But you may not know Mila Kunis has a cure for the common cold. Our very sick writer Michael Idov goes to interview her and ends up getting nursed back to health. With Cabernet. Click here to read the full piece.
Twelve hours before I’m scheduled to meet Mila Kunis, I lose my voice. I don’t mean I can’t nail the free in “The Star-Spangled Banner.” I mean the only sound my throat is capable of delivering is a deeply creepy rasp best suited to the phrase get in my van.
It’s a predicament straight out of a mediocre sitcom, which is appropriate. Like everyone else, I first laid eyes on Kunis in the weirdly resilient That ’70s Show. But it wasn’t until this year’s anti-rom-com Friends with Benefits (written for Kunis and Justin Timberlake) that we were introduced to fully formed Star Mila: sardonic, brassy, effortlessly real, the girl we couldn’t get out of our heads since Forgetting Sarah Marshall. The girl I am now about to present with my impression of a Tuvan throat singer.
Dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, Kunis meets me in the lobby of her apartment building in suburban Detroit, where she is shooting Oz: The Great and Powerful, Sam Raimi’s massive prequel to The Wizard of Oz. (She’s a witch.) It takes one screeched “Hi!” for the interview agenda to go out the window. “Oh, I feel so bad! You’re so siiick!” she coos. “Let’s get you better.” She takes me to a nearby Japanese restaurant for miso soup; it’s closed, but they open for Kunis, a weekly customer. “Cough away,” she instructs me over crab hand rolls. “Don’t hold it in! You’ve got to let it out! Don’t worry about me. I’ll just take some vitamins later.” I have unwittingly stumbled upon the one side of Kunis that hasn’t shown up in movies yet: the Jewish mother.