That's the thing. I suspect he is--in the best way. He isn't going to ask for bail at 3 am on a Saturday, sell your shoes for meth, screw your sister in your bed, or snort coke off the dog and rant about starting a podcast. And that is a good thing. He carries around his infant daughter in a baby bjorn while chopping broccoli, he gets hyper during sporting events, he likes going for hikes/walks outside, he eats his vegetables. Getting calls for bail gets very tiresome. Having someone ask, listen to, and actually care how you are doing is pretty wonderful.
Sure, he may have had a "wild" youth--some coke, some booze, etc. that was part of being that age and an expected part of his profession (my spouse is a writer--there is peer pressure, see Leslie Jamison). But he seems to have grown out of that like so many people do. For a guy whose profession is drama, he seems pretty low-key.
I can see why he was into Alice at the time. She was a stylish celeb in Paris. She was able to convince people that she was fun, engaging, smart. But I can also understand why their relationship didn't run its course early--and why he got stuck. At least he got two daughters out of it. I know both girls need help to understand what has happened in their family. But as one of two daughters of a couple who took 10 years to divorce, they will come around and build a relationship with their dad. It will take time but I is doing the best job he can in setting them and himself up for a good future.
I still (always?) find it interesting that Alice sets herself up as some kind of taste-maven. Like Ioan was the rude rube that she had to educate and elevate. He may have been a naif but he went to RADA, lived in London, etc. So the small-town Welsh boy had serious contact with The Arts and was a member of the tribe regardless of how he dressed.
Her only art-adjacent cred was Ouicassi. Otherwise, she was a bourgeois materialist. Still is. Never was part of the truly avant-garde art or fashion scene. Or any art scene. Her pics with Ouicassi show a woman who dressed out of the French J. Crew catalog, whatever that equivalent is. She is pathetically ordinary and tries to set herself apart with her awful costumes. One is supposed to express personality through dress, not create one's personality through dress.
Okay. I'm done. I still like pretzels despite the shenanigans perpetrated in the pretzels' name on this board and would entertain sending them to all and sundry. If...that is...if I get good ube mochi in return.
. MARRY ME FUCKO!
