“I don’t fucking think of that,” he claims, with this half-comic ambiguity. “Why am I achieving this interview that is fucking? You’re planning to destroy my acting.”

“I don’t fucking think of that,” he claims, with this half-comic ambiguity. “Why am I achieving this interview that is fucking? You’re planning to destroy my acting.”

Joaquin Phoenix is, as he informs me at one point, “as sensitive as any motherfucker is.” He rescued from euthanasia 13 years ago when I show up to his mission-style bungalow on a steep canyon road in the Hollywood Hills, he’s in the kitchen boiling a pot of sweet potatoes for his vegan dogs, Oskar and Soda, the latter a large white pit bull mix. Soda comes with a sensitivity to sunlight that is direct which means that she must certanly be held from the sunlight from nine to five. Phoenix purchased her a particularly made suit to attend the coastline. “She appears therefore fucking cool but she doesn’t want it,” he claims.

He lives with Mara, whom as well as playing their ex-wife in her own had been Mary Magdalene to Phoenix’s Jesus Christ into the Garth Davis-directed Mary Magdalene. (“Obviously it is a component I became simply created to try out,” Phoenix says dryly.) He thought Mara despised him through the creating of Her but later on discovered she had been simply timid and in actual fact liked him too. […]