Can You Dig It?

Who would want to see this?!

That's what I thought to myself, many, many moons ago, when I was reviewing a movie for my high school newspaper, The Hoofbeat.

The film in question, which I actually loved, was Neil LaBute's 2008 squirm-inducing (in a good, uncomfortable way) "Your Friends & Neighbors." The film, starring Ben Stiller, Jason Patric, Catherine Keener, Nastassja Kinski and--Mr. Two-Face himself--Aaron Eckhart, was about a bunch of unpleasant, supremely unlikable people and their relationships with one another--sexual or otherwise. It was one of those good train wreck movies where you have to watch through your fingers because the confrontations are so intense and charged with hate and bile.

You ever hear the phrase, let the fur fly? This movie is exactly why that phrase was created.

Anyway, being the masochist that I am, I was the only one in the theater, I think, who gave the sneak preview I went to positive marks. After the film ended, people--the ones beside myself, anyway, that were brave enough to watch the film in its entirety--were practically screaming at the sweet-as-pie comment card girls, grabbing them by the lapels and spraying all kinds of mucus, spittle and bile in their faces. Thinking back now, perhaps the movie had done its job better than those audience members would have ever cared to admit at the time.

Huh. Go figure.

I never wrote the review. I thought to myself, there is no one--not a soul!!--that I could recommend this film to (especially not to those reading a high school newspaper!!). I'd be lynched!!

So, again, I asked myself Who would want to see this?! In other words, in my eyes anyway, I dropped the ball. Let's think about this for a second: For ever 30-50 people who would have read that review [BLOGGER'S NOTE: Who the fuck are you kidding, dude?! It's a goddamn high school newspaper!! Who's gonna read that shit?! I mean, half the football team couldn't even read!! For serious!! Get the fuck over yourself, STAT!!] and hated the movie with a bloody passion, there might be one person, maybe two, who might have come out of that movie feeling as invigorated as I did when I left the theater. See, there is always someone out there, waiting to be touched.

Even if it's a touch of toxic.

Anyhow, I only bring the movie up because yesterday, I had my dad read the first 37 pages of my script (Think fast!! As of right now, I'm up to page 43. My, my, my...how pages fly!!)

I believe the words he used to describe it were, to be exact, "self-indulgent psychoanalysis." He also added, "no one will want to see it."

Yeah? What's your point?

I may as well add that when I asked him if there was anything he did like, his response was "no, not really."

Here's the dealio, people. That hurt. That stung!! I mean, I'm used to receiving criticism (hello, Anonymous!), but that came from the person I admire most. He would never admit it, but I could see it in his eyes: The man hated my script.

But here's the thing. After I got to thinkin' 'bout it, and with the help of another truly gifted writer I respect and admire immensely, I was able to reach a conclusion that I've always had trouble coming to grips with.

Simply put: Not everyone's gonna dig my shit.

So, my dad doesn't like my script. Big deal. No, this is not me getting defensive about it or doing the whole bitter grapes thing. I'd like to think of it as me growing as a writer. You can't write everything for the masses. And even if you do, there are bound to be people that you will, without a doubt, disappoint. C'est la vie!

Sometimes, you just have to write for you.

And this script? This gigantic, epic thing I've been writing/obsessing over for the last month? It's very, very personal. As many of you have come to realize, whether it be from reading the script itself or by just reading between the lines of several of my latest entries, this thing is very much autobiographical. Yes, the names are changed, but it's a story of great sadness in my life, but it's also one of the dizzying, happiest times of my life.

And believe me when I say this: It's not just for me I'm writing it. You know who you are.

So, who is going to want to see this movie?

Everyone. Or no one. The truth is, I really don't care.

Later on, I asked my dad if he, in his opinion, thought I should stop writing it. You know, was it worth pushing forward and finishing it? Without hesitation, he answered "yes." When I asked him why, he responded with a very interesting answer:

"Because it's important to you."

At first I thought that was a completely condescending cop out on his part--and to a certain extent, I still do--but now I just have two things to say in response...

1.) Fair enough and 2.) Damn straight.