Why Miles Teller is anything but The Boy Next Door
In today’s imaginary interview, Vanity Fair focuses on one of Hollywood’s most unlikely superstars, Miles Teller.
“Gosh, I’m so sorry I’m late!” are the first words I hear. Miles Teller rushes in a flurry to the poolside of Soho House West Hollywood, leather duffle bag in hand, with the understated nonchalance that comes with a five digit price tag, and a French bulldog in the other.
“Thank you”, he says breathlessly to the attractive waiter who is at his side, who takes the beast whilst simultaneously proffering a tray of various waters. Teller plucks a Voss and settles down into the basket weave easy chair. Ruffling his hair, and sitting back, he cracks open his lid, and smiles in a charming but slightly flustered fashion at me.
Teller has the success story of many other actors of his bent. A graduate of Tisch, he skated in supporting roles in commercial yet uninspiring movies until a role in the critically acclaimed The Spectacular Now catapulted into Hollywood’s crosshairs. Termed an “unconventional beauty”, Teller’s time on camera doesn’t do him justice, with his aquiline nose, warm chocolatey eyes and laugh that tinkles like a thousand angels which also has the effect of making me feel like I’m wrapped in a cloud. The look screams California Casual but with just slightly too much effort to be nonchalant. The perfect amount of ankle on show, the well worn jeans that fit just right. I see the East Coast suburban boy hiding under there. If I squint, I can almost see the outline of a torn alligator on his shirt.
Our almond eyed waiter comes over, and Teller orders some light snacks for the table, nori dusted chia seeds, a freekeh mousse and shots of chard juice for both of us. I’m charmed yet slightly peeved. I wanted sweet potato fries. Still when in Hollywood. I surreptitiously arrange my sweater so it covers my stomach.
Teller has had a stellar year; recently engaged to his model girlfriend, Keleigh Sperry on safari “in the style of the Princes. It’s a totally classy move” he exclaims while crunching his mousse. I quietly hand him a napkin to remove the crust forming in the corners of his mouth. With rumours that Teller is tipped to become the next Jason Bourne, how has this millennial handled this rise from teen movies to action star roles.
“It’s pretty wild,” he admits. “Think of it, there must have been a few hundred in my graduating class, and I’m the successful one? Who would have thought it?”
Who would have thought it? Gone are the days of the visually arresting pretty boy male stars, with their perfect bone structure, hypnotising eyes and shampoo ad hair to the more comforting everyday guy being touted as the boy everyone has a crush on. The recent term ‘Ugly beaut’ has been coined to define the likes of Adam Driver and the new Mr Kirsten Dunst, Jesse Plemons.
“People like to see, someone who looks like someone they grew up with. Movies are about escapism, but now, with someone like me or Ansel [Elgort] at the helm, you think ‘Hey, it’s ok to be me’ you know?”
I admit, it does sound nice. The waiter comes by with a tray of more water, Teller grabs another Voss. Maybe it’s the easy going energy, and the approachability, but there is a warmth about Teller that is hard to not to be affected by. I admit, he has an endearing quality that I can see works on the big screen.
“My film career is just, amazing, you know? Will I be doing this forever — I mean I don’t know. I’d love to create and be that guy putting great things out there and spreading that joy.”
Ah, he wants to produce. He shakes his head vehemently no.
“Look this industry isn’t stable, and I want to be able to be a titan, I want to be a Mark Cuban. It’s like Jay Z said, I’m a business man, not a businessman.”
He beckons the waiter over. I notice like others who’ve received the Hollywood treatment, his hairline is just a little too neat, the laugh lines a little too sculpted.
Not to mention, his skin looks incredible.
I mention this, and his eyes crinkle and he gets a little shy. Our waiter comes by and he asks for his bag.
“I want to show you something.” The bag returns, and he slips a $100 to the waiter. He digs into the side pocket and pulls out a little glass jar. It’s dark blue glass cut so it resembles crystal. He unscrews the lid and out spills some very unassuming capsules. With a bird printed on them.
My mind jumps from, damn these Hollywood folk are bold, and I guess when you’re famous, you can deal drugs in broad daylight. He holds one up to the light. It’s pretty, a clear capsule with tiny silvery beads inside.
“This, this is the moneymaker.”
It might be cool for Miles Teller to fling pills around, but I’m nothing but a lowly journalist. Hell, I remember the 80s. He catches the look on my face, and hurries to assure me. “Oh, no no no no, these are vitamins! 100% above board.”
Ploughing ahead, ignoring my confusion, he sits back in preparation for his elevator speech, with his arms spread wide. I have a feeling that he’s been religiously practicing in the mirror.
“What’s one of the biggest industries in the world? Big Pharma. And beauty. People will always want to look more younger, and gorgeous. You can slather your skin in all sorts of nasty chemicals, but true beauty which comes from health radiates from within.”
I point out that the term chemicals has received a bad rap for years, when in fact, everything has a chemical composition. He huffs, not happy I’ve interrupted him. I acquiesce, and let him continue.
“You said it yourself, and I could see the look in your eyes, I’m not the handsomest guy in the room.” I instantly feel guilty. “I mean, come on, this is Hollywood!”
Wasn’t Juice Plus touted by OJ Simpson? And found out to be less effective than eating an apple a day? He waves it off, “This came off the back of that. It was a revolutionary product, but they went with the wrong guy. Whatya gonna do?”
His eyes glow, and I feel slightly uncomfortable but enthralled. “I’ve been taking the Seawater and Amino Gold blend since six months ago, look at my hair.” He grabs a handful of his hair, and it looks thick, and lustrous but a good hair serum can do that.
He senses my skepticism and spreads his hands out. “I get it, I was the same too.” He sits back in his chair. “Freddie [Ed note: Miles’ personal trainer, working together since Bleed For This] , introduced me to them. I was rundown, working a lot, and I thought ‘Hey I’m young right, I need some sleep, go the gym, drink more water, but nothing changed. He introduced me to Lumar and I was reluctant, but look at me now!”
Unperturbed by my silence, he digs into the bag and pulls out, a swathe of shiny sachets and bottles. He grabs a serving tray from a nearby waiter.
“He recommended me that I started taking their custom GGolden blend, for a week to see how I felt. I mean, GGolden blend, what is that? I can buy a turmeric latte from any coffee shop. But I did, and within a week, no within two days, I could see it. The glow! It was faint, but perceptible. I was sleeping better, I had more energy, less brain fog. So I got an assessment to get my own custom blend.”
Unscrewing lids, and tearing open sachets, he sets out these tiny jewels with the practiced air of someone who has definitely done this before.
“So it’s customisable based on your needs, and you get a alchemist — this is the Butter Blast set,” he circles his hand around a blue section, “really popular to pair with the Amino+ collection.” He shakes his jar. “This is my own custom concoction made after vigorous testing and research, and I got a little Eagle printed on it, because, Go Eagles.”
The vigorous testing, turns out to be a questionnaire taken by a model in a lab coat. My sense of unease increases. I’m definitely getting some Full Circle vibes.
“Look try one”, he hands me a soft pink one, shaped like a gem. “Go on. It’s just something to help that rash on the inside of your elbow. Caused by deadlines huh?”
I pocket it, claiming I have gum in my mouth.
“Aswaghanda, it’s this amazing Ayurverdic herb that is sourced from this tiny ashram in India, and they have this guy who makes up this special blend that’s been in his family of healers from thousands of years ago! It’s amazing, it changed my life. I’m just so empowered now”
“Look,” He puts together a bunch of pills into one of his jars. “I shouldn’t be doing this. But I want you to try this because I know you will love it. And it will help you.” He presses it into my palm. “A blend like this is worth thousands. But I know it will work.”
His eyes are bright, face is flushed. I’ll bite. What’s the catch?
“This is the secret that Hollywood has been keeping from you. And this is something everybody can have. I can set you up with an alchemist, there’s a little waiting list now, but I can swing it. And if you like it, you’ll tell your friends.”
I’m just reminded of my Facebook feed filled with people trying to sell leggings and nail polish.
Through some careful prodding, I find out that Teller is now a shareholder, and has invested a substantive amount in the business.
“Acting won’t carry me forever.” He shrugs. “This is my future. And it can be yours too. I bet journalists don’t make as much as you hoped huh? Wouldn’t it be nice to get some supplemental income?”
An hour later, I leave confused, a thousand dollars lighter, with a pack of vitamins, an Intro Pack, and several of those tiny glass jars.
[At time of publication: Freddie Roach is currently under investigation by the LA District Attorney’s office, as part of a larger operation with the FDA to tackle illegal ingredients and false medical claims relating to the Super Saw Palmetto which allegedly contained alligator faeces. Teller’s representatives did not respond for comments]
World’s Worst Sitcom is a blog, comprised of individual satirical posts, some taken from or inspired by real news events but the stories are almost entirely works of complete fiction. This feature is a source of parody, satire, and humour and is for entertainment purposes only. Said posts or stories may or may not use real names, always in semi-real and/or mostly, or substantially, fictitious ways.
