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September 11, 2011
For the last three months on Twitter I’ve been counting down to the release of The Only Ones by listing 99 novels, movies, songs, people, places and miscellany that have inspired the book. It has been a way to honor influences and start conversations, but mostly it has been a way for me to figure out where all of this came from. These aren’t necessarily my favorite works of art (some are), but they’re the ones that gave the story its shape. So, without further ado:
2 Comments | Posted by Aaron under Books, Movies, Music, Television, The Only Ones | Bookmark or Share
January 22, 2011
If you have friends, as I assume some of you do, then you know that nothing beats playing existential head games with them. Here’s an example. For the last five or six years, I’ve been telling one pal of mine that his job, his friends, his family – his entire life! – is one big ruse, set up from the moment he was born for a singular purpose. To pants him. None of us really like him and none of us are really the people we say we are. We’re all just actors employed to orchestrate the finest, most embarrassing pantsing in history, one that will leave him so full of shame that he will likely lose the confidence to even speak to another human again.
He, of course, can’t know when this pantsing will happen. Could be next week. Could be fifty years, perhaps at a family reunion, where dozens of grandkids will point and jeer and revel in his waist-down nakedness. That’s the beauty of it. The anticipation, the butter-thick air of tension that will envelop his entire life. I assure him that I’m his only true friend because I’ve revealed this truth to him. And he laughs as if I were joking, though I know I’ve hit a nerve. Because deep down he must wonder. Especially if he’s reading this now…and tightening his belt…
I know, I know. Sounds very Truman Show. Or The Game. But, if this premise were to hit the big screen (my email address is below, Scott Rudin), I think it would have more legs than those tired old hack jobs. Just imagine the trailer:
INT. CLASSROOM – DAY
Fade in on a math class full of grade schoolers. A TEACHER writes an unfinished equation on the blackboard. YOUNG JACK raises his hand.
TEACHER
Jack. Come on up and show us.
Jack stands from his desk. As he makes his way to the blackboard, a GIRL in the back row pantomimes a downward yanking motion with her hands. The teacher shakes her head subtly and mouths a silent “Not Yet.”
BOOMING VOICE: Prepare to be shocked.
EXT. FOOTBALL FIELD – NIGHT
A roaring crowd. TEENAGE JACK barrels down the middle of the field, football tucked under his arm. When he reaches the end-zone, he spikes it, and does a wobbly kneed touchdown dance. As teammates swarm him, the QUARTERBACK gives him a hug, but then inches his hands down close to Jack’s pants. Before anything can happen, the RUNNING BACK pulls the quarterback to the side.
RUNNING BACK
Chill, Peyton. No greenlight yet. Besides, that’s lyrca.
BOOMING VOICE: When you see the film that made them faint at Cannes.
INT. CONVENTION HALL – DAY
MIDDLE-AGE JACK, wearing a suite, accepts a trophy from an OLDER GENTLEMAN at podium in a jam-packed Las Vegas Convention Hall. Jack shakes the gentleman’s hand and steps up to the podium. The gentleman looms nearby, his hands trembling in anticipation.
JACK
I have to say, this is really unexpected. And to have my family here makes it all the more special.
JACK’S WIFE, sitting in the front row, smiles humbly. His KIDS give the thumbs up.
JACK
I can’t think of what would make this day better. I don’t know if I even deserve this…
Behind Jack, a giant screen suddenly displays a message to the crowd: ABORT! SUSPENDERS.
The crowd lets out a disappointed groan. Jack’s Wife can’t help but shake her head. The kids mumble something under her breath. Jack lights up, misunderstanding.
JACK
Okay. Maybe I do!
BOOMING VOICE: But please…whatever you do.
INT. BEDROOM – MORNING
OLD JACK stands at his dresser.
JACK
You know what, honey?
BOOMING VOICE: Please don’t ever reveal…
QUICK MONTAGE: A barrage of images, Jack’s seemingly normal life flashing before the viewers eyes. Creshendo of music.
BOOMING VOICE: The horrible secret of…
INT. BEDROOM – MORNING
Jack opens his dresser drawer.
JACK
I think I’ll wear sweatpants today.
TITLE CARD: THE PANTSING
No Comments | Posted by Aaron under Childhood, Movies, Mystery | Bookmark or Share
December 15, 2010
If you’re coming here for my top 10 movies of the year or my 50 favorite disco singles, I’m afraid I’m aiming to disappoint. Those lists are fun and everything, but I really can’t find it in myself to declare Furry Vengence the 9th finest cinematic experience of 2010, even though after doing all the calculations and checking the denominators and all that jazz, it appears to be true. Instead, I leave you with a miscellany of highlights from this “year we made contact.”
MY FAVORITE QUOTE: While sharing a cab one morning with a woman she didn’t know (you’d have to live in Hoboken, NJ to understand that’s just how things usually work out), my wife heard the quote of the year. It doesn’t really stand on its own like some Oscar Wilde quip, but there’s a certain magic to it. Looking out of the window of the cab, the woman sighed, motioned to a city worker who was emptying a trash can, and said, “That guy must have such an easy life.” Now there’s a chance that this woman had some insider information about the fellow, like she knew he’d recently hit the Powerball or scored the role of the villain in the The Dark Knight Rises or some such, but my wife didn’t catch that vibe. No, this woman had more of a “poor me, sitting in a cab, trying not to be late for a morning webinar with Tony from PR to discuss the importance of Twitter in the pet insurance industry, while this simpleton empties trash cans and whistles his day away before returning to his filthy hovel for a can of Spam and a hearty round of laughs compliments of America’s Funniest Home Videos,” sort of stink about her. Grass is always greener, indeed. I don’t know who this woman was, but my hat goes off to her and her wholly insular view of the world. My second favorite quote comes from a stranger who randomly asked me and friend the following: “Hey, you guys happen to be T-shirt enthusiasts?” Our response: “We wear T-shirts.” His follow-up: “Well, I’m a T-shirt enthusiast.” End of conversation.
THE HARSHEST CELEBRITY BRUSH-OFF: Celebrities don’t care much for me. I present, as proof, my following dust-ups with some high wattage stars. The comedian Dave Attell once blew me off when I approached him in a falafel restaurant and politely gave him unsolicited advice on how to make his TV show infinitely better. Bobcat Goldthwait, the MVP of many a Police Academy film, gave me the stink-eye when I nearly ran my shopping cart into his one snowy Christmas Eve in an empty suburban grocery store. And now, just a few days ago, I was rebuffed by a certain actor who was standing at a bar after a concert, patiently waiting for the barkeep to tender him a drink. He plays an iconic television character, so I tried to be smooth in my attempt to chat him up. “Let us get you a drink ____” I told him, using his actual first name, rather than his character’s name, which I’m sure he hears more often than not. He glanced at me and my wife, pivoted around on his heel, and walked away without saying a word. I keep his identity a secret for the purposes of guessing games and anonymity, because I assume he was just shy and it wasn’t because I reeked of, I don’t know, seaweed and cheese or anything.
THE FINEST STRETCH OF ROADKILL When traveling through New Zealand a few years back, my then-girlfriend-now-wife and I played a game of our own creation called Stoat/Possum. The country is just lousy with stoats (a relative of the weasel) and possums (not this kind, but this kind) and they make up the majority of the roadkill (aside from the hobbits). So when you’re driving along and see a lump of fur on the pavement, the fun thing to do is to yell out either “STOAT!” or “POSSUM!” in a booming Orson Welles voice. No need to keep score. It’s simply good times for the whole family. Driving to see relatives this year, I came across a fair bit of roadkill. The standard raccoons and deer, the occasional skunk or groundhog. A mattress. But on one trip, I scored an amazing quadrella. I’ll break it down for you in order of impressiveness. #1. A coyote, which isn’t all that rare. #2. A fox. That’s right, the proverbial sly fox. Sure, you don’t write home about a fox being roadkill, but then, what sicko writes home about any roadkill? Take it from me. It’s a bit rare. #3. A porcupine. Now you’re getting interested. You’re imagining what it might be like to roll into a Firestone Auto Center with a porcupine sticking out of your rear tire. This is becoming quite an impressive checklist. Add to that: #4. A bear. That’s right. A big old black bear. I don’t believe I’d ever seen a bear as roadkill before that day, and certainly not on the same stretch of road as a coyote, a fox, and a porcupine. I was lucky indeed. It was like some A.A. Milne novel had gotten way out of hand, and I was there for the glorious and gory catharsis.
THE MOST POPULAR PAGE ON MY WEBSITE: By far, it’s a little blog entry I did titled “Five Animals that are Uglier than Zac Efron.” It probably accounts for 90% of this site’s search engine traffic and I’m sure it leaves plenty of girls shaking their fists in anger. Even a few have left comments, including my favorite: “he is hotter than everyone who posted this website.” Everyone who posted this website is just me, Lauren, and I resent what you’ve said. After all, have you even seen me in a pink bunny suit? I’m not sure what Efron has done in the last year other than comb his hair a lot, but his fanbase is going strong, and according to my site stats, they’re entering things like, “animals, not zac efron,” “zac efron is pregnet” and “zac efron clever?” into Google, then stopping in here for a visit. Jeff Kay, who runs the fantastic West Virginia Surf Report linked to the Efron piece and brought in boatloads of traffic as well. In the spirit of the season, I feel I should return the favor. His site is a daily read for me, and should be for you. My favorite of his writings might not be his most celebrated, but heck, it gets me every time, and it’s about something as universal as Scandinavian healthcare. It’s an old gem titled “Sleep is Creepy.” Read it, and rest easy tonight, folks.
No Comments | Posted by Aaron under Movies, Nature, Parody, Television, Whaaaa? | Bookmark or Share
May 17, 2010
The latest season of Lost premiered on February 2nd, aka Groundhog Day. It was a joke, a cheeky clue for the audience. Because they introduced a major plot device in the premiere. It’s come to be known as the “flash-sideways” narrative and it’s essentially a big “what-if.” What if the characters had a chance to do it all over again? What if the circumstances were different – no island, no smoke monster, no Geronimo Jackson spinning on the turntable? What would have happened to these poorly reared, trigger-happy pawns of science and faith? The answer seems to be that their pesky destinies would have eventually tracked them down anyway. In a week, the series will come to a close, and hopefully we’ll have a better idea about what exactly is at play. But if Lost peddles anything, it peddles ambiguity. And the faithful aren’t shy about hitting the bulletin boards to shout their opinions and theories. The internet might bust a spring or two in the hours after the finale.
I can say with a certain amount of confidence that most people will not be discussing Groundhog Day. The wink-wink-nudge-nudge premier date will be just another piece of Lost trivia, no more significant than the Hurley Bird. The date was a reference to the movie, of course, and on the surface it doesn’t seem to be much more than that. We’ve all seen the movie. A cynical weatherman played by Bill Murray lives the same day over again and again, until he finally gets it right and becomes a man who can love and play the piano.
I remember when Groundhog Day came out. It was a hit, though it barely beat forgettable fare like Dave and Cool Runnings at the box office. Critics thought it was enjoyable and clever, though they hardly thought it was earth-shattering. A better than average comedy – not much more. Over 15 years later, Groundhog Day has become not just a favorite of the revisionist cineast, but a genuine classic. The Writer’s Guild considers it the 27th greatest screenplay ever written. The New York Times even put it in a list of the Ten Best American Movies. Of the 1990s? No. Of all time! Say what you will about the existential implications of the film, about searching for meaning in our post-9/11 world. It makes for a good term paper, but I don’t think that’s the reason the film has gained such a following of late. The reason is TBS.
If you turned to the cable station TBS in the late 90′s and early 00′s, it’s likely you would have seen Groundhog Day on more than a few occasions. TBS syndicated it and played the grooves off the thing. Over time, the film worked its way into the DNA of many a channel surfer. The more familiar you became with it, the more you enjoyed it, because it was offering you the experience of its main character. You were living the film over again and again. You began to anticipate plot points (Ned Ryerson punch in 3, 2…), and the exact words and inflections of the dialogue (“Too early for flapjacks?” ”I’m a god. I’m not the God.” etc.). In other words, you learned to be one step ahead of it.
Repetition and familiarity have served Groundhog Day better than just about any film in history. It is its essence. Because of the internet and DVRs, people don’t channel surf anymore. So it’s unlikely that any other film will be able to take such a covert route to classic status. Word of mouth will create the cult followings, and blockbusters like Avatar and The Dark Knight will be anointed masterpieces as soon as the Thursday night sneak-preview receipts come in. Another Groundhog Day will probably be lost in the mix.
On the flip side, the legacy of television shows have benefited greatly from technology. With DVRs and Hulu and Netflix and so on, viewers can watch a television show at their leisure. Breaking Bad in a weekend? It’s doable (and recommended!). They can also study a television show in depth and in slow motion and in freeze-frame and every which way they want. No show has been studied more closely than Lost. Check the comment sections at Entertainment Weekly. Better yet, look at Lostpedia. The detail would make a Trekkie (sorry, a Trekker) faint. I’m a fan but holy smokes, guys! Turn off the TV and computer screens every once in a while. Shoot some hoops. Drink a beer. Dance with a girl.
The creators of Lost undoubtedly read these sites. They must if they want to keep one step ahead of their fans. And each week they see how certain ideas fly and if something’s not in the can, they rethink their plan. They adjust. They try again. People complain that they seem to be making it up as they go along, but how could they not? They can’t guarantee whether one actor will stick around for the entire run, or if a character will become a pariah on the level of Jar Jar Binks. For the last six seasons of Lost, the creators have rolled with the punches, and learned, and gone down different paths to get to the end. And now the end is finally here.
It reminds me of that last day in Groundhog Day. Bill Murray’s weatherman takes his well-earned wisdom and he puts it to the best possible use. He lives his life the way it should be lived – naturally, honestly. The Lost finale must do the same. Not everyone is going to love it, but if the creators want to escape from the perpetual “what if’s” that plague shows like Seinfeld and Battlestar Galactica, then they can’t go with gimmick or gotcha. It must be natural, honest and earned. The pressure is huge, but the payoff…well, let’s hope “it’s a doozy.”
3 Comments | Posted by Aaron under Movies, Television | Bookmark or Share
May 14, 2010
I have taken a vow of silence. A week back, I received a ticket to attend an advance screening of a big Hollywood film that premieres later this summer. I went to the film and signed some piece of paper saying I wouldn’t release information about it and I plan to hold true to that pledge. I know first hand how advance reviews can occasionally sour enthusiasm. All I will say is that during the screening, people cheered and clapped and I was absolutely flumoxed. It wasn’t the worst film I’d ever seen, but it was, to put it lightly, rather awful. And yet clapping. Cheering even. For one liners and kisses and such.
I’m going to attribute it to peoples’ excitement at being the first to see something. They were so invested in believing that they saw the next colossal hit, that they whooped and whistled their doubts away and went home and updated their Facebook profiles with something along the lines of “Guess who went to a big Hollywood premiere? I probably won’t respond to any messages for a while, cause I’m guessing I’ll be grabbing cocktails with Matthew Lillard and Eddie Furlong later. So suck it, zeroes.” Now consider this. No one was cheering when I went to see Avatar, and that movie’s box office dwarfs the GDP of many a nation. The Navi need not get their braids in a twist. I doubt the film I just saw will challenge their record.
Then again, maybe I’ve completely lost touch with the public. Maybe it will be the hit the world’s been waiting for. I’ve been wrong before. There are a few things I was sure would bomb, but went on to be wild successes:
Middlesex by Jeffrey Euginedes – I read this book months before it was released and while I could appreciate the scope, I was sure it would derided for being a blatant rip-off of Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children. Homage is one thing, but I felt Euginedes took the ideas, the form, even certain plot points of Rushdie and transplanted them with far less elegance and wonder to Greeks in the upper Midwest. I didn’t think Euginedes would be run out town with pitchforks, but I thought more than a few critics would wag a finger at him. But no. Oprah pick. Pulitzer winner. Modern classic. And no Greek equivalent of a fatwa to deal with. Go figure.
The Big Bang Theory - Not the actual theory, which I knew the kids would love. I’m talking about the television show. I think I watched the first episode or two of this sitcom and wrote it off as formulaic tripe. Virgin nerds fumble around a pretty lady while trading Star Wars metaphors. Insert laughter. I figured it would last a couple seasons with a “well, nothing else is on,” viewership, but it has become a verified hit. And critics dig it. I’ve poked my head back in to see if it’s changed. It hasn’t.
Communism – My buddy Karl assured me he was onto something. I thought it was some hippie BS. “Go back to the drum circle, Karl. Go date a girl who wears skirts and jeans at the same time, Karl.” But one toppled tsar, a shining path, and an arms race later, and it’s still kicking around. Even in our White House, at least according to my most trusted news source: Victoria Jackson.
5 Comments | Posted by Aaron under Books, Movies | Bookmark or Share
