How are you doing as of late? I recently watched your movie "Wristcutters: A Love Story" and I have to say, you've come quite a long way since the days of roaming the West Institute Building during our summers together at Youtheatre. While I wasn't a big fan of the movie (strange considering it had Tom Waits and Will Arnett, two performers who never seem to let me down) I think you did a fine job
portraying the same teenage-blank stare character you seem have pulled off since "Almost Famous" (that one I'll forgive you for because it was your first time at the rodeo and actually served the character well). What makes you so special, huh? We both went to that theater school. We both came from under the Zion Curtain. Now that our hair is practically the same length, I can't quite place what put you on top and me at the bottom. Sounds like I'm angry, huh? I'm not. Just bitter at life's cruel twist of fate. Often times in the night I scream out, "LIFE! NO! TAKE ME, NOT PATRICK FUGIT! ME!" only to awake with a puddle of tears gluing my eyes to my pillowcase. Anyways, no hard feelings...really, I wish the best for you. You've worked hard and regardless of overall range in ability, there is something to be said for that. Just, can you, in your next movie, play a character who isn't so much...I don't know...like you? Just a suggestion."Love Always,
--The Little Guy from TSFY
--The Little Guy from TSFY
I don't really know why "Wristcutters" upset me. Guess it's been a combination of things that remind me I'm young, capable, and not anywhere near the level of success in my career that I wish to be. Guess that's a lot of 23 year olds. On the other hand, I feel like I've been working my ass off for a long time (this will be the third year I work through the Christmas and New Year holidays) and it still seems like a far climb to the top. I was driving on of the XANADU actors to the airport the other night. He's about 25, spent only the past two years in New York, and well...did I mention he's in the national tour of XANADU? Not bad. I was escorting him to the airport because he had a concert last night that was written by him and performed by him, along with a few friends. He was on the phone for most of the ride to the airport, talking with a friend, and saying over and over again, "It's it so crazy? Oh my god, it's just so fuckin' crazy! We were just sitting down and writing some dumb songs in our living room in February and now we have a sold out show with the lead singer of the Counting Crows showing up!!! It's so crazy!" Now, to clarify, I'm not jealous of this man (I don't write music and I don't like the Counting Crows). However, I'm jealous of his capabilities to be seen and heard and acknowledged critically and monetarily for what he is doing. And just since February! Of 2008! Shit...I've been writing dinky plays in my underwear and headphones with only a bag of chocolate covered raisins as a companion for god knows how many years now. When's it gonna be my time, God! Huh? When you gonna toss a little sugar to ol' me down here!?
Truth be told (and I mean it this time) I know that the road I chose is a long and tiring one. Most people barely scratch the surface before they are thirty and even then it's just a scratch. Plus, these guys above are phsyical performers who get in front of an audience to work their magic. I'm the guy in the backroom with a cigarette and a typewritter, clicking away in dreamland. Same medium, two different angels, and not really a fair comparison. I had another airport run last week that was truly encouraging though. It was 6:15 a.m. on Yom Kippur (before the secret telling and all...) and I was in a van outside a hotel waiting to take Douglas Carter Beane to the airport. I was told only that he's really tall and really nice. So around 6:25 a.m. a very tall man in an untucked button down and hoodie, with glasses and long hair, waves at me and I know it's him. He offers me breakfast but the fast keeps me away. Douglas gets in the car and immediately wants to know my story. I go through the whole list: college in New York, working out here, wanting to be a playwright. He listens intently and seems to identify greatly with my struggles. Then he says something that's been floating around in my head the last two weeks: "I write every day, even if it's not on paper." Yeah, this guy, the book writer of XANADU, sometimes writes a whole act, puts it down, and does not look at it for a year. He's got all these projects going on, but they take years and years to come to fruition. So far, he's been one of the kindest and understanding folks I've met since working here. I could just tell, he got it. He got what I was in and what I wanted to do. When he got out at the curb of the terminal he waved and said, "it's all gonna be fantastic." He should come back soon because I need more words of support. For now, it's all fantastic.
It's all fantastic.
It's all fantastic.
It's all fantastic...
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