and lose weight fast!
Parent and child switch bodies and learn lessons walking a mile in each other’s shoes!
Positive Male Role Models!
The underdog wins the game!
O’Malley and The Greek would draw out a one-minute dialogue from The Treasure of The Sierra Madre into an hour of hyperventilating chuckles.
When they took turns out-doing each other the way Paul Newman says “Mendacity” in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof—“The mendacity.” “No, no, no—the mendacity.”—I knew better than to invest my one good ear too attentively for fear of being appointed referee.
If their collaborative synopsis of a movie began at noon, we’d be lucky to approach its climax by the time we moved over to The Other Greek Place for supper.
Top Gun, Crocodile Dundee, Platoon, Inchon, The Karate Kid Part II, Star Trek IV, Back to School, Heaven’s Gate, Aliens, Eddie Murphy in The Golden Child, Cafe Flesh, Ruthless People, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Dead Zone, New Wave Hookers, Down and Out in Beverly Hills, Plan 9 from Outer Space, The Color of Money, Stand by Me, all the Emmanuelle movies, Legal Eagles, Cobra, Police Academy 3, Peggy Sue Got Married: We loved them all!
But consistent with The Family’s fetish for secret knowledge, I loved obscure movies most of all: Monte Hellman, Bad Timing, Weekend.
You ever seen The Great Gatsby, Bob Redford and everything pastel?
Or Fahrenheit 451?
The Man of La Mancha with Peter O’ Toole as Quixote and Sophia Loren as Dulcinea del Toboso?
A Catcher in the Rye starring Leo DiCaprio?
Obviously as a body of work, Kubrick speaks to me like no other filmmaker.
2001 not only made me smarter, it taught me how time passes.
He goofed The Family in Strangelove and The Barbarians in A Clockwork Orange.
And The Shining, that is the movie I would’ve made.
But my favourite Kubrick film has always been the moon landing, obviously.
Diana means moon.
And above all others, my single favourite movie ever is River’s Edge.
A teen melodrama like Rebel Without a Cause but with thrash music, it had a limited release 18 months ago.
You know it, Principled Reader?
Keanu, Ione, Crispin, Dennis Hopper.
I never won’t watch it when it’s on.
As much as I loved seeing movies, and I loved O’Malley and The Greek’s role-playing and context unravellings, most of all I loved making up movies.
I always thought—or felt—I should’ve been a director.
That’s the chips down, final curtain, ultimate disappointment of my life, at the root of my identity.
Any time a small crack of quiet arose as O’Malley and The Greek transitioned from their real-time synopsis of one film to the next, they were always happy to hear out my next ideas for a movie.
“Duh, unga-bunga. Duh, unga-bunga. Duh, unga-bunga. Duh, unga-bunga,” I’d say.
And they steadfastly encouraged me, nodding, very interesting, very interesting. Good idea, good idea.
But The Family made it clear: by no means would they accept me putting my name on movies.
With movies, each generation gets remembered according to the limitations of its technologies, how the representation most obviously differs from lived reality.
Long ago, silent people bumped around slightly more quickly than we do.
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