“It knocks down the fear factor,” he said. “Strangely, rage will emerge from nowhere.”
I’m happy to say that I didn’t feel any additional rage when I became the Grinch. The only thing I felt (as I was instructed to growl into the camera) was silly — and green. After I slipped out of the costume (which was reaching crockpot temperatures), I spent the next 30 minutes scrubbing, rinsing, and exfoliating. As much as I tried, I still looked like I was the victim of both jaundice and food poisoning.
McCarthy told me that when he gets out of the shower, the curtain “looks like I murdered a field of avocados.” It was an ideal cap to my experience of becoming the Grinch. I was left pale green, and now grumpy from scrubbing my face raw.
I returned home, just as the song says, with “all the tender sweetness of a seasick crocodile.” I’m not ready to steal Cindy Lou Who’s tree, but in true Grinch fashion, I think I’ll hold off from breaking out my Partridge Family Christmas album for the time being.