on Emotionally Fourteen, I, Brad Harmer, will be conducting field research, to see if I can successfully woo Natalie Portman AKA The Most Beautiful Girl In The World.

So, how does one successfully score with the most talented actress of our generation? Simple. You try to a) show a deep understanding of her psyche, and b) show an appreciation for her work. And these two can be combined in a surprisingly easy way. After all, an actress must be attracted to parts that appeal to her, right? So, therefore, if I copy everything that her love interests in the films do, that's a shoe-in, right? I mean, how can this possibly end up with me in prison, right?

The Other Boleyn Girl

Mission objectives

  • Divorce Catherine of Aragon
  • Shag Natalie Portman's sister
  • Get Natalie Portman's sister pregnant
This starts off hard. Firstly, in order to divorce Catherine of Aragon, I'm going to have to marry her. And this is going to prove pretty hard considering that she died nearly 475 years ago. And she has no living descendants. So, I decided to take a step sideways, and run with a crafty e-mail:

Dear Viggo Mortensen,

I can't get a hold of Catherine of Aragon, as she's dead. And I don't know anyone else called Catherine. So, you're the best bet I've got, as "Aragon" sounds a bit like "Aragorn". Look, it's good enough for me at this point. I refuse to fall at the first hurdle simply because by accident of history the woman I need to divorce has pretty certainly decayed to dust by now. And I know we were never married. Just FUCK OFF and let me do this, okay?

Anyway, I'm sorry Viggy-baby, but it's over between us. Basically, I need to see other people. Natalie Portman to be precise. I admire your rugged good looks, and I totally loved you in Texas Chainsaw Massacre III, but it's over. There's nothing between us anymore.

Please send me half your shit,

Bradley Alexander Tiberius Harmer

The next step was simple. All I had to do was to shag Natalie Portman's sister. The problem being that Natalie Portman is an only child. It's hard to shag a non-existent sister. It's even harder to get them pregnant.

I can't recommend this method. I expended a lot of effort trying to trace down a non-existent sibling, and, thanks to the assitance of the Idaho State Police Department, I am no longer allowed within 200 yards of Viggo Mortensen.

V For Vendetta

Mission objectives:

  • Keep her in a cell
  • Shave her head
  • Make her think that she's going to die
  • Blow up the Houses of Parliament
Right, here's the bad news first: keeping Natalie Portman locked up in a cell is a lot harder than this film makes it out to be. Getting the jump on her to start with is hard enough. She has really pointy elbows, and she isn't afraid to use them.

Anyway, I arrived at her hotel where she was doing some promotion for some Vegan charity or whatnot, and disguised myself as a bellboy. This took much longer than originally anticipated, as the hotel didn't have any bellboys. In any event, I sneaked a look at the register to see where she was staying. I made my way up to her room, and rapped lightly on the door. Sure enough, the lady herself answered.

"Hello," she said, beautiful as ever. "I don't think I ordered any room service."

"No, you misunderstand me, Miss Hershlag." I said, in a thick Dutch accent. "My name is Rutger, and I am here to...check the room for rogue bells."

"Rogue bells?" she asked, confusion screwing her pretty face.

"Uh...yeah...why not?" I cunningly bluffed. I pushed into the room and began peering under her bed, palming a pair of underwear that had fallen there. "You get stuff like that in these old places."

When Natalie turned around to close the door, I leapt to my feet and tried to grab her, a la Hugo Weaving. Unfortunately, the reclaimed pants fell out of my hand, and caught around my foot, causing me to fall over, swearing loudly. Natalie was at first concerned I'd hurt myself, but then her surprise turned to fury when she realised I'd dropped something Dutch accent!

I've done a lot of things for this website, but suffering several elbow drops at the hands of a diminiutive, Jewish, vegan actress has to be one of my lowest so far.

Or I couldn't find the hotel and went home again. Whichever you'd prefer to believe.

Star Wars: Episode III - Backstroke of the West

Look, if he hasn't got a lob on in that picture, he's fucking gay.

Mission Objectives
  • Maim Samuel L. Jackson
  • Kill a bunch of children
  • Choke her into unconciousness
The first thing I did was to watch Episode III again, because it's cock-burningly awesome.

I managed to track down Samuel L. Jackson fairly easily. This didn't actually require any elaborate tracking, research, kidnapping, or bugging. All I had to do was advertise that I was holding open auditions for a action/comedy/gangster movie, and required an African-American actor to hurl almost funny one-liners. Lo, and behold, Samuel L. Jackson arrived at the audition. So did Chris Tucker, but I managed to dispose of him with a glass tumbler and a coaster.

"Hi, Samuel L." I said, sitting opposite the chair from him. "Big fan of your work."

"Thanks." said the star of such movies as The Exorcist III, Eddie Murphy Raw and Iron Man. "I appreciate you giving me the opportunity to...OOOF!"

I flung myself across the small table, machete swinging wildly. "Sorry, Mr L. Jackson, star of such movies as Jungle Fever and three episodes of Ghostwriter! But this is for the greatest thing in the world. True love!"

Samuel staggered back eyes widening in shock. "What the fuck is this? I didn't come here for no Jason Voorhees shit!"

Man, he was a funny guy...the way he managed to say the word shit at precisely the right moment...the way he culturally referenced another film. Truly, he was the greatest actor of our times.

I leapt onto him with a bloodcurdling scream, and raising the machete, learnt the hard way that a lot of celebrities carry taser guns.

I can't recommend any of these methods, I'm afraid. At the start I was hopeful that I'd be happily married to Natalie Portman by now, but instead I found myself spasming on the floor of a church hall, a small patch of urine staining the front of my trousers, whilst Chris Tucker helped himself to the contents of my wallet. All in all, it wasn't the best birthday I'd ever had, but it certainly wasn't the worst either.


  1. Sigh... so many men make this mistake! If only he'd had the nerve and common sense to just ask me out, we could have been having veggie burgers on the French Riviera this evening!

    Oh, well... I suppose it was a lucky escape. He sounds like a bit of a psycho.

  2. Viggo Mortensen6 June 2009 at 14:18

    I did a whopper shit this morning, carved it carefully in half with the only implement to hand (my secret mistress' beautifully pointed elbows) and tucked it as neatly as possible into a watertight Jiffy bag.

    The whiffy jiffy is on its way to you right now. Enjoy half my shit.

    Viggy Baby xo