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No matter the rumours, no matter the truth, Hollywood convention dictates that all actors describe whatever cast they’ve been part of as “one big happy family”. This rule being broken, and by a true legend – albeit 33 years later – means something serious must have taken place. Which it did.
In a new interview with Vanity Fair, Meryl Streep has disclosed that she had “beef” with her Death Becomes Her co-star Goldie Hawn because she was always late for filming. “She had a red convertible, I remember, and she’d drive herself to set. She had her hair all … ‘Oh gosh, sorry!’ And everybody thought: ‘Oh, she’s so cute.’”
Questioned about these allegations, Hawn cheerfully confessed, laughing: “I think I’m 15 minutes late to everything. I do. I mean, honestly, it’s unbelievable. But it is our joke, she said I was too late on the set. Maybe she’s too early. I don’t know.”
Streep made sure to clarify that she wasn’t holding a grudge against Hawn – “I loved her. I love her. She’s one of my buddies” – and seemed genuine. But then again, that is literally her job and, perhaps you’ve heard, she’s not half bad at it. Honestly, it would have been more helpful, more of a public service, if she hadn’t added that extra detail, which dilutes the central message: it is never cute to be late.
With all due respect to Hawn, she unfortunately seems to be the worst possible kind of late: unapologetic and delighted to make it their entire personality. When she says she “thinks” she’s 15 minutes late for everything, I bet I know who could tell her precisely how long it is: whoever is waiting for her.
Much like cutting the amount you drink or smoke by at least half when the doctor asks, it’s safe to hazard a guess that Hawn’s “15 minutes” may not be wholly accurate. Or that if she, or someone of her ilk, texts to say they’re five minutes away that’s also an … improvisation. Not that this kind of remorseless, habitually tardy type tends to send unsolicited updates on their whereabouts. Part of the fun of hanging out with them is apparently the surprise element of just when said hang will commence.
For them, being late is weaponised incompetence – see how Hawn talks as though she has no control of it. It’s an endearing affliction, which happens to her, and is totally out of her hands. This is typical, sadly. And the uncomfortable fact nobody really wants to acknowledge or confess to is the message you are sending by being late: my time is more valuable than yours. Easy to read more into it than that, too – might as well amuse yourself while you’re kicking your heels. If it’s a business meeting, this could be a power play; if it’s a friend, it’s tough not to see it as an indication of how important the relationship is to them. Would they manage to be on time for a date with Harry Styles? Exactly.
Most persistently unpunctual people manage to surround themselves with enablers. Even Streep followed up her comments by saying: “But she was so adorable. And I’m always on time, you know, and annoying.”
Being on time is, of course, not annoying, unless you live in Opposite Land. And Streep is also not saying what those who are always on time know to be true: to ensure we aren’t late, often we end up being accidentally early. And that being early, or right on time, can make you feel like a bit of an overkeen saddo when whoever you’re waiting for is prompt. But if they’re not? Oh, the shame. Especially as, when they do eventually arrive, you’ll have to put your Streep skills to the test by pretending to peruse a menu you already know off by heart.
There is only one situation where it’s acceptable – well-mannered, considerate even – to be late, and that’s going to somebody’s house for dinner, and only by five to 10 minutes. For every other situation, nope. Obviously there are unforeseen extenuating circumstances now and then, for which you should simply apologise, without making excuses. No, you are not a tidsoptimist, the Swedish term for those who are “time optimists”, and thus believe a half hour journey can be made in 10 minutes. Being fashionably late has gone right out of style. If in doubt, remember this reality check: no one, not even Goldie Hawn, is worth the wait.
Polly Hudson is a freelance writer
