At some point last summer, Bowen Yang lost his grip on who he was. For months, he’d been flying back and forth between New York, where he’s in the cast of “Saturday Night Live,” and London, where he was shooting the movie musical “Wicked,” playing a snarky schoolmate of Glinda the Good Witch. Lorne Michaels, his boss at “S.N.L.,” had warned him about the exhausting schedule. “I have my nootropics for focus, and I have my CBD oils for sleep. I can really overcome this,” Yang recalled thinking. “And I didn’t, and I couldn’t.”
During “Wicked,” he’d spend hours getting into his elaborate costume, makeup, and toupee. Sometimes he’d sit in his trailer all day without being called to set once—standard procedure for a big-budget movie, but the jet lag and the tedium wore him down. “It was a gradual accumulation of idling, getting dressed up with nowhere to go, feeling like it was sanding down whatever I had preserved from the week before at ‘S.N.L.’—whatever was left over of my psychic tolerance,” he said. He started telling himself that the good things in his life had been flukes, that his success had all been a terrible mistake. He wondered whether residual trauma was surfacing from his teen years, when his parents sent him to gay-conversion therapy.
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة September 23, 2024 من The New Yorker.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 9,000 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك ? تسجيل الدخول
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة September 23, 2024 من The New Yorker.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 9,000 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك? تسجيل الدخول
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HEAVY SNOW HAN KANG
Kyungha-ya. That was the entirety of Inseon’s message: my name.
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Reckoning with Donald Trump's return to power.
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COLOR INSTINCT
Jadé Fadojutimi, a British painter, sees the world through a prism.
THE FAMILY PLAN
The pro-life movement’ new playbook.
President for Sale - A survey of today's political ads.
On a mid-October Sunday not long ago sun high, wind cool-I was in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, for a book festival, and I took a stroll. There were few people on the streets-like the population of a lot of capital cities, Harrisburg's swells on weekdays with lawyers and lobbyists and legislative staffers, and dwindles on the weekends. But, on the façades of small businesses and in the doorways of private homes, I could see evidence of political activity. Across from the sparkling Susquehanna River, there was a row of Democratic lawn signs: Malcolm Kenyatta for auditor general, Bob Casey for U.S. Senate, and, most important, in white letters atop a periwinkle not unlike that of the sky, Kamala Harris for President.
