My Boring-Ass Life (Revised Edition): The Uncomfortably Candid Diary of Kevin Smith (88 page)

In 2001, George did me a solid when he accepted the part of the orally fixated hitchhiker who knew exactly how to get a ride in
Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back
. When he wrapped his scene in that flick, I thanked him for making the time, and he said, “Just do me a favor: Write me my dream role one day.” When I inquired what that’d be, he offered, “I wanna play a priest who strangles children.”

It was a classic Carlin thing to say: a little naughty and a lot honest. I always figured there’d be time to give George what he asked for. Unfortunately, he left too soon.

He was, and will likely remain, the smartest person I’ve ever met. But really, he was much more than just a person. Without a hint of hyperbole, I can say he was a god, a god who cussed.

G’bye for now, Boss. I hope you were wrong about the afterlife — if only so that I can shoot the shit with you again one day.

Courtesy of Peter Sciretta over at
SlashFilm.com
, I caught an early screening of
The Dark Knight
yesterday evening.

Without giving anything away, this is an epic film (and trust me: based on the sheer size and scope of the visuals and storytelling, that’s not an overstatement). It’s the
Godfather II
of comic book films and three times more earnest than
Batman Begins
(and fuck, was that an earnest film). Easily the most adult comic book film ever made. Heath Ledger didn’t so much give a performance as he disappeared completely into the role; I know I’m not the first to suggest this, but he’ll likely get at least an Oscar nod (if not the win) for Best Supporting Actor. Fucking flick’s nearly three hours long and only leaves you wanting more (in a great way). I can’t imagine anyone being disappointed by it. Nolan and crew have created something close to a masterpiece.

Also in the Masterpiece Department... If you haven’t already peeped
Wall-E
, get thee to a theater. It’s the ballsiest animated film ever made (right up there with
Persepolis
, in terms of untraditional cartoons), yet it’ll melt your heart. Seriously — Wall-E’s so adorable, he makes E.T. look like Josef Mengele. Alright, maybe not Mengele, but at least Rudolf Hess. Y’know what? Let’s drop the Nazi comparisons altogether and just leave it at this: Wall-E (the character) is adorable and
Wall-E
(the film) is a must-see.

In the Far-Less-Than-a-Masterpiece department,
Zack and Miri Make a Porno
continues to move ever closer to its October 31st release date. We tested again in Albuquerque, New Mexico last week (where I did, in fact, make a left turn I knew I shouldn’t have made), and scored almost exactly the same as we did in the Kansas City test screening the month before — which is to say really, really well. A poster and a theatrical trailer should be making their way to theaters soon (the online teaser we posted a few weeks back met with an early demise).

I put on a shitload of weight during the
Zack and Miri
shoot and have only just recently started to take it off. Been on a diet for the last four weeks and have already dropped twenty five pounds, with many, many more tons to go. By the
Zack and Miri
premiere in October, I hope to look almost human again.

NC17 No More

Friday August 15 2008 @ 1:01 p.m.

At an appeals screening last week, we were able to overturn the MPAA’s NC17 rating for
Zack and Miri Make a Porno
to a more audience-friendly R without making any cuts...

All that really means is that what you see in theaters will be exactly what we were hoping to show you in theaters. None of this waiting around for the unrated DVD shit.

I saw
Watchmen
. It’s fucking astounding. The Non-Disclosure Agreement I signed prevents me from saying much, but I can spout the following with complete joygasmic enthusiasm: Snyder and Co. have pulled it off.

Remember that feeling of watching
Sin City
on the big screen and being blown away by what a faithful translation of the source material it was, in terms of both content and visuals? Triple that, and you’ll come close to watching
Watchmen
. Even Alan Moore might be surprised at how close the movie is to the book. March can’t come soon enough.

Soon, there will be “Porno”

Tuesday October 14 2008 @ 3:53 p.m.

We’re inching ever closer to that October 31st release date, folks. I’m doing
The Tonight Show
Friday, then the junket all weekend, and the premiere on Monday the 20th at Grauman’s Chinese Theater. After that, I head east for some Devils’ games and a NY premiere at CMJ on the 23rd, then a homecoming of sorts in Pittsburgh, where we’ll debut the flick we shot there last winter. Then, back home for release week.

Getting excited. I’ve seen a slew of bus stop ads and billboards... TV spots are starting to run a bunch, too.

Seth and I are on the cover of
Complex
magazine this month... Fuck, I wish I was still as thin as I am on that cover. I’ve porked the fuck out, man. I’m really, really fat right now. Fattest I’ve ever been. But as soon as this flick’s out, I’m
taking my life back; gonna drop out of sight and drop a bunch of pounds. It’s the deal I’ve made with myself. Just gotta make it through the next two and half weeks of press and running around.

Big month around here. Hope ya’ll can come out and support the flick. Then, come November 1st, if you see me with any junk food in my hand, you are entitled to kick me in the ass. If I’m sitting, remind me I have to comply; I will stand and allow for one free kick.

Carnegie Thrall

Wednesday May 6 2009 @ 8:07 am

For me, the best part of the Carnegie Hall gig already happened.

It was a quiet moment when I first found out I’d been booked to do my Q&A shtick on that venerable stage, long before the public knew anything about it. That was bliss. I’d never dreamed about playing Carnegie Hall because... well, I’ve never done anything remotely Carnegie-worthy. Oh, sure — when I was eighteen, I could bend and twist just enough to reach the tip of my cock with my tongue. But while I haven’t read every book written on the subject of that legendary performance space, I’m relatively sure self-sucking live on stage wouldn’t be considered very Carnegie-worthy either.

(Bullshit, I say. I submit that breaking one off in your own pie-hole may be more Carnegie-worthy than anything else for which anyone’s ever taken a bow at 57th and 7th. Think about it: not everyone can do it — and isn’t that why we go to the theater/movies/sporting events/opera? To see people do what we, ourselves, cannot? And if you’re one of those guys who’s worried the homophobic public will cluck their disapproving tongues once people get wind of your viewing habits, you can always insist you’re intently peeping another dude hose down his own tonsils solely as research.)

So the best moment of the gig already happened. The next best moment won’t happen ‘til I’m actually on stage at Carnegie Hall on June 17th (and depending on the crowd that night, it could wind up superseding the aforementioned Best Moment).

But between now and then, I will wake up every morning, praying to Jesus that the show sells out.

Here’s the thing: playing Carnegie Hall rocks, yes; it’s an honor. In this instance, it’s even mind-bending to some degree, as I’m not talented at all. But selling out Carnegie Hall? Now there’s a challenge.

I know me: every morning until June 17th, I’ll wring my hands over whether or not I’m gonna be able to sell out that beastly barn. Because years from now, when I’m telling a Grandkid that I played Carnegie Hall, I know the next thing out of the mouth of that black-oil-eyed alien hybrid from the future will be “Was it sold out, Earth Grampa?” And before I shiv him with that silver spike, I wanna be able to tell him “Yeah, kid — I sold out Carnegie Hall. Now lemme see the back of your neck...”

I’ve got a few factors working against me. Back in November, I did a show at the Count Basie in Red Bank, and then another Jersey gig at the Bergen Pac Center four months later (there were Ohio and Connecticut shows in the last few months, too). The chances of rallying those auds for the Carnegie gig are bleak: most Garden Staters don’t wanna go into Manhattan for any reason, let alone to see a fat, bearded, sweaty ‘tard they just saw mere months back for cheaper.

I can’t count on Canada to save my ass this time either. Between the two shows at Toronto’s Roy Thomson Hall and three nights of mini-q&a’s after the Bloor’s Kevin Smith Fest I put nearly 10,000 Canuck “bums” (or Ontari-asses) in seats back in February. It was a point of pride then, but now it just means 10,000 less potential hardcores for the Carnegie gig. And while firmly in line with other Carnegie event prices, the “Evening With” ticket price still offers far costlier seats than anyone in their right mind should have to part with to see me — especially in a weak economy.

So what’s this all mean? Well, like everything else in my life (except my true weight), in order for it to be real, I’ve gotta share it with a bunch of strangers. I’ve told you about the time I got so heavy that I broke a toilet. I’ve told you about my anal fissure. I told you when I had unprotected sex during a one-night stand with a total stranger while sporting an open-wound on my dork (don’t worry: I married her later). So why wouldn’t I share this latest nail-biter?

Lemme break down the numbers for you...

Carnegie Hall Capacity: 2804

Comps/Press/House Seats: -300

Tickets to Sell: 2504

2504. Seems huge, doesn’t it? Granted, Roy Thomson seats more — and I sold that out four times (two shows back-to-back). But that’s not a fair comparison; for whatever reason (I love hockey, worship Gretzky, and have been on Degrassi), they really like me in Toronto. And while I’ve got some peeps down here in the tri-state area who may enjoy my bullshit from time to time, they’ve had ample opportunity to see me stalk (and sweat all over) the stage the last six months.

“Then why schedule the Carnegie Hall gig now,” you’re probably asking. “Why not wait ‘til you’ve been out of circulation on the east coast q&a circuit for a year, then schedule a Carnegie Hall gig, ya’ dim irritant from the mid-90s?” In this instance, it doesn’t work like that. Jared and David (the show’s producers) were lucky to get me any date (I mean, it’s Carnegie fucking Hall, not the Elks Lodge Hall in North Middletown). With The Hall, you take what you can get, and what we got was this looming June date.

So 2504 people will fill the place, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to sell it out. And every day, the uncertainty will haunt me. But why should I sweat it out alone? From now on, every morning on my Twitter page (@thatkevin-smith), I’ll keep you updated with the daily sales numbers I’m fed. That way, I won’t be alone in fretting over whether I’m even relevant anymore.

Image is built on perception, and perception can be governed by whoever has the most information. Based on that, common sense would dictate that I NOT share sales info with the general public, as some jackass may try to spin the numbers into something negative. But I’ve never been known for exhibiting a rat’s asshole full of common sense.

Giving out this info is like posting a naked picture of myself: the potential for something positive coming out of such an exercise is pretty slim (ironically). But you can’t live like a puss-hole your entire life, y’know? Sometimes it’s best to throw your hat over the wall, and commit to finding a way to get it back.

I can year you now: “Nut up already, Fatty! Whip it out! You certainly have no problem letting anyone with an eye or ear know when you’ve sold out a gig!” We’re getting there, but first, some further Disclaimers: I used only Twitter (and my website) to announce the gig/sales info. Aside from an ad in
The Onion
, we haven’t advertised at all yet (though a bunch of friendly movie sites — CinemaBlend, Cinematical, slashfilm, JoBlo, etc — helped spread the word).

Tickets went on sale April 16. Sales results after twenty days, as of Wednesday, May 6...

Tickets to Sell: 2504

Tickets Sold: -1260

Tickets Left to Sell: 1244

1260 tickets sold thus far (mostly in the pricey seats, oddly). That’s something to be proud of, sure. But the first 1000 was always gonna be the easiest, right? Now the daily sales report reads “11 tickets sold” or “6 tickets sold” or “18 tickets sold.” It’s a gut-wrenching game of inches now, and moving the next 1000 tickets has gotta be akin to finding my dick under my gut (as well as my gut’s gut): trying and humbling.

We’re just over halfway from selling out. But it’s a strong start – and I’ve still got plenty of time (a month and change) to fill Carnegie Hall. Can it happen? I guess we’re gonna see together.

Fuck, I wish I was still eighteen and limber...

Twitter @thatkevinsmith

10:28 PM Jun 17th

I’m up to 875 “You killed at Carnegie” Tweets. Many thanks for all the kind words. And thank you, especially, for making it A SOLD OUT SHOW!

A throwaway gag that never fails to induce a smile can be found nestled in the middle of Cameron Crowe’s 70’s-set study in celebrity,
Almost Famous
: Jimmy Fallon’s slick corporate manager Dennis Hope bursts into the lives of Stillwater — the rockers on the verge of
Rolling Stone
coverdom — to take the reins from the band’s longtime buddy-manager, since the band is, as the title suggests, almost famous at this stage in their recording careers. They’re about to enter the big time, and Fallon’s character’s assessment is that big time talent needs big time management. While trying to impress upon the band the importance of having an experienced representative steering the ship, he prognosticates a dark day in pop music: “... If you think Mick Jagger’ll still be out there, trying to be a rock star at age fifty, you’re sadly, sadly mistaken.”

The gag works, of course, because we in the present know that — even as you read this — Mick Jagger is probably on or near a stage somewhere, on the cusp of busting into his patented chicken-strut... and he hasn’t been fifty in a
long
time. But that’s what hindsight humor can do for a gag: use what we know
now
to make fun of innocence from
then
.