Why we’re all on Team Gwyneth now

As Gwyneth Paltrow swept out of the Utah courtroom after winning her case on Thursday, she emanated an almost saintly glow of forgiveness in the direction of Terry Sanderson. Vindicated, she rose from her chair, slowly walked over to the opposition, touched Sanderson’s shoulder and said: “I wish you well.” Meanwhile, Los Angeles publicists everywhere were wondering how on earth they could get their clients put on trial for ski crimes.

The whole furore has worked wonders for Paltrow’s reputation. What started as a spat in the valley of the super-rich has ended with us back under the spell of the actress – and is enough to make us forget she ever trolled us with her talk of conscious uncoupling, awkwardly positioned jade eggs and candles that smell like her you-know-what. Because while her lifestyle brand Goop is undoubtedly successful – and was the first wave in what turned out to be a wellness tsunami – it also made a lot of people turn against the Oscar-winner.

The shift back – like all things in Hollywood – happened at lightning speed. Ten days ago, pitchforks were gathering on Twitter when Paltrow revealed on a podcast that she drank a cup of bone broth for lunch most days. I mean, really, what else did they expect?  But she was accused of encouraging eating disorders and spouting out-of-touch white-woman nonsense.

One ski mishap with a retired optometrist later, and the world is at her feet like it’s 1999 all over again. Podcasters are gushing that she’s taking us back to “a different era of celebrity” while newspapers and magazines are filled with tips on how to emulate her “I don’t compromise my integrity but I do shop at The Row where jumpers cost upwards of £1,000” courtroom style.

So how did she do it? Let’s start with the facts. Dr Terry Sanderson accused Paltrow of the skiing version of a hit and run seven years ago (the damage was so extensive that the poor man could no longer even enjoy his wine tastings). Paltrow rebuffed these claims and argued that he, in fact, crashed into her – and that the resulting shock denied her an afternoon on the slopes. So far, so low stakes.

But Paltrow made a classy first move in her determination to get justice done. Like the plucky heroine of a 1990s movie she could have starred in, she refused to take the easy way out and pay off the eye-guy. This is unusual to say the least – particularly in the United States, where 95 per cent of civil cases settle out of court. You sense that her army of lawyers, PR specialists and marketing managers would have begged her to just lob him a cheque – but she refused. Impressive, really, when she knew the media circus that would ensue.

And it’s not as if the six figures Sanderson was asking for even means much in Paltrow-world (she is estimated to be worth $200 million). But this was not about the money.

Paltrow was taking on and defending this case for the concept of truth itself, as highlighted by the fact she counter sued for a mere dollar (and, let’s not forget, her extensive legal fees). The court is yet to rule on the lawyers’ bills but Paltrow was clear on the fact that she didn’t want a dime out of Sanderson – thereby emulating Taylor Swift (a friend of Paltrow’s), who in 2017 won her trial over a years-old groping incident, claiming $1 and sending a message about the consequences of harassment.

But while public opinion was always going to be with Swift on a case like that, Paltrow’s trial could have gone either way. In fact, before it began, the optics weren’t exactly in Paltrow’s favour – a retired older man gets mowed down by a movie star in too much of a rush for lunch to even ask if he was OK? I can picture the disgusted headlines about the entitlement of celebrity now.

Over eight days, Paltrow managed to win the world over. It wasn’t a flawless ascent; there were a few missteps – including her tone deaf comment about how the crash meant she “lost half a day skiing” – but by the end of the trial we were rooting for her. The jury were unanimous in ruling in her favour after just two hours of deliberation. Why?  Some of it was down to her impeccable behaviour. Paltrow arrived in court on time every day, and was respectful – even in the face of some truly madcap questioning from the opposition team’s lawyer Kristin VanOrman.

Take this one interaction, when they were discussing Paltrow’s height. “I’m just under 5’10,” Paltrow told VanOrman. “I am so jealous,” VanOrman replied, “I have to wear four-inch heels just to make it to 5’5.” Paltrow – ever the actress – kept a straight face, even when VanOrman later returned to Paltrow, called her “small but mighty”, and then backtracking by saying, “Actually, you’re not that small.” You can see Paltrow working out in real time how to deal with this unexpected fan-girl – and her response was pitch perfect: friendly, just warm enough, but always the Hollywood movie star talking to the Park City lawyer.

Throughout, Paltrow was unfailingly polite. When explaining how she told Sanderson he skied into her “f---ing back”, she said, “I apologise for my bad language … [That] is not my custom.” She also famously offered treats to the court staff – which, for those of us hungry for juicy details, were sadly rebuffed.

Most importantly, she stuck to the truth – even when it didn’t reflect particularly well on her. When she was asked how much she spent on ski lessons for her children during the week, she admitted it was £7,000 (“It’s pretty expensive,” she explained of Deer Valley). She also didn’t hide the fact that after the collision, she failed to hang around to see if Sanderson was alright; instead she skied off to have lunch followed by a massage.

Relatable, Paltrow was not – but that wasn’t the point. She came across as a reliable witness and the more she spoke, the easier it became to believe her when it came to the details of the actual crash (she has always maintained that he skied into her legs). As she spoke, you could sense Paltrow was motivated by a sense of indignation that she believed she had been accused of something she did not do – and was determined to prove a point.

That, combined with the movie-star-ness of it all made it hard to tear your eyes off her (her legal team repeatedly complained about the number of cameras trained on her throughout the trial). But who could resist it? In the social media age, it can feel as if celebrities have fallen off their untouchable thrones – we see them applying skincare in their bathroom mirrors or at the gym. But watching Paltrow in that Park City courtroom reminded us all of her high-wattage star power – as if one of the gods had descended from Mount Olympus to play with the mortals.

Her fashion choices only underscored this impression – and somehow acted as a tool in her favour even when she was sitting quietly beside her lawyers. Sartorially, it was a difficult line to tread: dress up too much and she could be accused of looking out of touch, dress down and people would say she wasn’t taking it seriously.

And yet, every note she hit was pitch perfect; somehow, she managed to look conservative, relaxed and expensive all at once in her plush ivory roll-necks, biscuit-coloured trousers, navy collared cardigans and grey three-piece suits (none of which were obviously branded). She looked aspirational – but, more importantly, she also looked like herself.

The cherry on top of it all, however, came in the final five minutes. The jury returned after a mere two hours and 20 minutes, unanimously finding Sanderson at fault for the crash. Paltrow – vindicated – rose from her chair, expressionless but radiating good will. While everyone else stayed seated, she slowly walked over to the opposition, touched Sanderson’s shoulder and said: “I wish you well.”

It was a dazzling exit, only aided by the following note, which she uploaded to Instagram. “I felt that acquiescing to a false claim compromised my integrity. I am pleased with the outcome and appreciate all of the hard work of Judge Holmberg and the jury, and thank them for their thoughtfulness in handling this case.” Chef’s kiss. The finest courtroom drama writer couldn’t have done it better.