”That was a great interview,” coos Colin Firth, shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest, hair tousled, mod teal suit snug on his 6’2” frame. He nuzzles close to the reporter, a pretty young thing, and pours a sip of champagne into her mouth, then slips in a small pill, another sip.
It’s not easy being a journalist when you’re watching another one — albeit a fake one — get the seduction treatment from Firth, the actor responsible for more than his share of swoons and weak knees from those with a libido and a Pride and Prejudice DVD.
But drugging a college reporter? Dressed in a sleazy getup? This is not the Colin Firth who’s launched a thousand websites, whose dreamy Mr. Darcy turned the BBC miniseries of the Jane Austen classic into period porn. This is definitely not the reluctant romantic he’s perfected time and again in Bridget Jones’s Diary, Love Actually, Girl With a Pearl Earring, and, yes, even What a Girl Wants.
Probably because — and brace yourself, women — Colin Firth is not Mr. Darcy. And right now he’s making that very, very clear.