The Age of Halle

It’s an impossibly picturesque afternoon in Southern California—the type that sun-soaked pop odes to languorous summers are made of—Halle Berry is tucked away in a pedigreed Los Angeles estate playing dress up for this magazine. She’s been on set since the morning, modeling look after look and jewels so pricey that two guards are here standing watch over the Bulgari and Cartier. When Berry descends in yet another drop-dead ensemble, sauntering down a winding staircase in a sheer lace Gucci sheath and feather-adorned stilettos, there are audible gasps. At 58—yes, you read that correctly, 58!—she’s still every bit the showstopper. And yet, Berry cares very little about turning heads anymore, which she makes abundantly clear during our time together.

“I’ve always known that I’ve been more than this face and more than this body,” Berry tells me when we meet over lunch. “So when that starts to go, maybe for the first time in my life, people will focus on the other aspects of me that I think are way more interesting.”

But what about the unmatched privileges that youth and beauty can bestow in a culture obsessed with both? Surely, she’ll miss that power, right?

No.

That’s never defined her, Berry would like you to know. “It might feel good to have everybody look at you, but it’s always been a hollow win for me because I had nothing to do with how I came here looking,” she says. “I do have everything to do with the kind of mother that I am, the kind of partner that I’ve been, the movies that I’ve been a part of, the acting accolades I’ve garnered over the years, my charity work. I do take ownership over those things that I’ve worked really hard at, and if somebody finds value in those things that lights me up.”

Over the course of Berry’s more than three-decade career, the Cleveland-born pageant queen turned Hollywood legend, has shattered glass ceilings, blazed trails, and persevered in a business that breaks the best of them. Along the way, she’s proved her range, playing unattainable bombshells and downtrodden crackheads, starring in classic romantic comedies, heart-tugging dramas, and sci-fi spectacles. She’s been a BAP, a Bond girl, a Catwoman, and a silver-haired mutant named Storm. She even morphed into a washed-up, MMA brawler scrapping for redemption in Bruised, her 2020 directorial debut.

And she’s not slowing down. Her latest projects, the psychological thriller, Never Let Go (out this fall) and the action comedy, The Union (released this summer), kept her busy for well over a year. Never follows the story of a mother and her twin sons living off the grid after evil spirits have taken over the world. Their only protection is to stay tethered to each other and their forest cabin via a winding rope. In Union, she plays Roxanne, an ass-kicking secret agent who drafts her unsuspecting high school sweetheart (Mark Wahlberg) into her high-stakes world of international espionage. The two characters couldn’t be further apart, but Berry deftly inhabits both the haunted, self-sacrificing mama bear and sexy spy who’ll stop at nothing to achieve her mission.

The common thread is that several of her most recent films have required her to heavily lean into her physicality. For Bruised alone she studied jiu jitsu, Muay Thai, and Taekwondo. A proud smile flits across her face when she shares that she broke two ribs during filming. She broke three on the set of John Wick: Chapter 3 Parabellum.

The physical roles, she explains, connect her to her inner child, the one that wanted to be an Olympic gold gymnast before an injury cut short that dream. If John Wick star Keanu Reeves is still playing action heroes in his last 50s, surely Berry, a self-professed adrenaline junkie, can too.

“Age is just a number that they stick on us at birth,” Berry says. “As women, we get defined by it way more than men do and sometimes it can debilitate us. It can trick us into thinking what we’re supposed to do. We have to kick that in the face and say, no, I’m going to do what I can do as long as I feel good doing it! And that will be whatever I want it to be. I get to define that.”

For our interview, Berry has traded the Gucci frocks and big-ticket baubles for a significantly understated 'fit: paint-splattered cargo pants, a simple white T-shirt, and a tan applejack hat. She’s chosen our lunch spot, a members-only club on Sunset Boulevard with a Grand Budapest Hotel-inspired vibe and a strict, no-photos-allowed policy; the type of joint A-listers enjoy for the promise of anonymity. We’re perched in a quiet rooftop corner, chatting so freely we barely touch our food (she ordered the chicken breast; I ordered the salmon) or notice the hours slip by.

Naturally, things start off light—she marvels at my miniature handwritten notes; I marvel at her ability to do burpees at damn near 60—but talk grows deeper as the day progresses. Prioritizing her health, for example, has been a matter of life or death, Berry reveals. Diagnosed with diabetes in her early 20s after lapsing into a diabetic coma, the actress, in a bid to stay off insulin, has been fastidious about nutrition. She axed sugar from her diet decades ago and refuses to look back. “Sugar is the enemy,” she says. “You couldn’t put anything sweet in front of me right now and pay me to eat it. I’m just not interested.”

Her longevity regimen currently includes a cocktail of vitamins and supplements, progesterone, testosterone, estriol, red light therapy, hot and cold therapy, and daily workouts. A by-product of these choices, she says giddily, is she's “arrived at this place feeling better and stronger than I did when I was in my 20s. I feel like I’m now at the pinnacle.”

Berry wants us all to imagine a midlife that’s significantly richer than a wrinkle-free existence; to boldly embrace a second chapter that gives license to not shrink, but to blossom. This, in large part, is what has fueled her menopause advocacy work and her fight to destigmatize conversations about this natural phase of life.

She’s not alone. As issues surrounding abortion and women’s reproductive rights have taken center stage in the national conversation, more and more women are speaking up about this once taboo subject. Social media is now awash with menopause-inspired content and celebrities like Naomi Watts, Oprah Winfrey, Salma Hayek, and Gwyneth Paltrow have joined the chorus. But only Berry has shouted “I’M IN MENOPAUSE!!!” from the steps of Congress. And only Berry and a bi-partisan group of senators are pushing for legislation that would earmark $275 million dollars for research, medical worker retraining, and public awareness campaigns around menopause and midlife women’s health issues. The dearth of information and medical gaslighting surrounding women’s health is astonishing, the actress tells me, before pointing out that women weren’t even routinely included in clinical trials until federal law required it in 1993.

Senator Patty Murray (D-WA), lead author of the Advancing Menopause Care and Mid-Life Women’s Health Act, says that Berry’s contributions to this cause are vital. “Halle has been invaluable in pushing forward a serious conversation about menopause and has been tremendously helpful in meeting with members of Congress personally to make the case for our menopause research bill,” Murray says. “She’s been a great partner and I know she’ll continue to be part of this effort as we work to advance our legislation.”

It’s not the first time Berry’s delved into politics. In an effort to protect her children from overzealous tabloids, she successfully championed an anti-paparazzi bill that became law in California in 2013. Like that battle, this one is personal. “We’ve been expected to get these babies out and then who cares what happens to us. Y’all just get through it the best way you can.” That could no longer be the answer for Berry. “The fighter in me said, hell no, we deserve better! We are half this population. Those kids are here because we bring them here. You don’t get to forget us now for the second half of our journey. We were valuable then and we’re valuable now.”

Value is a word that comes up often when I speak with Berry. She wants to be of value, yes, but she also wants her work to be of deep value to all of the communities she represents. To that end, Berry’s wellness vertical Re-spin, centered around empowering people on their longevity journey, is no mere celebrity vanity project, she says. From its recipes promoting hormonal health to optimized workouts from a resident troupe of trainers, she wants Re-spin to be a leading resource for the more than one billion women across the globe who will be in menopause by 2025.

“Her fierce commitment to devoting the second act of her life to helping millions of other women embrace this phase of their lives has been incredible to witness,” Re-spin partner, Natalie Bruss, says. Berry’s advocacy is resonating because she’s “incredibly aspirational and refreshingly authentic—two qualities you don’t see together often," Bruss adds. It’s why she connects with women on a remarkably personal level.”

Though hard to believe, Berry admits that her ego once had her convinced that she would skip menopause altogether. She's already defied the odds with two geriatric pregnancies, giving birth to her daughter at 41 and her son at 48 (naturally, she points out), so of course her body would miraculously find a way to zoom past the 'pause, she reasoned.

When the excruciating, post-coital vaginal dryness she experienced four years ago was misdiagnosed as a severe case of herpes (leading to an unsettling 72 hours of trading accusatory side-eyes with her boyfriend, musician Van Hunt, while waiting for her negative test results) she discovered that she did not outrun biology and was in menopause. She set about learning all she could about her changing body and has since been devoted to sharing that knowledge.

She even offers to personally counsel me through any hormonal shifts my 40-something-year-old body may be experiencing. I dive right in with questions, because one, Berry makes me feel like I can ask her anything, and two, it's not everyday a gal gets to swap frozen-shoulder stories with an icon. She's evangelical about spreading the gospel of life after menstruation ends and returns to the subject repeatedly. "It's an exciting time for a rebirth," she says. "It's not the time to pack it up. It's the time to ask, Now that I'm free, what can I do?"

In 2002, Berry became the first Black woman to win the Best Actress Oscar for Monster's Ball, a feat that cemented her in the annals of history. Those who have achieved the heralded distinction of being a “first,” understand that it comes with its own unique rewards and challenges. As Kamala Harris vies to be the nation’s first female president, she’s had to contend with racist and sexist attacks questioning her intelligence, experience, and ability. Berry can relate. She too has had her talent questioned. She too has been denied opportunities because of her race and gender. She too has been called an angry Black woman. “And you know what? Sometimes I am because we sit at the bottom of society,” Berry says. “That’s anger-making, when deep down you know it’s unjust and unfair. Yeah, that makes you mad.”

And yet, you have to swallow that fury to survive, I say, knowingly.

“Swallow it bitter and spit it sweet. That’s what we’ve had to do. I’ve done it my whole life,” she says ruefully. “That’s how we get through it.”

Another silver lining of aging? Berry doesn’t have to play that game anymore. “I’m now usually one of the oldest people in every room I walk in and that’s a good feeling,” she says. “I don’t have to be the dancing bear. I don’t have to worry about appeasing everybody in the room, or care about everybody else’s egos, or their insecurities, or give them what they’re wanting from me if it’s not what I’m wanting to give them. My daughter says, ‘don’t ask mom, because she’s got no fucks to give. Don’t ask her unless you want the answer for real.’”

During Berry’s Oscar acceptance speech, she dedicated the momentous occasion to several of her peers and trailblazing predecessors: “This moment is so much bigger than me. This moment is for Dorothy Dandridge, Lena Horne, Diahann Carroll….And it’s for every nameless and faceless woman of color that now has a chance because this door tonight has been opened,” she said tearfully.

But in the more than 20 years since that night, no other Black actress has taken home the grand prize, a fact that’s not lost on Berry. “I'm still eternally miffed that no Black woman has come behind me for that best actress Oscar, I'm continually saddened by that year after year. And it's certainly not because there has been nobody deserving,” she says, pointing to Andra Day’s star-making turn in The United States vs. Billie Holiday and Viola Davis’s lead in Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom, as prime examples.

Despite these snubs, Black women have enjoyed unprecedented levels of Hollywood visibility and opportunity, both on and off camera, in recent years. Berry proudly acknowledges the role she’s played in making the industry more hospitable for all women of color and is thrilled to now see so many working. “Would I rather have awards or a kickass, robust, soaring career as a Black woman? I’d take the kickass, soaring career over an award any day,” she says.

Until recently, Berry’s romantic life had been less successful than her career. “I have two baby daddies and three divorces under my belt,” she says with a wry chuckle. Gossip rags have done brisk business chronicling her unions and breakups, starting with her first marriage in her 20s to baseball star David Justice and continuing with her recent divorce from French actor Olivier Martinez.

Her split from Martinez prompted the actress to look inward. She swore off dating for three years to focus exclusively on self-healing, a “sabbatical to understand me,” is how she describes this period. She read extensively, went to therapy, traveled to India, and learned how to meditate in a substantive way.

The deeper she dug, the clearer the realizations. “I created my career. I was intentional about that. I knew what I was going to do, and I did it,” she explains. “But I had never been that intentional with my relationships. I was loosey goosey with that. You have to be clear with the universe [or] any old thing will find you.”

She began writing detailed lists of what she wanted and needed in a partner. “The minute I started to feel like I understood myself and what I had been doing wrong, Van’s brother, who I had known for many years, came to me and said, ‘you should meet my brother.’” This was in 2020, at the height of the pandemic.

Berry and Hunt’s romance unfolded slowly from a distance. No in-person dates or FaceTime, just daily texts and phone calls for six months. In that time, they forged a bond, revealing their deepest thoughts, “the good, the bad, where all of the bodies were buried,” she says. When Hunt and Berry, both Ohio natives in their fifties, finally met it was explosive. Her connection with the Grammy-award-winning soul artist was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. “It was the first time I was madly in love before I had sex. That has never happened to me, ever,” she says. “Talk about one of those life-changing, beautiful experiences. It was magical, just magical.” The couple soft launched their relationship on Instagram in July 2020 with a sunrise photo of their intertwined feet. They've been inseparable since. Berry, who now lives with Hunt in West Hollywood, is even contemplating marriage again but is in no rush. “It took me a minute to get it right,” she admits. “But the nature of the way this happened, I have a real belief that this is it. This is my person.”

Berry is hard at work on the script for an upcoming project that she plans to direct. Tentatively titled Half A Day, the film is a torrid love story that explores existential questions about augmented reality, evolution, and the afterlife. “What happens when we die? Is that something to be afraid of? Where do we go? It’s a big subject in my household and certainly between Van and I,” she says.

After the global success of Bruised, she signed a multi-title production deal with Netflix that will keep her working closely with the streamer for the foreseeable future (talks of a Union sequel with Wahlberg are already percolating and Berry says she’s definitely game).

With each passing year, she grows even more self-assured, more confident in her strength. “I’ve finally realized that no matter what life throws my way, I’m going to handle it,” she declares. “It’s going to be okay. I don’t have to worry.”

This story appears in the 2024 Changemakers Issue of Marie Claire.

Photography Yana Yatsuk | Videographer Mike Williamson | Stylist Deborah Afshani | Hair Stylist David Stanwell | Makeup Artist Jorge Monroy | Manicurist Thuy Nguyen | Set Design Nicholas Bijan Pourfard