![]() ![]() The ferry tacks across the choppy water to Greenpoint, where Culkin and his wife, Jazz Charton, bought an apartment a little over a year ago. Shirt, Celine by Hedi Slimane trousers by Craig Green Love necklace and Tank Must watch by Cartier ID necklace by Pattaraphan chain bracelet by Chrome Hearts Gem Dior bracelet by Dior Fine Jewelry Serpenti Viper ring by Bulgari Rolex watch, Culkin’s own. “But then I’ll see this and I’ll go, Yeah, this is it. “Sometimes I kind of hate living here,” he says almost wistfully. Culkin gazes on Manhattan: the spires of towering skyscrapers drilled into the bedrock of midtown, the long, low swoop of neighborhoods on the island’s eastern flank, the rabbit warren of the Financial District at the southern tip, all haloed by the fading sunlight. What are the stages of grief? I don’t know which one I’m in right now. All I know is I feel kind of down,” Culkin says. “I haven’t had a fucking moment to think about how I feel about it. But at the moment, none of them are as enticing as being at home with his wife and kids.įor a guy who’s always been ambivalent about acting as a career but at the same time revels in the work itself, this is a tough situation. “There cannot be a better job on the planet for an actor,” he says. He’s received two Emmy and three Golden Globe nominations last year, he won a Critics Choice Award. The show has raised his profile and his reputation. Over his six years on the show, he’s become a father bought his first place, in Greenpoint, Brooklyn and moved from the island he’d lived on for his entire life. It marks the end of a transformative time for Culkin. It’s been four days since he returned from filming the final scenes of the fourth season of Succession, which its creator, Jesse Armstrong, recently announced will be its last. Play icon The triangle icon that indicates to play “Sometimes you can’t see it, and then I’m out here and I’m like, Oh, yeah, there’s stuff,” he says. He says he finds it easier to think about his possibility-filled future when he’s floating along the river rather than sitting around at home. ![]() A few hours ago, Culkin texted me, “Want to take a very cold ride to I don’t know where?” This is where he comes to process, to seek solace, to clear his head-a ritual he began after his cat Leo died, in 2016, just weeks before shooting the Succession pilot. It’s an evening in early March, and we’re roaming. Culkin, of course, knows firsthand what it’s like to grow up in a family under public scrutiny. “Watching you people melt down is the most deeply satisfying activity on planet earth,” a daughter of another dynastic family says to one of the Roys in the show’s second season.īut on a deeper, or at least more emotionally resonant level, it’s a story about family and the struggle to live up to your own legacy. The show skewers the 1 percent while assuring us that for all their wealth, the Roys are no happier or less foible-prone than the plebes. Culkin plays Roman, who’s potentially the heir to his father, Logan, as head of the empire. Billy Kidd Photographyīut also, he hasn’t exercised regularly, or maybe at all, in five years, since before the premiere of Succession, HBO’s black dramedy about the excessively rich and comically power-thirsty Roy family, owners of a fictional global media behemoth. Knit and trousers by Emporio Armani tank by CDLP Tank Must watch by Cartier chain bracelet by Chrome Hearts Gem Dior bracelet by Dior Fine Jewelry Serpenti Viper ring by Bulgari Rolex watch and rings, Culkin’s own. “Get a little paper cut on my finger nine days later, why do I still have a paper cut? It’s just fucking slow now.” Six months ago, “I turned forty and everything changed,” he says, now recovered. I follow him through the main cabin, out to the rear deck, up a flight of metal stairs, and over to a pair of seats that look off the port side, toward Manhattan. He gulps a few more breaths, stiffens, starts hacking. “I’m feeling”-inhale-“muscles”-inhale-“I didn’t know I could access,” he manages. His face flushes as if he’s been slapped. He doubles over, greedily sucking oxygen. Fists balled, arms pumping, he looks like he’s about to hit his stride just as we arrive and get in line. With each step, a lock of wispy hair bounces above the crown of his head like a metronome. As the boat we’re trying to catch pulls into view, he pushes faster still. We’re sprinting toward a ferry dock on the Manhattan side of the East River. Kieran Culkin sounds like he’s on mile twelve of a marathon, but he’s been running for only two minutes.
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