Photo Credit: Courtesy of Esquire
Brad Pitt looks amazing, but he can't always see so well. In the new issue of Esquire, the actor cops to an unusual problem: he has "face blindness," or prosopagnosia, meaning he doesn't recognize faces that he's seen before. If you're guessing this creates problems in schmooze-happy Hollywood, then you're correct.
"So many people hate me because they think I'm disrespecting them," Pitt tells the magazine. "So I swear to God, I took one year where I just said, 'This year, I'm just going to cop to it and say to people, "Okay, where did we meet?"' But it just got worse. People were more offended. Every now and then, someone will give me context, and I'll say, 'Thank you for helping me.' But I piss more people off. You get this thing, like, 'You're being egotistical. You're being conceited.' But it's a mystery to me, man. I can't grasp a face and yet I come from such a design/aesthetic point of view. I am going to get it tested."
It's not quite as bold a confession as his partner Angelina Jolie made last week, when she shared her double mastectomy story. Even so, it's a pretty big deal when someone like Pitt reveals that they have a brain disorder. Celebrities so often go to extreme lengths -- plastic surgery, rigorous diets, increasingly younger co-stars -- to deny that they're aging. So we love that Hollywood's most glamorous celebrity couple is making an exception, opening up about their health problems and the realities of growing older. Doesn't make them any less gorgeous or enviable; just makes us feel like we actually have something in common with them.
But Pitt didn't stop there. Among his other super-candid confessions to Esquire: He doesn't have many friends.
"I have very few friends. I have a handful of close friends and I have my family and I haven't known life to be any happier," he admitted.
The World War Z actor also opened up a bit about his family, and how he thrives on the chaos of having six children.
"I always thought that if I wanted to do a family, I wanted to do it big," he says. "There's constant chatter in our house, whether it's giggling or screaming or crying or banging. I love it. I love it. I love it. I hate it when they're gone. I hate it. Maybe it's nice to be in a hotel room for a day -- 'Oh, nice, I can finally read a paper.' But then, by the next day, I miss that cacophony, all that life."