Music Lists

In “Modern Love,” Anne Hathaway Shows Us Love Can’t Fix Bipolar Disorder

The show, based on Terri Cheney's column of the same title, provides a uniquely nuanced depiction of mental illness—and highlights the gaps that still exist in the ways we tell stories about it.

On the episode of Modern Love called "Take Me As I Am, Whoever I Am," Anne Hathaway's character Lexi spends half her time in bed.

She spends the other half of her life gallivanting around New York City, wearing sparkles and styling herself after famous actresses, asking out men in grocery stores and making up for the time and the lovers she lost while she was catatonically depressed.

At best, the episode is a uniquely nuanced depiction of real mental illness, emphasizing the fact that Hathaway's illness may not be easily curable, refusing the temptation to glamorize her symptoms or suffocate her with pity and pessimism. At worst, it still falls into some old traps and perhaps could've done a better job of explaining the specifics of Lexi's diagnosis and the actuality of what bipolar is and is not.

Like all the episodes of Amazon Prime's new series Modern Love, it's based on a real-life story published in The New York Times' column of the same name. Hathaway's character is based on an essay by a woman named Terri Cheney, who specifies in the first paragraph that she suffers from what she refers to as "ultrararidian rapid cycling."

There are many different forms of bipolar disorder, far more than the typical binary of Bipolar I and II imply. Bipolar I, the best-known type, involves periods of severe mania and severe depression, whereas with Bipolar II, the manic episodes are usually slightly less severe, though periods of depression can be extremely intense. With both of these types, lengths and symptoms of manic and depressive episodes can vary, though most people experience one or two cycles per year, with episodes lasting around 13 weeks, according to a 2010 study. Episodes can be triggered by events such as seasonal changes, trauma, or grief, but they can also happen naturally due to to the vicissitudes of brain chemistry and daily life. Sometimes symptoms of mania and depression can co-occur, and this is referred to as a mixed episode.

There are many other variants of bipolar disorder, including cyclothymic disorder, which describes brief periods of mania and depression that are slightly less severe than full-on Bipolar I or II. Then there's the kind of extremely rapid switching that Hathaway's character experienced. Affecting 10-15% of people diagnosed with bipolar disorder, rapid cycling is officially diagnosed when someone experiences four or more cycles in one year. Ultra-rapid cycling is when a person cycles through episodes in one month or less, and the sort that Cheney and Lexi have is called ultra-ultra-rapid cycling or ultradian cycling, which means that cycles can occur within a 24-hour period.

As with most mental illnesses, every person's diagnosis is different. For Cheney, ultradian cycling means that she'd often spend days or weeks in bed, only to awaken suddenly to the sound of birdsong and a feeling of euphoria. Like her TV adaption, Cheney tells us that she tried dozens of treatments, including dangerous electroshock therapy, while keeping her illness secret from friends and family and making up for her down periods by exceeding expectations when she was up. She was able to pull together a life, but all this didn't make dating easy. "When dating me, you might go to bed with Madame Bovary and wake up with Hester Prynne," she wrote in her Times column.

Refreshingly, neither Cheney's essay nor the TV adaption equates the right treatment or the perfect person with a cure and a happy ending. Instead, after following their protagonist through a failed relationship that began during a manic episode and quickly tanked when her mood turned, the essay and show end with a bit of realistic hope. "I've finally accepted that there is no cure for the chemical imbalance in my brain, any more than there is a cure for love," Cheney writes, lines that Hathaway repeats in the episode's conclusion. "But there's a little yellow pill I'm very fond of, and a pale blue one, and some pretty pink capsules, and a handful of other colors that have turned my life around."

MODERN LOVE Extended Trailer (NEW 2019) Anne Hathaway, Love Comedy Series

Battling the Stigma Onscreen: Violence, Love, and Bipolar Representation

While illnesses like depression and anxiety have become more socially acceptable and widely understood (although too often they're still not viewed as valid illnesses, instead treated like something that can be willfully overcome with a little yoga), bipolar and other personality disorders are still heavily stigmatized and misunderstood.

For example, people who suffer from personality disorders are far too frequently blamed for things like mass shootings, when actually only 3-5% of violent crimes are perpetrated by people with mental illnesses (and 97% of mass shooters are white males with histories of misogyny and domestic violence).

In reality, bipolar disorder has absolutely nothing to do with violence. It's also completely untrue that people with bipolar are unable to have relationships. Everyone is different, and people with bipolar disorder are just as capable (or incapable) of loving and being loved as anybody else.

While Hathaway/Cheney's illness appears to be unusually unpredictable, many people with mental illnesses can and do thrive in relationships. While unstable relationships can have particularly negative and triggering effects on people who suffer from mental illnesses, stable relationships of any kind can be incredibly beneficial. And while no one should use their mental illness as an excuse to use others as therapists or sole support systems, supportive friends, partners, and family members can be vital in terms of providing the kind of acceptance and structure that people with mental illness may have trouble giving themselves.

Still, it's a blessing that "Take Me As I Am, Whoever I Am" doesn't over-glamorize the effects or importance of relationships. Anne Hathaway's Lexi finds relief in confessing to a coworker about her illness, but there is no implication that the coworker will be able to heal her or support her in any way. Confession and interpersonal love are perhaps over-emphasized in some forms of modern mental health discourse, but premature or forced confessions can have negative consequences, and confession by no means make up for actual treatment, large systemic changes, or genuine external and acceptance. Sometimes, acceptance means accepting the reality of illness and treatment in all their ugly and unpalatable forms, a reality that is too often forgotten in exchange for the more palatable narrative that tells us that love can heal all wounds.

The Future of Bipolar on TV: Hopefully More Diverse, and Created by People Who Really Suffer from Mental Illness

For her part, Terri Cheney, a prolific writer who has written several memoirs about her experience with mental illness, is apparently very satisfied with Hathaway's nuanced portrayal. "When you think of the illness in terms of a familiar face, it's less frightening and easier to understand," she told Glamour. "That's why having someone as famous as Anne portray a woman with bipolar disorder is so terrific: It's an antidote to shame."

As in her essay, Cheney is quick to emphasize the fact that sometimes there is no cure to mental illness; it's not like you can just confess that you have it and expunge it from your brain chemistry. "After a lifetime of living with a mental illness, I've discovered that the most helpful thing someone can say to me when I'm suffering is, 'Tell me where it hurts,'" she added. "I don't want advice. I don't want to be cheered up. I just want to be listened to and truly heard."

Terri Cheney

Hathaway also seems to understand the importance of her role. "I have people in my life who I love so deeply who have received various mental health diagnoses, and that's not the whole story of who they are," she said. "But in many cases, because of an intolerant society, that's the space of fear they're kept in."

As there's more mental illness representation on TV, hopefully we'll see more nuanced portrayals of people with mental illness. Many Hollywood shows and movies have heavily exaggerated the symptoms of bipolar disorder, giving characters who suffer from the disorder violent narratives or dramatic breakdowns (Empire, Silver Linings Playbook), painting them as anti-medication (Law and Order: SVU) and using episodes as plot devices (Homeland), despite gaining praise for featuring characters who suffer from it.

Perhaps in the future, shows will also begin discussing the disorder in more precise terms and becoming as open and explicit about treatments, medication, therapy, and the messy vicissitudes of daily life as they are with dramatizing mental breakdowns and choreographing manic episodes.

Maybe they could also try to focus on people of different race and class backgrounds, as mental illness is frequently whitewashed, though it cannot be separated from things like race and class, and certainly not everyone with bipolar has a swanky entertainment law job or lives in an apartment like Anne Hathaway's utterly absurd one. Perhaps Modern Love itself shouldn't be expected to get real about mental illness, for even this episode does feel lost in the show's saccharine, wealth-buoyed rom-com vibe, caught up in the "permanent delusion that New York makes people fall into a special kind of love, unattainable anyplace else (unless on a brief trip abroad)," as The Washington Post writes, a delusion that anyone who actually lives in New York knows is utterly untrue (but that always makes for a hit TV show).

Still, when all is said and done, there will never be a singular or perfect depiction of bipolar disorder, and a depiction of mental illness on a show like this one will certainly expose lots of people to a sympathetic narrative they otherwise might not have encountered.

Like all illnesses, bipolar disorder is an ongoing process that affects everyone in a completely unique way, and there is no quick fix for it. But with medication and support, it's something that's possible to live and thrive with—and yes, to love with.

Though Lexi never finds true love, she finds something else. She finds self-acceptance, openness, a growth mindset, and the belief that she isn't in need of fixing. And in this life, perhaps that's the best kind of fairy-tale ending we can ask for.


Nazi-Chic: The Aesthetics of Fascism

Let's take a look at Nazi-inspired fashion.

Villains always have the best outfits.

From Darth Vader's polished black space armor to The Joker's snazzy purple suit, bad guys always seem to show up their protagonists in the fashion department.

Way more handsome than Batman.

But could there possibly be a real world equivalent to the type of over-the-top villain fashion often found in fiction? It would have to be sleek and imposing, austere and dangerous. Probably black.

Maybe it's him. Maybe it's fascist ideology.

Oh, right.

Let's call a spade a spade. From an aesthetic standpoint, the Nazi SS outfit is very well-designed. The long coat tied around the waist with a buckle portrays a slim, sturdy visage. The leather boots and matching cap look harsh and powerful. The emblem placements on the lapel naturally suggest rank and authority. And the red armband lends a splash of color to what would otherwise be a dark monotone. If the Nazi uniform wasn't so closely tied with the atrocities they committed during WWII, it wouldn't seem out of place at Fashion Week. Perhaps not too surprising, considering many of the uniforms were made by Hugo Boss.

Pictured: A real thing Hugo Boss did.

Of course, today, Nazi uniform aesthetics are inseparable from the human suffering doled out by their wearers. In most circles of civilized society, that's more than enough reason to avoid the garb in any and all fashion choices. But for some, that taboo isn't a hindrance at all–if anything, it's an added benefit.

As a result, we have Nazi chic, a fashion trend centered around the SS uniform and related Nazi imagery.

History of Nazi Chic

For the most part, Nazi chic is not characterized by Nazi sympathy. Rather, Nazi chic tends to be associated with counterculture movements that view the use of its taboo imagery as a form of shock value, and ironically, anti-authoritarianism.

The movement came to prominence in the British punk scene during the mid-1970s, with bands like the Sex Pistols and Siouxsie and the Banshees displaying swastikas on their attire alongside other provocative imagery.

Very rotten, Johnny.

Around this time, a film genre known as Nazisploitation also came to prominence amongst underground movie buffs. A subgenre of exploitation and sexploitation films, Naziploitation movies skewed towards D-grade fare, characterized by graphic sex scenes, violence, and gore. Plots typically surrounded female prisoners in concentration camps, subject to the sexual whims of evil SS officers, who eventually escaped and got their revenge. However, the most famous Nazisploitation film, Ilsa, She Wolf of the SS, flipped the genders.

The dorm room poster that will ensure you never get laid.

Ilsa was a female SS officer and the victims were men. She spent much of the movie wearing her Nazi uniform in various states, sexually abusing men all the while. As such, Ilsa played into dominatrix fantasies. The movie was a hit on the grindhouse circuit, inspiring multiple sequels and knock-offs and solidifying Nazi aesthetics as a part of the BDSM scene.

Since then, Nazi chic fashion has been employed by various artists, from Madonna to Marilyn Manson to Lady Gaga, and has shown up in all sorts of places from leather clubs to character designs in video games and anime.

Lady Gaga looking SS-uper.

Nazi Chic in Asia

Nazi chic has taken on a life of its own in Asia. And unlike Western Nazi chic, which recognizes Nazism as taboo, Asian Nazi chic seems entirely detached from any underlying ideology.

A large part of this likely has to do with the way that Holocaust education differs across cultures. In the West, we learn about the Holocaust in the context of the Nazis committing horrific crimes against humanity that affected many of our own families. The Holocaust is presented as personal and closer to our current era than we might like to think. It is something we should "never forget." Whereas in Asia, where effects of the Holocaust weren't as prominent, it's simply another aspect of WWII which, in and of itself, was just another large war. In other words, Nazi regalia in Asia might be viewed as simply another historical military outfit, albeit a particularly stylish one.

In Japan, which was much more involved with WWII than any other Asian country, Nazi chic is usually (but not always) reserved for villainous representations.


That being said, J-Pop groups like Keyakizaka46 have publicly worn Nazi chic too, and the phenomena isn't limited to Japan.

In South Korea, Indonesia, and Thailand, Nazi imagery has shown up in various elements of youth culture, completely void of any moral context. For instance, in Indonesia, a Hitler-themed fried chicken restaurant opened in 2013. And in Korea, K-Pop groups like BTS and Pritz have been called out for propagating Nazi chic fashion. Usually such incidents are followed by public apologies, but the lack of historical understanding makes everything ring hollow.


So the question then: is Nazi chic a bad thing?

The answer is not so black and white.

On one hand, seeing Nazi chic on the fashion scene may dredge up painful memories for Holocaust survivors and those whose family histories were tainted. In this light, wearing Nazi-inspired garb, regardless of intent, seems disrespectful and antagonistic. Worse than that, it doesn't even seem like a slight against authority so much as a dig at actual victims of genocide.

But on the other hand, considering the fact that even the youngest people who were alive during WWII are edging 80, "forgetting the Holocaust" is a distinct possibility for younger generations. In that regard, perhaps anything that draws attention to what happened, even if it's simply through the lens of "this outfit should be seen as offensive," might not be entirely bad. This, compounded by the fact that Nazi chic is not commonly associated with actual Nazi or nationalistic sentiments, might be enough to sway some people–not necessarily to wear, like, or even appreciate its aesthetics, but rather to understand its place within counterculture.

Ultimately, one's views on Nazi chic likely come down to their own personal taste and sensibilities. For some, Nazi chic is just a style, an aesthetic preference for something that happens to be mired in historical horror. For others, the shadow of atrocity simply hangs too strong.


Heather Mae's "Glimmer" Spins Pain into Exquisite Alt-Pop

This album is a work of empathy and raw honesty, a candid confessional and a rallying cry for everyone looking for a reason to go on.

In 2016, Heather Mae decided to dedicate her music career to helping others.

That decision informs every note and lyric on her latest LP, Glimmer. The album is a collection of songs dedicated to the theme, "Feel to Heal," and each song is crafted to cut through walls of shame, embracing the pain that comes with mental illness, addiction, and sometimes just being alive.

While many artists who try to create art that "helps others" often fall into the trap of creating work that feels prepackaged and insubstantial, Mae shatters this expectation with direct honesty, unfiltered emotion, and elegant, carefully crafted alt-pop melodies. By the end, it's clear that there's no surface-level empowerment to be found here. The message isn't, "Decide to start feeling great today!" Instead, sometimes the songs are about unconditional self-acceptance (Mae's self-released EP was called "You Are Enough"), but even more often, her message is simply: Survive. Survive in a world that makes it clear every single day that it wasn't made for you. Survive and fight to carve out a space for yourself in a world where maybe, sometimes, you can thrive.

I Am Enough - Heather Mae (Official Music Video)

Mae has done her fair share of surviving, and she uses her own experiences to inform her work, turning the loose ends and broken pieces of her own story into a vehicle for connecting to others. She delves into the messy actuality of what life is like while living with chronic mental illness, taking care to address different facets of the issue. "The album is dedicated entirely to mental health and I strategically wrote from every angle possible," she told Popdust, adding that the record is "dedicated to [shattering] the stigma surrounding mental illness by owning my crazy."

Glimmer is full of stories about her experiences as a queer, plus-sized, bipolar woman, and on it, Mae traverses topics often left undiscussed in typical mental health discourse—such as medication, addiction, and the ongoing, unpredictable nature of mental illness. She talks about the effects of the antipsychotic medication she took to help with her Bipolar Disorder on "Feelin Crazy," which was inspired by its "sometimes maddening, sometimes comatose side effects."

The song "In My Head" tackles addiction. "I wouldn't be a mental health advocate if I didn't shine light on addiction," Mae said. For a track about the all-consuming effects of substance abuse, it's surprisingly upbeat and sensual. "The song began as a gloomy piano ballad, but eventually became the dark sexy electric ballad it was begging to become," she explained, adding that the track is her favorite on the album. "As a lover of late 60s rock music, I asked [my producer] to channel the iconic guitar solos of that age," she said, "and it's the closest I'll ever get to living my Almost Famous dreams."

She also discussed the song's forthcoming music video. "As a kid, I would sit for hours watching music videos on MTV and VH1. Brainstorming about this song, I thought about the music videos I danced to in my room and there was one image that stuck out in my mind: a thin woman, clad in lingerie, dancing on a car," she said. "It was images like this, alongside the lack of positive representation of fat bodies, that brainwashed me to believe that fat bodies like mine are not sexy, desirable, or wanted...which is bullsh*t. I wanted to take back that narrative and smash it to the ground."

Filming the video required her to dance for the first time in a decade, but she decided to go ahead with it after imagining what that would've meant to her younger self. "I thought about what it would have been like for me—a fat, bullied 12-year-old watching a proud, independent, demanding, fierce, sexy, fat, queer woman, dancing and singing her song about being lusted and longed for by more than one person—and I felt a kind of primal feminine power as I danced under the full moon that night," she said. "This music video is 100% dedicated to any woman who has ever been told she isn't sexy. We set our own standards of what it means to be beautiful and good enough and sexy and my standard is me."

That balance—between shame and power, fear and hope—is a constant dichotomy on the album, but often these two aspects coexist in harmony. Songs like the subdued, sultry "Glimmer" offer particularly powerful glimpses into what it feels like to have your mind lash out at you day in and day out; but in a song that's about struggling to get through each day, there are glimpses of light and hope.

Hope and healing are pervasive theme throughout the album; whenever things seem to be getting too dark, a glimpse of hope and strength appears. The breathtaking "Smoke Signals" and "I'm Still Here" are twin anthems about the messages and affirmations that help us go on, even when it seems impossible—the little lights in the darkness, the glimmer in the midst of all the smoke. As Mae belts out her harmonies over triumphant guitar at the end of "I'm Still Here," it feels like an exhale and a rising, a releasing of old pain and a reaffirmed dedication to fighting through whatever comes next.

There's also a lot of healing and love to be found in these songs, both for Mae's listeners and for her partner. "You Are My Favorite" is a gorgeous, heartfelt ballad, and it's one of the album's sweetest moments. "One night, as I was drifting off to sleep in the arms of my wife, I said to her 'You are my favorite,'" she said. "Suddenly, in my mind, I could hear myself singing a melody I had never sung before, singing the phrase 'you are my favorite word,' which turned out to be the first line of the song. 'Go to your piano,' I heard myself say."

An hour later, the song was done. "The recorded version is the exact version that was written that night. Not one single edit," she said. "I pulled my wife out of bed and carried her to the piano, played the song for her, and said 'millions of LGBTQ couples will walk down the aisle to this song that I wrote about you.'" Though it's a love song, it's also a protest song. "Until the day every nation passes anti-discrimination laws for LGBTQ+ people—big and loud LGBTQ+ love will always be an act of protest," Mae said. "One day, I hope, my songs about my wife will be seen as boring love songs, just like every other love song out there, but until that day, I will sing of our love proudly and loudly."

Though particularly powerful because of its subject matter, Glimmer also shines sonically. Many of the songs are influenced by modern alternative and pop as well as vintage '60s and '80s sounds, and they range from soulful, choir-driven ballads to upbeat, electric R&B. Mae's voice is also a standout feature. Sometimes a guttural scream or growl, sometimes smooth and effortless, her voice seems capable of any feat or style, and it's not hard to see why she's been compared to Sara Bareilles and the like.

At its heart, the album is a work of compassion, standing in solidarity with everyone who can relate to it—which is probably a lot more of us than you might think. "I had a goal when I was writing these songs—for (fans) and for me," said Mae. "The messages I get are not, 'Yeah, I partied to your songs this weekend and I went on a road trip and blasted your songs.' What I get is, 'I didn't commit suicide 'cause I listened to your song' or 'I came out because of you' or 'I left my abusive partner because of your song.' Those are the messages I get. So f*** this music business. As long as I'm doing the work of keeping people alive, I'm successful."