who dat? contest:

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"i know"

yesterday's results:

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paul giamatti
private parts, the negotiator

pamie was the first to get it right

celebrity interview: Ethan Hawke

As my last interview with Samantha Mathis was so successful, I decided to make this a continuing series. Getting busy celebrities to agree to sit down with me is difficult, but I know this girl who knows this guy who has this ex who used to work for the friend of a personal manager and after a week of cajoling and finally blackmail, I now have an in to a good number of celebrities.

I sit on a large rock in the hills near the Hollywood sign because it is a place of dreams, Hollywood, and what better symbol of the dream than the sign that brings them one and all to the star-machine that is LA, symbolized by the sign under which I sit on a rock, waiting. And trudging up the hill wearing ripped jeans and a Prada shirt comes Ethan Hawke. Ethan Hawke is a total tool, but he’s the best I could get on such short notice.

ME: Bro?
ME: So, thanks for coming out. You don’t mind if I record this, do you?
EH: Like opposed to writing longhand. (laughs)
ME: (pause) Whatever. So Ethan, what’s it like to have sex with Uma Thurman.
EH: Uma is great. She’s so talented and is turning out to be a really great mother-
ME: Shut yo’ mouth.
EH: Huh?
ME: Like the old funk songs. Someone says, "she’s stacked like a motherfucker" and someone else busts in all, "shut yo’ mouth!" Cutting off the swear word.
EH: Oh. Anyway, listen, I really don’t want to talk about my personal life.
ME: OK. Let’s move on. Gattaca. What happened?
EH: Gattaca was very slick and beautiful, but I think people ignored the deep social impact of a future in which genetics can be controlled.
ME: Mystery Date. What happened?
EH: I don’t think the world was ready for such a multi-layered examination of the Byzantine mating rituals of our species.
ME: The Newton Boys. What happened?
EH: That was Skeet Ulrich’s fault.
ME: You wrote a novel called The Hottest State.
EH: Yeah. It had been brewing in my mind for a long time. I have so much to express, you know, like on the inside. And my theatre company and my film work just wasn’t giving it to me. So I pulled out my old typewriter and sat on the floor drinking scotch. You know, like Faulkner or Hemmingway. Just an artist and the blank page. It’s the ultimate battle. Like a bullfight. I clickity-clacked away for days on end. Breaking only to take walks in the rain down on the Lower-East side.
ME: Romantic and shit.
EH: Gritty. And the piece was all inside me, man. Once I got started it practically wrote itself.
ME: Apparently. Let me read you something: "Hawke's mercifully brief story is really an extended hissy fit…" "This clumsily written novel…".
EH: Jealous.
ME: Yeah, the New York Times is so jealous of you. Wait, this one is positive – the spelling errors are not mine by the way: "I love that William is this honest and confussed young man who goes crazy over Sarah. William is very poetic by the writing Ethan protrays as he resites lines from plays. One line that William says to Sarah is ‘You're fucking beautiful’ is one of my favourite lines, because he admits the truth and he's not using a cliche, as most man do. For instance most man say, ‘You're the most beautifulest woman I have ever set eyes on’ it's very common and yet it just sounds like a pick-up line."
EH: See, that’s good! Who’s that one from?
ME: "A reader in Ontario". From the Amazon.com comments section.
EH: Oh. Uh, cool. The people have spoken.
ME: I agree with the review. When I like a girl, I usually say "You’re the most beautifulest woman I have ever set eyes on", but it’s just so cliche. Everyone says that. Whereas you take the risky route. You say, "You’re fucking beautiful." On what foggy, angst-filled night did you stumble across that kind of inspiration, Ethan.
EH: I know, it really says it, doesn’t it. Well, I had the character just saying, "You’re beautiful".
ME: No impact whatsoever.
EH: I know, huh? And then it hit me: "fucking" is such a passionate word. So full. And why not put them together, you know. Like a sucker-punch to the gut.
ME: Yeah. Hard hitting. Here’s one more from Amazon: "Someone Help, the written word is in serious trouble. I confess, I bought this book only because I enjoyed the films Gattaca and Great Expectations. Ethan Hawke is a fine actor, but he cannot write! His characters are sloppy and immature, especially William, the main character. All William does is sit around and break household appliances."
EH: I don’t write for the adults, bro. I don’t expect them to remember what it’s like to be young and talented and in this like existential dilemma.
ME: I’m not done, "I am 14 and I can figure this out this book sucks."
EH: Oh. (pause) Jealous.
ME: I see. How is Uma Thurman in bed?
EH: I’m not going to talk about that.

(We sit in silence for a minute.)

ME: I had a dream about you a few years ago.
EH: Really. I totally believe in dreams. I read a lot of dream manuals.
ME: I dreamt that you stole my kitten.
EH: Hm.
ME: And then you turned into a monkey and exploded.
EH: Wow.
ME: Yeah. That would make a good movie.
EH: Totally.
ME: You know that me and Todd almost kicked your ass once?
EH: Really?
ME: Yeah. We went a Bogosian show in New York and you were there and we were all laughing at you, right? And Todd offered me 50 bucks if I lured you into an alley after the show and helped kick your ass.
EH: I’m glad you didn’t. I’m a lover not-
ME: There was this other time at the Wetlands club downtown, and you made out with my friend’s girlfriend, and he was seriously about to kick your ass.
EH: I’m sure I didn’t know she was going out with someone. What was her name?
ME: There was this other time you lived in my girlfriend’s building, and we rode the elevator together, and you were reading an issue of GQ and you had it opened to a photo spread of you – totally holding it so I would see it and think you’re cool.
EH: Do you?
ME: Yeah, kinda. Um, do you think I’m cool?
EH: Sure, bro.
ME: Really?
EH: Yeah man. Totally.
ME: Cool. (I hand Ethan a manila envelope.)
EH: What’s this?
ME: It’s my headshot and resume. I was wondering if you could maybe pass it on to your agent. Your "team", in Hollywood lingo.
EH: Um.
ME: I’m really good.
EH: Yeah, I’m sure.
ME: You think maybe there’s anything in Snow Falling on Cedars, or the Hamlet update you’re doing?
EH: Those are in the can.
ME: Do you think there’s anything in them for me maybe?
EH: We shot them already.
ME: A small part, whatever. A line or two?
EH: Yeah, I’ll look into it.
ME: I do a really good Irish accent. Listen: Liam. Liam. Let’s go lift a pint er two down at the pub.
EH: Wild.
ME: And Russian. Boris, vould you like some wodka?
EH: Great. You rock.
ME: Thanks. I really enjoyed you in Alive. That shit was funny.
EH: Alive?
ME: Yeah man. Laughed my ass off. (I get up and turn around.) See, no ass. Ha!
EH: Alive. With the cannibalism?
ME: Yeah. "Pretend it’s chicken, dude." Shit. See, we’re riffing. I think we’ll work really well together.
EH: Sure man. That’s cool. I should go. One last question.
ME: OK. What’s is like to sleep with Uma Thurman? (laughing loudly) Get it… cuz you were like "I’m not going to talk about it" and I’m like asking anyway. And three times cuz comedy comes in threes. Damn, we’re funny together.
EH: Later.
ME: Peace, bro.

Ethan Hawke is a hell of a nice guy and a damn fine actor. Probably the best actor of his generation. If not ever.

This is where I let Larry King take over my body for a few minutes.

Spent this weekend yet again in the editing room. Starting to show it to select people for feedback…Bowfinger disappointed me only in that it didn’t quite live up to the hype. But there is much to recommend it, especially that toe-sucker Eddie Murphy. It’s his best work in eons…Gum is making a big comeback in my life…Sometimes I worry that one of my relatives will stumble across this journal, but then I remember none of them can read…

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