It was about six or seven years ago that I met a guy named Brett via my singles dinner club job. In fact I just completed an interview for the position of event host at an event location prior to start of a dinner event, was hired on the spot and was asked if I could stay for the dinner as a guest to cover a last-minute, female cancellation. I agreed. After all, I was single and thought it would be best to try the service before I began marketing it. It was at dinner that I met Brett.
From memory, I can only describe Brett as cute. He was a few years younger, though his boyishly handsome face and features made me feel significantly older. He was on the shy side, not very talkative, but kept making eyes at me during our Cajun seafood meal (Soul Kitchen was the restaurant that night, for those of you who remember the place that used to be on the corner Damen and Milwaukee) . We both had the blackened shrimp and decided we've had better shrimp dishes elsewhere. Not much conversation took place. So, I was sort of surprised when SK (the boss) called me to request my approval to pass along my contact info as Brett had indicated an interest and wanted to schedule a one-on-one date with me. I double-checked with her to confirm that he was even of drinking age. SK agreed that he looked young, but insisted that he was 23. I think I was 26 at the time. Anyhow, information was exchanged and our first one on one date was over lunch in the loop on a weekday.
Wet met at a diner that used to near the Quincy el stop on Wells. I arrived first and grabbed a booth. He arrived about five minutes late, apologetic, and looked very troubled.
"What's wrong?"
"I just...I've had a really rough day at work today."
"Already? It's not even noon yet?"
"Yeah, I know"
Even at his young age, he was already vice president of a options trading company that his father owned, more specifically: wheat options. I had asked what options are exactly and the definition I got, while graciously as elementary as could be expected of the subject, was still beyond anything I could wrap my mind around.
He went on to explain why his day had taken a bad turn. "You see, this date will go on record as the most expensive date I've ever had."
"But I haven't ordered anything yet." I assumed he'd gotten a parking ticket.
"I know, but the thing is, this date has already cost me $26,000."
My jaw dropped. "What do you mean, $26,000?" Clearly not a parking ticket.
He started blushing as he confessed, "I was so very excited about seeing you and having lunch with you that I missed a very important transaction that I had on my calendar this morning. I just completely forgot about it. Missing it cost me $26,000."
"That's a lot of money."
"I know."
"You look sick."
"I sort of am. My Dad will be pissed."
"Yikes...Well, I was going to order the fish sandwich and a glass of milk, and I'm good to pay for my meal...and yours, too, if you'd like."
"No, I'm getting this, I insist."
A voice in the back of my mind was calculating $26, 006.82 and then wondering if this meant I had to sleep with him. ;)
In attempt to lighten the mood, I asked him about what his favorite movie of all time was if he had to narrow it down to only one. One film that maybe changed his life or that he could never tire of. I told him Magnolia was probably my favorite film. After hemming and hawing around for a bit, mulling over his favorites, he answered: Hot Chick.
"Hot Chick?"
"Yeah, The Hot Chick have you seen it? It's got Rob Schneider in it, from Saturday Night Live. That shit is hilarious! You have to see it! It's the best movie EVER."
Yes, of all the films in the known universe that Brett could have chosen as his personal favorite, he chose The Hot Chick. It was this precise moment in time that I knew it was over.
I was not going to marry this man. I was not going to have this man's babies. C'est fini.
For the rest of the meal, I told him stories about the crazy investment bankers I worked for and he told me about redecorating his condo, something about picking out wood floor colors and needing a woman's opinion on the decorating choices. All I know is, by the end of our lunch, Brett wanted to see me again and the brief image of his father firing him from the family business over the day's $26,000 loss was leverage enough to guilt me into a third date. Brett wanted to see a movie with me sometime the following week. I could hardly wait to see what the film choice might be.
Cut to the following week: He had given me a choice of movies. I don't remember what all the options are, only that I chose to see Adaptation. I had no idea what the film was about, but I knew it was by the writer who wrote Being John Malkovich, which I had liked well-enough. We met at the Landmark Century and the theatre was so crowded for the show that we could only get seats in the very front row. From the opening monologue, I became completely engrossed in the film. It just so happened that about two weeks prior, I had seen a Nova special on PBS called Orchid Hunters that was based on the very Susan Orlean's book that Adaptation revolved around and I couldn't get it out of my mind. I was obsessed with it. I had decided after seeing the Nova program that I wanted my next full-length play to take place in a greenhouse and explore some of the passion behind orchid hunting. Imagine to my surprise (it actually gave me goosebumps), as the very script of Adaptation unravelled before me. Even though I was in the front row, I found myself sitting on the edge on my seat anticipating every next word spoken, every new exciting nuance that made that film so amazing. I forgot I was even watching it with someone. In fact, I think Brett may have tried to hold my hand a few times, but I was too busy admiring the work of the great Charlie Kaufman to even notice someone was holding my hand. By the time the credits were rolling, I needed a cigarette, and I don't even smoke. I was in complete an utter awe the craft that went into the writing of that film, I practically speechless. On our walk out of the theater, Brett said apologetically, "Sorry, I thought it was going to be better. But, it had it's moments, I guess. What did you think of it?" I stopped walking, looked him square into his big brown eyes and replied, "That was one of the best films I think I have ever seen in my life."
Surprised at my answer, he started to backtrack..."Yeah, it was pretty good, I guess. Had some very funny moments." I knew he was referring to the moment in which the character of Charlie was masturbating to the photo image of the Susan Orlean character (Meryl Streep). I knew this because it was the only moment during the film that I remember being aware of Brett at all. In fact, everyone in the theater became aware of Brett during that scene because he erupted into guffaw laughter while the rest of the audience sat silently watching. I was momentarily embarrassed for him.
In any case, that night Brett and I parted ways with talk of maybe getting together again, though, fortunately, nothing ever came of it. I will say, that seeing Adaptation did delay my attempt to write about orchids and orchid hunting as I felt I could never measure up and that now it wouldn't even seem original. Eventually, I did write the play Le Chalet d'Orchadia several years later.
Anyhow, I write this because it was that date with Brett seeing Adaptation that marked the beginning of my love affair with Charlie Kaufman films. Since then, I have also enjoyed his films Human Nature, Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and tonight I add Synechdoche, New York to the list. I caught the Sunday afternoon matinee at the same Landmark Century theater. While watching it, I thought...this is not for everyone. This is not for Brett nor is it something for most people I know. But, for me, nothing much beats it. I still had moments of goosebumps. Especially when we are first introduced to the house that is on fire but never really burns. It very closely resembled the dream I had several months ago that my office burned down. In the dream, I was at work, but instead of being three floors of a high-rise, the office is housed all in a large one-story building. There is smoke all around and I discover that it is because a sofa and a chair are on fire, just burning away. Most people are simply going about their business as if nothing is happening, with the exception of three HR execs who are sitting casually around the burning furniture blowing on it, to try and keep the fires contained. I reiterate to them that the building is on fire and ask if they've called 911. They say they called someone several days ago no one has come yet. I convince them that we need to evacuate the building immediately and they do this, reluctantly. Everyone slowly leaves and gets on shuttle buses that are supposed to take us to safety and there are fires on the buses, just burning and smoking and no one seems to notice. It's as if it's normal everyday environment. Even when I awoke from the dream, I understood why I dreamt it. It was a wonderful metaphor for the self-destruction the company was going through and continues to go through. The dream ended with a dialogue exchange in which I decline the CEO's offer to get me a drink from the bar (in another room with a fire blazing in a fireplace) and I tell him that I am leaving soon. It was my awareness of my limited time left with the company. So, you can imagine how crazy it was for me to watch those scenes in the film.
My dream reference allowed me to notice that the only moments that Caden was aware of the passage of time was when he was alone with Hazel and only in association with Hazel's home, because fire consumes and whatever is on fire is something that is passing away before your very eyes. It also allowed us to know that we were learning Hazel's story through the mind of Caden (gave us perspective).
I also dream repeatedly of massive structures that are only partially built, such as Caden's cityscape in the warehouse and also I have dreamed about the big air blimp that shows up in the background of this film at least once. I can't help but wonder if Kaufman and I have the same types of recurring dream elements. Perhaps these are common dreams, though. I can say, I have only once dreamed of being in a scene with another version of myself and Kaufman seems to enjoy playing with ego and alter-ego characters in his works quite a bit. I love that Caden and Adele's artistic disciplines are opposite extremes: hers being the smallest miniature paintings likely ever to have ever been painted and his being the most massive, three-dimensional, theatrical set that has likely ever been built. Such beautifully ridiculous polarity.
What I admire most about Kaufman's work is that it is so marinated in raw honesty that it is messy and dripping with it. In fact, Synechdoche is probably the messiest of all his films in that it is far from being a nice, tidy plot. You are infused in Caden's confusion right along with him from the moment he is struck in the head. In Adaptation, Kaufman wrote about a screenwriter named Charlie Kaufman who is given the opportunity to write a screenplay adaptation of an actual book and the very screenplay is about his process of writing it. In Synechdoche, Kaufman's directorial debut, the story follows a director who is given the opportunity to write and direct something magnificent and the process in which he attempts to do this in that same Russian-nesting-doll style he does so well. You can't get any more honest than documenting the process of creating what you are creating while you are creating it. Synecdoche also contains some of the most beautiful spiritual symbolism that I have ever seen in a film. It meets me right where I am, right now; so, it's my cup of daily tea. There is no better cinematic illustration I can think of that emphasizes how life is a journey and not a destination, that we are responsible for creating our own reality, and that everyone and everything is a part of the same universal life force- all of this in a show versus tell style that is so rare in writing. Caden's accident lends itself to the showing of Kaufman's ideas about life by justifying Caden spending much of his time in his subconscious mind rather than his logical mind to let us see what lies beneath the surface - our creating mind. Still, I know that Kaufman is only scratching the surface of both philosophy, spirituality and his many talents, leaving me hungry still for whatever might be next.
And, while I have never seen The Hot Chick, I'd bet my first-born that it could never measure-up to a Kaufman film any day of the week.
p.s. The photo used for the Cannes poster actually represents one of my very favorite moments in the film.
Read more...
Posts
