Even on the best of days, I'm never the one commenting on the news of the day. I'm often barely aware of what is going on beyond the fog of what is happening in my immediate vicinity (with the exception of the abortion ban last year).
Today I was shocked out of my fog.
I remember hearing about Adrienne Shelly's murder last year. Shelly wrote and directed Waitress. When I read about it, it didn't register - I didn't recognize her name or picture, and while it was sad that she'd been killed, I didn't have a connection to her death because I didn't know who she was.
Shelly was murdered last November. Today in class, I showed a clip from Rosanna Arquette's documentary, Searching for Debra Winger, which is about being a woman in the film industry. What I like about this film is that it offers a rare chance to see my favorite stars talk openly and honestly about their experiences. I feel like I get to know them a little bit because they are being real people, not characters. Adrienne Shelly is interviewed in the film and has a memorable moment in which she tells a story about being turned down for a part because the producer "didn't like [her] tits." It's a very real story, and Shelly could be an acquaintance or friend, sharing this story from her life in an intimate way. And every time I've watched this documentary, I've felt, on some level, close to these women.
But until today, I never knew that Adrienne Shelly was the person who was murdered. I never put the woman in the documentary and the creator of Waitress together in my head. And so I found out today that she was gone, and it felt almost as if I had found out that a friend of mine had died.
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