Love List Five

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

or How Five Pretty-Boy Faces Changed My Life

by Erin Kanary

I am a big fan of  top-fiving elements of my life. It allows me to prioritize the unimportant as I pretend to work or perhaps am drinking alone. I can put things in perspective and get a better handle of my existence. Here I plan on following in the footsteps of John Cusak in High Fidelity and count down the five great loves of my life – that is, the five great loves of my life from the movies and/or television whom I have never met and will never say a word to as long as I live. Nonetheless, these Hollywood honeys have proven more impactful in my life than most men I know. Having just typed that sentence and reading it back to myself, I realize how sad that sounds. I choose to keep that sentence in, however, and I proudly stand by it. So without further delay…

Making it Complex

There have been many times I’ve gone to the theater and felt only the enjoyment of another night spent out doing something I loved doing. And I do mean many. I’ve been to the theater about a million times. I remember as a child on winter days when the snow wouldn’t allow us to go to school (Much to my excitement) we’d occasionally go see movies. Sadly, I can only remember going to see Beethoven. You know, that ridiculous movie with the dog who gets into all sorts of mischievous adventures…Well, then I’m sure you remember the completely unnecessary millions of sequels afterward…Yeah, I saw those too…I was a child.

Either way, from there my love for the movies began to grow and grow. Much like Scorsese I was a sick child and had to spend a lot of my time inside watching movies, instead of outside bird dogging chicks…and things of that sort. Not to compare myself to the likes of him but it did make me smile knowing we shared similar childhoods.  Instead I stayed inside and watched E.T. a million times over until I’d all but memorized every line.

Fuck ‘em if they can’t take a joke.

(My fingers smell like lamb and I am contemplating the credibility of Michael Cera as a serious      actor.)

My Mom used to take me and my brother to the Colony Theater to see all the Elvis movies when I    was four. I was totally enthralled, unlike my younger brother, who used to crawl around the aisles,  and we could always see where he was, ‘cuz of the silhouettes of people who would jerk up when  there was a kid under their seat. Movies have always served as a major escape for me, wherein I would allow the big silver screen to suck me in and allow me to be a part of the action. It’s all about the heroes, no?

Elvis and John Wayne – how fucked up is that?

The Hills Have Eyes and I Need A Tissue

During Spring Break 2006 while the rest of the people at college were off in Cabo getting drunk and yelling “BRO!” every 1.5 minutes, I was in Ohio. I grew up there and it felt nice to be at home away from all the craziness of college life. By craziness I of course mean having my dumb friend Theresa fall asleep while  watching Shaun of the Dead, take THAT Asher Roth. I felt more like myself in Ohio, like I could relax. I hadn’t made many.. oh what do you call them, oh “friends” at college in that first semester. I attribute this to a failed relationship and a failed “hook up”.

I spent most of 1st semester crying in the shower with swim trunks on. I was dumped and I was devastated. Not only because I was in love, but because I literally had no idea how to talk to college girls. I didn’t understand that there is a certain level of forcefulness that women like. Taking charge wasn’t in my rolodex of moves. To me, everything that wasn’t clearly asked for or stated beforehand was rape. Girls like a guy in charge and the only thing I was in charge of was making sure my DVD collection was in alphabetical order. In spite of myself I found a girl that liked me a little. I liked her too, a lot. We went to high school together and seemed to be alike. We both had a love of movies and could name upwards of 600 Simpsons characters. The only problem was that I was going to school in New York and she was in school in Ohio. Facebook dating was in full effect.

Ritual

…I like to laugh

I think it’s known that I am obsessive and compulsive about my theater experiences. Yelling at projectionists, shushing teenagers and the occasional walk out due to unsatisfactory conditions are all routine. I have, since gaining a disgusting amount of weight, stopped with the large soda and popcorn but don’t think food is a necessity at the show, progress? I like to enjoy myself. I like it quiet during trailers. Even the shitty ones (Adjustment Bureau?).

I like to think that I am in my own little world. The keyword is ‘think’. It’s clear that I am not alone and this is no more clear than when going to see comedies. Let’s start by saying that I go through phases in my life; jnco jeans, Limp Bizkit, Zach Braff. They’re all pop culture and behavioral bookmarks that allow me to remember what I was at a certain age. As it turns out I also go through laugh phases. Little variances that I wish I could put into words.

Irreverent by Max Barth

I know this is supposed to be funny, and I’ll try and be funny, really, but I just have something I need to get off of my chest first. OK. Got it. Slightly salty. I think it was a piece of a pretzel. Back to the matter at hand:

Please permit me to wax nostalgic.  I miss a lot of things – the dogs I had growing up, my childhood home, when drummers used to smile. What I miss more than anything, though, is when comedy movies were reverent. Now everything has changed. It’s as if every comedy movie is the opposite of reverent. If only I could put it into words. Oh, wait, I can – and so can every lazy  critic/fan/blogger/advertiser this side of a place.