Tilda Swinton plays the mother of a psychotic sociopath crazy in the movie We Need To Talk About Crystals: The Spencer Pratt Story. No, she plays the mother of a teenager murderer in We Need To Talk About Kevin and she tells The Telegraph Magazine (via UsWeekly) that when she was just a little girl she almost earned a place in juvie death row because one day she looked at her baby brother with those Hermey the Misfit Elf eyes of her and thought to herself RED RUM! RED RUM! REEED RUM! Let this little story tuck you into the pocket of your nightmares tonight:
“Years ago, when James Bulger was murdered, every newspaper front page was talking about evil. At that point, having suppressed it for years, I remembered when I was four or five, I tried to kill my own brother. He was newly born and I was disappointed, because he was the third boy. That was enough as far as I was concerned.
I went into his room to kill him, saw some ribbons from a bonnet going into his mouth, and began to pull them out. And I was discovered saving his life. So I had this strange reputation – my brother’s savior – and no one knew I wanted to kill him. It took the Bulger case for me to remember that I’d seriously wanted to.”
This is why I feel a strange emotion called love for Tilda Swinton. One minute I want to lick her eyeball and the next minute I want to lick her eyeball while crying out of fear that she’ll bite my chin off bone and all. Tilda could add five doses of creepy to almost any story. I bet when she reads Goldilocks and the Three Bears to her twins, they end up crying for Jesus. Bitch has that effect.
And who hasn’t tried to kill their brother or sister? We all have. My sister and I could tell stories about how we tried to bash each other’s skulls in with Barbie cars and how she threw me into a dryer. If she was able to reach those knobs, I’d probably have pieces of charbroiled brain hanging out of one of my ear holes (which would be slightly better than the current state of my brain). It’s normal!
But you know that when Tilda goes to her brother’s house for Christmas, he only serves mashed potato soup, turkey dogs, cranberry sauce Popsicle and anything else that you don’t need a knife to eat. Ho isn’t about to be almost murdered by his sister again.