My Boring-Ass Life (Revised Edition): The Uncomfortably Candid Diary of Kevin Smith (79 page)

I mean, I was able to find a
Variety
piece (entitled ‘DVD Spawns a New Star System’) pretty quickly, in which the author writes:

“Kevin Smith. Directors can have big DVD followings, too.
Jay & Silent Bob
sold $36 million on DVD after a moderate $30 million in theaters, which may explain why Smith has become a pitchman for Panasonic’s recordable DVD player.”

More recently, as regards
Clerks II
, the other industry Bible,
The Hollywood Reporter
, ran two pieces which described it as “a modest box office success” and “a nice piece of coin” for the Weinstein Company.

And even the much-maligned
Jersey Girl
, which is too-often described as a bomb, really only came up about ten million shy of its production budget in its box office run. Between the TV sale, the foreign sales, and especially, the DVD sales, that deficit was righted... and a profit was eked out.

If anything, with the last several films, I’ve ensured my career pretty well — both with the money people and the audience. I mean, he’s writing about
An Evening With Kevin Smith 2: Evening Harder
; you don’t get to a
2
if the first edition was met with ambivalence (indeed, doing a sequel to
Evening With
wasn’t even my idea; Columbia Tristar, chuffed with the 300,000-plus units they moved on the inexpensive-to-produce first incarnation, pulled the trigger on
Evening Harder
— just as they had on
Evening With
).

This isn’t the first time ol’ Roger has spent column space puzzling over why I haven’t been banished to movie jail or something. In this August piece talking about the horror movie I’m interested in shooting next year:

(
http://blogs.orlandosentinel.com/entertainment_movies_blog/2006/08/kevin_smith_wan.html
)

He mentions that I need to have a success in another genre if I am to escape the “ghetto” I am in. He also says that the budget of
Clerks II
was ten million.

First off, the
Clerks II
budget was five million, not ten (also an easily checked — and well-publicized — fact). Secondly, why does he consider my seven-film body of work a “ghetto”. The man implies that I shouldn’t be happy with what I’ve done; that I should be doing more. Why? Should HE be doing more than writing for the
Orlando Sentinel
? Like, say, writing for the
Washington Post
on a regular basis (a paper whose Jen Chaney managed to write about
Evening Harder
without looking down her nose at the audience)? No: he’s comfy writing for the
Sentinel
and being catty on his
Sentinel
-hosted blog. Why, then, am I somehow not living up to my potential by working comfortably in MY little corner of cinema?

But the closing line of advice in his fan-slamming blog really blows my mind. He advises me to stop wasting my time with fans who already like me, and will buy my latest DVD anyway.

Setting aside the cynical notion that keeping in touch with the audience is all about a quick buck (or even a slow buck) for me, what the fuck is this dude saying? I should be reaching for a different audience than the one that’s supported me and my work for a dozen years now? Why? Doesn’t every filmmaker play to their audience? Doesn’t Spielberg play to his audience? Granted, his audience pushes his flicks to 300 million while mine push my flicks to a tenth of that (at best); but, shit — I’m happy there’s one person watching what I do, let alone a few million. And in terms of the folks who dig what we do at View Askew, I’ve met many of you, and you’re all really cool, really wonderful people. Why should I be courting an entirely different audience, as Roger chides? If I’m happy with my audience, what the fuck’s Roger Moore’s problem with that?

Ask him yourself at
[email protected]

Meantime, if you’re one of those t-shirt wearing, dead-end job having, parents’-basement-dwelling cats that Roger poo-poos, you might wanna join us for the signing at the LA Secret Stash, on Tuesday...

Just remember: the last signing we had (on the east coast) was a fourteen-hour affair.

So if you’re not into crowds, you can simply order Roger’s favorite DVD online...

(Mention “Roger Moore sent me” and receive a FREE GIFT!)

Roger Moore. The retarded one.

So Roger responded in his blog, now no longer dancing around the topic and instead just flat-out calling folks who’re into what I do “losers”...

Read it here:

http://blogs.orlandosentinel.com/entertainment_movies_blog/2006/11/oh_to_be_pellet.html

And for a guy who looks down on “fan-folks”, he proves he’s about as clever as the biggest AICN Talkback troll by including an image of Comic Book Guy from
The Simpsons
— either to represent me or you. This coming from a guy who carps about movies for a living. Give a few of his negative reviews a read and tell me you can’t hear “worst movie ever” in your head.

According to his bio, he studied journalism at Radford University, where he wrote film reviews for the college radio station, just like Pauline Kael had when she started out.

And the Pauline Kael comparisons begin and end there. Kael was a master with words and cinema deconstruction. Roger’s a wannabe, cracking wise in a paper with a circulation of about 220,000 (perhaps the paper’s recent drop in circulation has less to do with hotel distribution drying up and more to do with an audience that thinks their paper’s film critic is fucking hapless). In sheer numbers, that means more people will read this blog than will read any one of Roger’s reviews. But, y’know — my “rep” and “hip cachet” are “dwindling”, so what do I know?

This non-entity (who’s, no doubt, now doing cartwheels over the notion that someone... ANYONE... is writing/thinking about him, thanks to my blog) is just pissed and jealous that he’s never been asked to sit in on
Ebert and Roeper
once, let alone three times (I’m heading back to Chicago this week to co-host their annual ‘Worst Of’ show — consistently the highest-rated episode of the year). You don’t get invited back unless the reaction from the audience is favorable (thank you “adoring masses”..

As for his claim that he hasn’t received that many hate emails, well, that’s because they’re all over at the MySpace posting of the blog, Rog. Click on that for 500 responses from all these “losers” you love to shit on.

Thirdly, when folks refer to someone else’s “hip cachet”... that’s a pretty clear indicator that they’re not the person who should be passing judgment on said subject. It’s like those people who will insist to you: “Me and my friends are crazy, man! We do crazy shit all the time! We’re nuts!” If you’re telling people you’re wild, then you’re not wild. If you’re telling people that someone else is losing their “hip cachet”, you have no clue what “hip” is or isn’t. Case in point: last year,
TV
fucking
Guide
also told me I was losing my “hip cachet”. And
TV Guide
’s about as far from the cutting edge as you can get. So with two lame outlets like
TV Guide
and ‘Frankly My Dear’ insisting I’m not hip... well, that instantly makes me hip, doesn’t it?

And, really? Who gives a shit about hip-ness anymore anyway? Even the notion of “hip” isn’t hip anymore. What decade is McFly here writing in, for Christ’s sake? Hey, Rog: like Kael, the seventies are gone, sir — stop writing like we’re still in the midst of them.

Roger writes that he’s found my ‘real’ work disappointing recently. He’s talking about my films. And that’s fine; taste is subjective (besides, on the last flick, he was in the minority). Honestly, Roger liking or not liking my films means shit-all to me (our Orlando per screen average for
Clerks II
was unaffected by his ram-blings); it’s the disdain with which he treats my audience that kills me. It’s one thing to dismiss people because they wear t-shirts; as fucking strange (and “square”, to work with terms Roger might be more comfortable using) as that may be (I mean, what’s this guy think they sell in the fucking Gap? Tux jackets?), it says more about Roger (“I don’t wear t-shirts... ever!”. than the people he’s coming down on. But to insist you all have dead-end jobs and live in your parents’ basements just because you’re fans of mine? I mean, what a snobby thing to write.

Does Janet Maslin have a dead-end job?

How about the previously mentioned Andrew Sarris (a guy who very generously — and very foolishly — pegged me as “the next Scorsese”.?

Those are two of the most influential and respected film critics of the last twenty years or more. They’re fans. Are they “losers” as well, Roger?

(And for the record, both Maslin and Sarris have Wikipedia entries; at press time, Roger doesn’t — though I’m sure he’ll correct that immediately).

This is a dude who’d like people to believe I’m ending (or over).

The
L.A. Times
doesn’t seem to think so.

Neither does the
Washington Post
(in its positive review for
Evening Harder
).

But, hey — the guy from the
Orlando Sentinel
wrote it, so it must be true.

Cheer up, Rog — now you know at least one person reads your stupid-ass blog. You can finally silence that nagging little voice that grips you as you post each new entry (hand quivering atop your mouse), saying “Why bother? Nobody’s reading. Nobody knows who the fuck I am. I’m working in a vacuum. Pauline Kael I ain’t. Shit, I’m not even Earl Dittman. Is there anybody out there for me and my two-bit opinions?”

That’d be me, “hip”.ster. That’d be me.

Apparently, less IS more

Monday 27 November 2006 @ 7:20 p.m.

During the
Clerks II
theatrical release, I was supposed to do one of those iTunes Celebrity Playlists; y’know — the collection of songs choices and (brief) explanations for their inclusion that give us an insight into what, say, Minnie Driver likes to rock out to.

(Yes, rather than the myriad other well-known folks who’ve done an iTunes Celebrity Playlist, I dropped a Minnie Driver reference on your asses — because A) I remember reading her list, years back, with great interest, and B) because Minnie Driver doesn’t get name-dropped nearly enough, as far as I’m concerned. Is there anyone out there who’d disagree with the fact that the chick was genius in
Grosse Pointe Blank
? For that performance alone, she deserves more shout-outs.)

Sadly, at the time, I was in the midst of a press tour, and I didn’t feel like I had strong enough intervals in which to do a playlist justice. I mean, while folks like to use the Celebrity Playlist as a promotional device, I can’t approach it as lightly. Putting together a playlist is incredibly personal and lays the author naked. It’s the modern day equivalent of making a mix tape for someone you’re crushing on: you run as much risk of winning her/his heart as you do firmly ensconcing yourself on their ‘Avoid At All Costs’ manifest. So I declined to submit one at that point, asking to be considered again at some future date, when I wasn’t flying from city to city and doing ten hours or more of press a day.

Cut to three weeks ago, when — as another promotional vehicle for the
Clerks II
DVD — I was afforded a second bite at the iTunes apple (pun intended). With a more comfortable alottment of hours to lavish on crafting a playlist and honest explanations for track inclusions beyond “Because this song rocks”, I buried myself in my iTunes library, culling through ten thousand plus tracks, searching for the songs that’d represent my ‘desert island’ choices. A day later, I submitted it to the publicity folks at Genius (the home video label of the Weinstein Company).

Two days later, shit went south.

“This is a great playlist,” Darin from Apple wrote. “Too great, actually. We don’t have the space for comments that run that long. Will he be OK with us editing them (significantly) or would he prefer to do that himself? Two sentences for each track is a good outline.”

Pam’s follow-up email, while flattering, was little help: “My contact (at Apple) said he’s never had this problem before. He shared that usually he receives playlists that don’t include any comments. He said yours is the best they’ve ever received and he wishes they could make it work.”

But the idea of trimming down (significantly, apparently) that Rorschach of the Soul known as the Celebrity Playlist didn’t interest me. So with no hard feelings on either behalf, I declined inclusion.

And here we are.

The lesson in all of this: never ask a fat non-celeb with over-compensation issues that stem from having a little cock and too much lard hanging from every appendage (except the aforementioned cock) to do a Celebrity Playlist.

As a firm believer in the “manufacture for use” principle, I now present you with my aborted (non) Celebrity Playlist:

Track: ‘Cold Sweat’ (Live 1968/Dallas Memorial Auditorium), Artist: James Brown, Album:
Say It Live and Loud: Live in Dallas 08.26.68

This is James Brown doing his best Eddie-Murphy-Doing-James-Brown impression nearly twenty years in advance of Eddie Murphy actually doing any James Brown impression. It’s one of the greatest live recordings of a single in history, and with a running time of twelve minutes and fifty-one seconds, you’d be hard pressed to find a better bargain for ninety-nine cents on iTunes. It’s like getting four songs for the price of one! If you act now, we’ll throw in a set of steak knives.

Track: ‘Unsent’, Artist: Alanis Morissette, Album:
Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie

I love songs about loss and the road not traveled, and I love Alanis Morissette, so this track is right up my alley. This chick sings her guts out, but more than that, she’s an awesome, almost cinematic writer: you can practically “see” the story she’s singing. And, my God, you can certainly feel it: if you don’t identify with her regret in some small way when she belts out the line “What was wroooooong with meeeeeeee?” you’re a goddamned robot. This song feels like the woman stole pages out of a diary I forgot to keep, so personally do the lyrics punch me in my fat gut. We’ve all got a heartbreaking letter like this in us somewhere; mercifully, Ms. Morissette wrote it for us so we don’t have to self-examine too closely.