BY Advocate Contributors
November 14 2009 10:00 AM ET
Christian's lawyers, meanwhile, have presented him as a bright, serious kid—maybe a little naive and star-struck—who gave his heart gladly and freely to a big movie star, only to have his youthful trust shattered by the jaded and cynical Hudson. To hear them tell it, Christian is, in the local jargon, the totally excellent dude, the one-in-a-million-guy-trusting, loving, unassuming, modest.
Christian won an early round. The press watched as he spotted Little Richard outside superior court and asked the manic singer for his autograph. Getting it, Christian gleefully turned to the assembled reporters and said, "Always the fan." The reporters had a human-interest angle, and Christian helped nail down his credentials as a naif.
But you're a skeptic. You can't base your impressions on one solitary media event. You need to see for yourself. Is Christian a hunk? Is he soon to be a rich hunk? Is he, you ask, the man for you? You have an inquiring mind. You want to know.
When you enter the courtroom, you realize that the golden age of Hollywood is indeed dead. The courtroom is shabby, not even up to L.A.Law standards. The jurors look neither hip nor interested, and the few courtroom observers appear to be mostly federal clerical workers taking a break with their favorite supermarket tabloids ("NEW TRAGEDY FOR ANN JILLIAN," "DOCTORS WARN: OPRAH IS FLIRTING WITH DEATH").
There are, of course, lots of expensive Beverly Hills lawyers at the trial, but don't hold your breath waiting for taut courtroom drama. At one point, an attorney for Mark Miller, who had been Hudson's secretary, takes a document from Christian's lawyer to show it to Christian, leading Christian's lawyer to shriek, "Counsel, you grab something from me gently or don't grab at all. Don't grab anything from me again." The judge will later admonish Miller and his lawyer for snickering during Christian's testimony.
This lack of drama is constructive, though, because it gives you time to daydream about Christian, who is testifying on this particular day. He is 35 but, luckily for him, photographs younger. He is dressed in a dark-blue suit and apparently would have us believe that he is just an up-and-coming yuppie, perhaps on a short stroll outside of his office at the Bank of America.
He seems sincere, soft-spoken, smart, and shy. He is not the boy bimbo you expected, and you wonder why someone who is so bright was having high-risk sex as recently as 1985. He is shorter, thinner, and slighter than you expected. Although he is pale by Southern California standards, he sounds like a beach boy, talking in the soft,
drawn-out vowels of a native Californian.
But now to the nuts and bolts of this expedition: What would life with Christian be like? Here are a few important considerations.
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