for a role in the movie Queen of the South. Mendes did go to rehab at the tony Utah institute, The Cirque Lodge, in January. That fact is not being debated. At the time, Mendes’ publicist stated that Mendes had gone to The Cirque Lodge to “proactively [work on] some personal issues.” I thought this was comical at the time, because Mendes’ publicist’s words seemed to suggest that Mendes didn’t have a problem at the present, but thought that in a couple of months she might have one and, since her schedule was quite busy, figured she’d stave them off early. It’d be as if I stated that I would go to rehab now for an oxycontin addiction I believed I’d develop in September.
Whatever. As I said previously, you laugh these things off.
Now, five months later, Star Magazine and the World Entertainment News Network (WENN) are reporting that Mendes’ stay at The Cirque Lodge might have been in order to research a part. We’ll ignore the use of the word ‘might’ for now and move forward. WENN’s story goes on to quote an acting coach, John Kirby, who states that he’d encourage his students to all check into rehab in order to better understand their characters.
Except there’s one problem that no one ever mentions when dealing with celebrities and rehab: YOU HAVE TO HAVE A SUBSTANCE ABUSE PROBLEM TO GET IN!
(I debated about making that last sentence much larger and flashing neon green, but figured caps should do the trick).
I started out by talking to a person in the admissions department of the University of Utah’s chemical dependency program. She laughed when I asked if a person could check into rehab without an actual problem. Apparently, state recognized in-patient rehabilitation facilities have standards that their clientele has to meet before they can be admitted. For the same reason that healthy people can’t check into well respected cancer programs, healthy people can’t check into well respected drug rehabilitation programs either.
Then, apparently separating myself from every other journalist on the planet, I placed a call to The Cirque Lodge, asked to speak to someone in admissions and asked whether someone without a drug/alcohol problem would be admitted. The man to whom I spoke was skeptical of my line of questioning; interested in helping people recover, he was not aware of the Mendes flap and couldn’t quite wrap his head around the concept of someone taking advantage of the institution for their own personal gain. “Why would you want to do that?” he asked me, his words trailing off at the end of his question, flummoxed.
It was disheartening to hear his tone of voice. The Cirque Lodge, for all the jokes out there about it being a day spa and a 28 day vacation spot, is a rehabilitation facility that prides itself on helping people help themselves; as the man in admissions told me, The Cirque Lodge is a genuine treatment center and one that is licensed by the state. They stop short of detoxing patients who are addicted to heroin or other opiates, but the Cirque Lodge will actually drive you to and from a detox center or pick you up at the airport so that you don’t have to worry focus on anything other than your own sobriety.
But back to Eva Mendes and the ever-so-important issues here at hand. When I pressed the admissions man on whether someone without a drug or alcohol dependency problem could/would be admitted to the Cirque Lodge, he maintained the answer was no. “You have to have a problem,” he said definitively and asked if I’d seen the Cirque’s online medical questionnaire. I hadn’t.
Prior to admittance at the Cirque Lodge, all prospective patients must fill out the questionnaire to determine whether they meet the criteria for treatment. The questionnaire is extremely detailed, focuses heavily on drug/alcohol dependency and can be seen here. The probability of Mendes’ research story being true went from shaky to downright ugly. A minute later it became patently false. Discussing the Cirque Lodge’s admittance process, the man told me in no uncertain terms, “Everyone who has come here has had a substance abuse problem.”
Case closed.
As for why the American reading public wants to believe that Mendes does not have a drug/alcohol problem when she, in fact, does is a topic left to a later date.
THE QUESTION: Can police and federal agents really commandeer vehicles the way they do in the movies? On one hand, it seems reasonable if you're chasing after a criminal and crash your car. On the other hand, with as litigious of a society as we live in, I can't believe someone hasn't sued the pants off a police department for this yet. Vincent R. via e-mail
THE ANSWER: We've all seen it on screen dozens of times. A cop, in hot pursuit of his main suspect, steps into oncoming traffic, stops a car, flashes his badge and informs the driver of said car that he needs to commander the vehicle. Harrison Ford did it with a bike in Hollywood Homicide; Leslie Nielsen memorably did it with a student driver in The Naked Gun. But what is the legal status of that maneuver?
Prior to doing any kind of research on this matter, I would have thought that the answer was resoundingly in the negative; this would merely be another in a long line of Hollywood police practices that don't come close to existing in the real world. However, the exact opposite turned out to be true... yet another reason why actually doing the leg work is still necessary.
After placing a few phone calls, I finally spoke with Pat Camden, the closest thing that the Chicago Police Department has to a press officer. He laughed at the question and said, "It's hypothetically possible, but probably more Hollywood than reality." At first I thought this was a 'no'. Then Camden qualified his comment and I realized that it was, in fact, a 'yes'.
The biggest issue about a member of the police force or FBI commandeering a vehicle is the liability of the situation, since the municipality (or government) would have to pay for any damage to the commandeered vehicle and, possibly, caused by it as well. "If you're trying to catch a person who has just killed fifteen people and is escaping, the liability in case of damage might be more justifiable," Camden said in way of closing.
Next, I spoke to the Felony Review Attorney in the State Attorney's Office, Fabio Valentini. Valentini agreed with Camden's assessment of the matter. He also noted that during his thirteen year tenure at the State Attorney's Office had never seen or heard of anyone commandeering a vehicle. Valentini did raise another good point though: "Even if the citizen/vehicle owner voluntarily and/or readily loans their car for police use," he began, "there is still the chance that they might sue [the police] for damages caused."
I then called an old friend and attorney who specializes in automobile related issues, Michael Demo. Demo pondered Valentini's last statement and said, "Standard negligence would still apply to the situation... Although it makes sense that the criminal should be liable for damages caused during his apprehension." Demo went on to say that he didn't believe that there was any kind of legal precedent for this scenario.
So, technically, the police can commandeer vehicles whenever they damn well choose. It is a legal course of action for them. However, they rarely if ever pursue this option because of the months and possibly years of legal headaches, paperwork and insurance issues that they'd have to deal with once the chase has concluded. Ask Chris Neumer a question
