Nothing stops Courtney Love -- she's been arrested, hauled off to Bellevue, but she hasn't quit speaking her mind
By Neva Chonin, San Francisco Chronicle
Monday, October 25, 2004
There's a scene in director Alex Cox's 1987 film, "Straight to Hell, " in which a disheveled gun moll played by Courtney Love drives over a cliff with her gangster boyfriend. Courtney's screams provide a soundtrack as the car flies through the air, crashes and burns ... and burns. Courtney continues screaming. Her lungs are still going strong long after the car, her character inside, is an ashen husk. The moral: Nothing -- not crashing, not burning, not death itself -- will shut this girl up.
Bravado and tenacity have always been Courtney Love's strong points. They still are. "I'm living the high life here at the Sunset Marquis,'' she shouts over the phone from Los Angeles. The sound of conversation and bustling bodies cuts over the wire. "And I'm confused. There's too much s -- going on."
That's an understatement. The freshly clean-and-sober Love sounds defiantly upbeat, but her residence at the West Hollywood hotel has a less cheery subtext: Having temporarily lost custody of her daughter, Frances Bean, the singer is staying in a hotel close to the home where her daughter lives with a guardian. It makes visiting easier.
Separation from her child with her late husband, Kurt Cobain, is just one among many hurdles facing Love, who plays the Fillmore on Tuesday as part of a string of California shows with her new band, the Chelsea. The singer is toiling to put her career back on track after a string of self-induced catastrophes. "America's Sweetheart," her ragged but often riveting solo debut (and first album in six years), has sold a paltry 100,000 copies, in contrast to earlier platinum-scoring CDs with her group, Hole.
In July, on her 40th birthday, a judge issued a bench warrant for Love's arrest after she failed to turn up for a scheduled court appearance. This, even as she was carted from her New York condominium to Bellevue Hospital for an indeterminate ailment, handcuffed and incoherent. At last count, she was embroiled in three criminal court cases on charges ranging from drug possession to assault, had been ordered into rehab and still faces a potential prison sentence. A tour earlier this year was canceled because of her legal morass.
At the Sunset Marquis, Love discusses her travails with a gloomy hilarity. "I'm a brand at this point. A jail brand,'' she says, lighting a cigarette. "The arrests, all that s -- , it's institutionalized and codified around me. But it's not the worst thing in the world. I want to do a Christmas show at a California women's prison, where all the chicks are hot drug mules. I think I'll do the Johnny Cash thing. It's going to be my black-and-white, 'Don't Look Back,' Renoir, 'O, Brother Where Art Thou' cinema-verite phase.''
Oh, why not. There is a hyperbolic, noirish quality to Love's recent history. Earlier this month, she pleaded guilty to disorderly conduct for hitting a man in the head with a microphone stand during a March concert at New York's Plaid nightclub (she was ordered to pay $2,236 in restitution and stay out of trouble for a year). Her current 18-month stretch in rehab stems from an October2003, incident in which she was arrested for disturbing the peace at the home of Jim Barber, her former boyfriend and manager. At the same time, she tested positive for cocaine and opiates; and later that night, she was treated for an overdose that led to yet more drug charges and the loss of her daughter. Love also faces a court date stemming from an April brawl in which she allegedly smacked musician Kristin King -- with a flashlight and a liquor bottle.
So it goes. It goes and it goes and it goes. And Love goes with it, taking responsibility for landing herself in this swamp of woe. "Some of it was just being an impulsive, reckless woman," she says. "How many fugitives from justice do you know who are chicks? I'm a fugitive for life. It just adds to my wannabe-rebel status.
"Like any -- hole in a rock cliche, I was doing cocaine, and I was getting progressively worse. At one point, Carrie (Fisher) came bursting in to my apartment to rescue me and said, 'I can't believe you're doing the most embarrassing drug in the world!' But it was par for the course. This is American culture: You all end up on coke as you get older and anxious. I have a drug addiction that I have to deal with."
Besides making for great tabloid news, being carted off to Bellevue on her birthday forced Love to face up to the fact that her elegantly wasted lifestyle had crossed over into full-blown chemical dementia.
"One can't say one is slumming when one is taken off to Bellevue," she admits. "When it was happening, I thought, this would be an interesting picture -- if it wasn't of me. I didn't need to see Bellevue; I didn't need to have crazy identified with my name. But that drug causes psychosis, and it was that or jail."
When talk turns to her custody troubles and her daughter, Love's voice audibly wilts. "It's painful and horrifying and disgusting bull -- ,'' she says. "I'm in a lot of pain about it. But she's a solid kid with a solid core, and I've done a damn good job. She's a very decent and stable person.
"I have to build my s -- back up. Buy into this program thing, be a good program girl. I'm not going to give them one reason to pick on me. I volunteer actively and aggressively to pee in a cup for them.''
Love perks up as she describes the vicissitudes of her new, sober lifestyle. "I went to a 12-step meeting with Carrie and Marianne Faithfull," she dishes. "There's a really famous one down here where the men have to wear suits and the women have to wear dresses. It was like walking into the Oxford Club. It felt like Christian temperance, the Salvation Army, 1930. Lots of self-flagellation. I loved it.''
There are other bright spots in Love's mercurial life. "Princess Ai," a manga novel she co-created and whose main character is based on Love, is a bestseller in Japan, and she received decent reviews for her July appearance at the Fuji Rock Festival. She's also been hosting a weekly radio show on KDLD/KDLE-FM 103.1 in Los Angeles.
Most important, she's onstage again. Fittingly, it's been 10 years since Love played the Fillmore (though she's played other, larger Bay Area venues in the interim): In 1994, she and Hole turned in a wounded, erratic Fillmore performance only six months after her husband's suicide. The years that followed saw Love transmute from punk icon and widow to rock star and actress, with the success of 1994's "Live Through This'' and 1998's "Celebrity Skin'' CDs and her acclaimed role in 1996's "The People Vs. Larry Flynt.''
Now, like a battered Phoenix, she's back. The San Francisco-born Love admits she's a little nervous. "But I'm gonna rock the Fillmore, which is my birthright," she says. "I've got a Crazy Horse of a band. A lot of these songs are old, and I'm not into that. But they're really good. There are five songs that I really love on ('America's Sweetheart'), so f -- the world. You can always tell an artist's mettle by their relationship to their failed songs that are still good songs. I'm having to own some of that.''
She lights another cigarette. "I've had tons of failure; failed marriage No. 1, failed marriage No. 2, failed family life. But I've never had a professional failure like this. Ouch! But I've not partaken of the bitter pill yet. This is America. I get to have a third act. I get to come back.''
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