Cusack at 40

Which John Cusack Are You?

John Cusack turned 40 yesterday.

How does this affect me? Over the last couple of days I've been thinking about it. I am offically old now. I am no longer valid, I don't carry the clout I used to. Sure, I am 38 and still have a couple of years to go but now that Cusack has gone into middle age, so have we all. I'm speaking for the Breakfast Club/John Hughes generation. Even though Cusack wasn't in any Hughes movies, he is still a big part of our collective memories of that time. The Sure Thing and One Crazy Summer, even though those are pretty lame teen movies at the time, they served their purpose. They were predictable flicks but at the time I was pretty predictable too. Cusack would go on to make classics like Say Anything, Bullets over Broadway, Grosse Point Blank, Being John Malchovich and Hi-Fidelity but I'll always remember him as being the everyman for the eighties. They're were others, like the guy from Pretty in Pink, but Cusack is the only one who endured through the 90's and into the present.

The main appeal of Cusack's characters was that they eschewed material gains for a higher calling. In The Sure Thing he gives it all up to travel cross country to be with a girl he knows is a sure thing only to realize that it's a truly empty endevour. In Say Anything he was such a breath of fresh air when everyone thought it would be a good idea to be just like Alex P. Keaton or Gordon Gecko. Here comes this guy who justs wants to live a life where he doesn't want to process, market or sell anything. A proponent of sustainablity well ahead of his time. I think their's even a scene of him recyling. Looking back at those movies, they are dated (Say Anything survives without as many scratches) but at the time they really gave me hope that once I got out of my teens things might be a little bit better.

If this world had allowed someone like Cusack to excel, things couldn't be so bad.

When Hi-Fidelity came out, I saw it in the theatre 5 times. It was my Titanic and I was the lovesick girl waiting for the ship to finally hit the iceberg. Just as she was surprised every time it happened I was surprised when he got back together with his girlfriend (especially after hitting so many icebergs along the way). At the time, my life mirrored his in many ways (sans owning the record store, I owned a recording studio). Something about the perpetual Slacker appealed to me deeply. Sure he wanted to have opinions on wine and jet lag but in the end he was happy to put his energies into what others considered worthless. Anyone who can do anything without the promise of monetary gain, I Love.

Now that I am offically invalidated, what does that mean? It means the pressure is off. No one is paying attention to me. I can go about my business as usual and if I do manage to say something to a person in their teens that's considered worthy then cool. But as for now, I will write my stories, make my films and live my life as if their is no biological clock looming in the distance. All this with the presence of mind to put as much individuality and creativity in all that I do. Pretty well the same existence Lloyd Dobbler or Rob Gordon had fashioned for themselves.

Up to no good

Just got through The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift, Dear Wendy, Syriana and the commentary track on Good Night, and Good Luck. FATF:TD was similarly themed to The Last Samurai but infinitely more entertaining. File it under: to bad to be actually awful. It's a great Drive-Movie. As far as Syriana goes, I love hearing the Director Steve Gahgan speak but I think he's too intelligent for his own good. I really couldn't get emotionally involved in this movie. Critic Armond White said we learn more about world politics from watching Sahara (Yes, the one with Penelope Cruz) than we do from sitting through Syriana. I want to see Sahara now cause lord I wants to learn.

Dear Wendy is one of my current cinematic crushes. The combination of Lars Von Trier and Thomas Vinterberg works famously. The visual style, concept and musical choices (The Zombies) are the strengths of this movie. The only minor flaw I found was in the overly expository voice over at the start. Granted they had a lot of ground to cover but once that sequence passed my senses were held prisoner for the remainder of this great flick. If I was 16 I would watch it over and over again and if a prospective girlfriend didn't like it she'd be toast. As Mona said "it works on so many levels".

I've been writing two screenplays (one with Misli, one with Mona) and trying to get a 10 minute dog promo down to 5 minutes. Other than that I'm trying to decide whether I am getting a sinus infection again or if I'm allergic to something.

Dangerously close to the P-word

I spewed this out during my weekly writing group. Posting this is either brave or...well, you decide.

I am co-opted sentiment for the masses pre-digested for your particular demographic. I am a graphic representation of a soul that has been dragged behind a car for its entire journey through South America in the rainy season. I am Melba toast that has been reconstituted with heat and fluid. I am the fluidity of analogue impulses, the way it was before digital codes took the place of real emotion. I am the Kilometer from Granville Island to Science World, where we see the city in flux. We hope it will be so much more but are expecting the worst. I am child-like co-ordination when doing a skillful act for the first time. I am the ball and gag on the oppressor of youth. I am terrible soup that can’t decide if it really wants to be stew. I am perturbed by impatience but not persistent enough to do anything positive or earth changing. I am two people walking in the desert looking for their twins when really they should be content with each other. I am the Canada arm on the space shuttle, which is ever powerful in zero gravity but on earth in can'’t even lift its own weight. I am Priscilla before she met Elvis and before she experienced the gaudy wonder of Graceland. I am Bob Dylan before he plugged in and got booed. I am a hybrid car that will save you 5000 dollars over 5 years. I am the 5000 dollars you saved only to spend it on expensive Lattes at Starbucks. I am a Robot that does all the things a human does only better. I am a pitch for the best movie in the world but I’m too time consuming and cost prohibitive. I am puppy’s breath before it turns into shit scented gob. I am a Velvet curtain in an old lounge that hasn’t seen daylight in 32 years. I am taller than a giraffe yet quicker than a cheetah. I am the resonance you feel after watching an Italian movie from the early 60’s. I am the de-saturated colour you pull from the overstated 1950’s Hollywood Epic. I am to long in the tooth to be short sighted. I am pleased to report that fat is still tasty. I am so much more than a jiggling ass and a great set of tits writhing up and down a brass pole as the lights randomly illuminate my soul. I am the tigress that eats her young because her DNA won’t let her go. I am a CSI lab sequence that needs expensive editing techniques and pumping music to make it more palatable. I am sturdy as a fireplug and used just as rarely. I am Peter Parker before he gets bitten by the spider. I am the geek in the Dugeons and Dragons club after he discovers booze and pot. I am leather chaps that don’t cover the really important parts. I am Monday night football that gives hope to America’s dull work-a-day existence. I am 60’s French pop that gets its message across without making any of its lyrics comprehensible. I am vocal chords that have been strained beyond repair yet still sing like they did 29 years ago. I am the perpetual oyster movement in a Rolex watch; all smooth, no click. I am joining the ranks of the disenfranchised fast food franchise owners.

Mormons VS. Scientologists

As we know, celebrities have a propensity for bat-shit crazy behaviour. So to stave off this madness they must search for some meaning in life. What's the salve, the balm, the panacea? The two most interesting are Mormonism and Scientology. So which camp holds the most street cred? Well lets take a look...

Scientologists
Tom Cruise
Beck
Jenna Elfman
Jason Lee
John Travolta

Mormons
Low
Neil Labute
Napoleon Dynamite
Fay Wray
Aaron Eckhart

On the Mormon side you must be thinking "holy shit these people know how to compartmentalize". To me, Mormons generally are more depressed and doom-centric. A band like Low questions those big questions in life just like Neil Labute does. As far as Napoleon Dynamite, well that cat is funny and that's because he keeps a cache of canned goods and emergency supplies in his basement plus he's allowed to have several wives. Fay Wray, an inspiration to Peter Jackson, needs no introduction. When King Kong is about to mash her in his jaws she knows she's one of the chosen and she's guaranteed to go to Mormon Valhalla.

I spent most of my formative years surrounded by Mormons in Lethbridge and Edmonton. They all had tons of kids and most of them where these gorgeous Aryan creatures that wouldn't be out of place on Laguna Beach. If you wanted that hot pussy all you had to do was dive head first into the rich talent pool Joseph Smith cooked up. At what cost though? Yes, you would have to deny yourself every joy man has concocted: Caffeine, Coca Cola, booze, cigarettes, Premarital sex (you could be in close proximity to the pussy but you just couldn't utilize it to it's full potential) and masturbation (can't get to the pussy; can't relieve yourself either). All the Latter-Day Saint boys would have to prepare for their missionary work which usually consisted of them sinning as much as they could before such task took place. I remember these kids were usually the first to get laid, drunk, toke up and come out of the closet. Directly after these life changing spirtuality questioning experiences they would repent hard and denounce any one who could slip that low, cause they'd been there and now they're so much above it. They were all so cute in the way they were hypocritical. Latter-day amnesia would wash away their sins after a Saturday night of debauchery, leaving them only a faint glimmer of guilt in the Sunday morning church light.

On the Scientologists side, Ok, you’re thinking Beck and Jason Lee are pretty cool. If you think that, you must have been in a coma since the 90's cause their output as of recent is less than engaging. When we take an even closer look the Scientologists don't fair too well. First of all, legend has it, Kurt Vonnegut had a bet with L. Ron Hubbard that he couldn't start a religion. At the time it must have been the most outrageous thought ever; that a Science fiction writer could have loyal minions following his insane ramblings.

Now look at the followers and you'll understand.

It's one of the few cults that actually legitimizes these people's inappropriate behaviour. When you're jumping on a couch in "Cruise control" or telling Brooke Shields she shouldn't be going to psychotherapy you need a fucked up support system to back up these preposterous claims. Or, to quote Top Gun - Your mouth is writing cheques your ass can't cash. I've hated Jenna Elfman's perky disposition for years. I couldn't put my finger on her source of inspiration but now I know and fuck it makes me happy. I couldn't wish Scientology on a nicer person.

What's great about Mormon artists is that no subject is taboo. Aaron Ekhart has played every manner of amoral misogynist sleezeball imaginable; usually under the tutelage of Neil Labute. Low sing about Whores, Clinical Depression and all the great sins of the secular world. Scientologists are simply swelling the ranks of bad action films, chick-flicks and turgid sit-coms. They would rather perpetuate the idea of this escapist dreamworld that mainstream media champions than delve into the grittier alcoves of real life.

When I do become famous don't be surprised if I'm waving my Latter-Day Saints flag with great vigor.

Vegas, I abhor you, though I know you not.

My grandfather Victor Leickner in the desert near Vegas, 1958

I have never been to Vegas but people are always telling me to go to Vegas. First off they all know what type of person I am so they make excuses for Vegas. They add substance to Vegas. If that fails they go on to say Vegas is a vacation from substance (and too much substance is just plain boring). They don’t actually say all that but that’s their general synopsis of the Vegas experience. What is it about Vegas then, that makes the enlightened babbling apologists? Is it an Oasis that Bugsy Seagel created out of sand as an ode to a woman he adored? Sometimes I think Vegas is all that’s wrong with North America. It’s too much make-up, too much development, too much glitz and mega-consumption. It’s cacophonously loud and open all night. All this is bound to bring out the worst in people. Then again I’m not so sure about that last point. This is all speculation; it’s all a priori. I don’t think I can judge the veracity of this city’s intentions unless I am there. Will I love it or will I just be disgusted and bored. Is the lack of substance going to overwhelm me or will I fall for Cirque Du Soleil’s latest offering: Love by the Beatles. It probably won’t change me in any great way. I’m 38 and relatively set in my ways. So do I even need to go to Vegas to feel what everyone tells me to feel? Will I find this ecstatic truth that Werner Herzog speaks of? He laments there are no pure images left, that if we want such a thing we must go to another planet. So must we then search out the most impure, inorganic images ever crafted by man? Probably. Vegas does not have a monopoly on these manufactured images but it’s a good place to start. Perhaps through progressive images we may find truth. Through a Frank Gehry Building or a Miami Skyline we may see snatches of ecstasy. This is not so hard to find these days, now that every centimeter of our planet contains man’s enormous carbon footprint. So the place to start really is Vegas. All spokes are attached to this hub. So yes, I will go to Vegas and yes something will be reinforced in me and I will learn cause that is all we really want; to be better than we were last week. And if we can pass this knowledge unmangled to others so much the better. I won’t go tomorrow or in the near future but I will report back to you when I’ve accomplished my mission.

Holding out hope

I hold out a lot of hope for the future of Cinema. It's good to hope for something and then to finally discover a work of art embodies the sentiments and sensibilities you find most compelling in fiction. Two films I am looking forward to this summer are The Puffy Chair and Little Miss Sunshine. The former because this movie seems to exemplify what indie filmmaking is all about. Supposedly the budget was 10 grand; which won’t even cover the coke and hooker per diem in a Hollywood production. It was shot on mini DV and visually it looks like poo. The real draw to this is the acting, which further proves you can film on any format as long as you have a great script and compelling performances. The latter because it contains the brilliant Steve Carrel, (40 year old Virgin, Daily Show, The Office) a stellar supporting cast and a funny-as-hell script. Alan Arkan does well in his comedic roles and he seems to have a few zingers in this one. This of course is from the trailers I have seen (plus the 8 min featurette for the Puffy Chair) so I could be way off. Garden State is a perfect example of a movie that I had high expectations for that let me down big time. I hate all movie endings that have a chase to stop the lover from getting on a plane. The Airport scene must die. Zach Braff, stick to making great mixed tapes cause that’s all the good that came out of this little vanity project. So we will see if either of these are this years Lost in Translation, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind or just mindless wastes of time.