Page 94 - Esquire (November 2019)
P. 94

a
 “T aikaa                                                                                                          a.














                                               aikaa


                                 T                                                                      she          aa,”












                                                                                                              whispers.




                                                                                                          In a Mediterranean-style house, built into the
                                                                                                          side of a hill in the Los Feliz neighborhood
                                                                                                          of Los Angeles, not too far away from Walt
                                                                                                          Disney’s first home, Taika Waititi’s assistant
                                                                                                          is trying to coax him out of his bedroom. She
                                                                                                          thinks he’s asleep. And the complex Swiss
                                                                                                          coffee machine seems to be on the fritz. So
                                                                                                          while I wait, I try to fix it.
                                                                                                            I’m about to implement the unplug-it-and-
                                                                                                          plug-it-back-in method when I feel something
                                                                                                          ping my back. I see a small object go skittering
                                                                                                          across the floor. A bottle cap? I turn and there is
                                                                                                          Waititi, wearing a tropical-print shirt and styl-
                                                                                                          ish drawstring pants and, while in a ninja-like
                                                                                                          pose, holding a large, capless bottle of Perrier.
                                                                                                          He has the boyish energy of a walking GIF.
                                                                                                            “I’ve been standing here for five minutes
                                                                                                          watching you, bro,” the forty-four-year-old di-
                                                                                                          rector/actor/producer says. Then he gives me
                                                                                                          a hug. When in playful mode, he speaks with
                                                                                                          the country-Kiwi accent of Korg, the charming
                                                                                                          rock beast he played in Thor: Ragnarok (which
                                                                                                          he also directed), whom he based on the sweet,
                                                                                                          enormous Polynesian bouncers he would en-
                                                                                                          counter outside clubs in his hometown of Wel-
                                                                                                          lington, New Zealand. The rest of the time, he
                                                                                                          speaks with a charming, soothing New Zealand
                                                                                                          accent featuring just a touch of thespian gravi-
                                                                                                          tas—a perfect delivery system for dry humor.
                                                                                                            He moves a pink blazer from the back of a
                                                                                                          kitchen chair so I can sit and begins eating his
                                                                                                          very Californian breakfast—eggs and avocado
                                                                                                          toast with a side of bacon.
                                                                                                            Trying to make conversation, I ask him
                                                                                                          about a sculpture in the kitchen. He gives me
                                                                                                          the shrug emoji. “I don’t know what any of this
                                                                                                          stuff is, bro! It’s not my house!”
                                                                                                            He’s been so busy that he’s crashing here
                                                                                                          to avoid interrupting his family’s schedule.
                                                                                                          Before Thor, he split his time between New
                                                                                                          Zealand and Los Angeles, but now he and his
                                                                                                          wife, Chelsea Winstanley, and their two young
          Jacket ($5,195),                                                                                daughters have settled into a home nearby in
         T-shirt ($375), and
         trousers ($1,195) by                                                                             L.A. They’ve had to: Waititi is directing the se-
                                                                                                          quel to Ragnarok; directing an episode of The
          Giorgio Armani.
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