Kevin Smith Ruined My Life

Wanna know what movie ruined me? Not even a full movie, actually. Just a scene from a movie. A lot of people around my age may say something about Artax and Atreyu in the Swamp of Sadness. Some may mention a kid needing his glasses because he can’t see without his glasses. Might even get an Old Yeller shout out. But those scenes left us traumatized, not ruined.

The scene I’m going to tell you about didn’t traumatize me. It ruined me in that my expectations were set way too high by it. Specifically, it ruined depictions of love and romance for me. Lots of kids of my generation grew up buying into the Disney fairy tale bullshit, thinking they’d get a prince or a princess. I know I did. I’m not sure when we started to outgrow that fantasy, but I’m pretty sure I was the last to give up on it. [Author’s note: I haven’t really given up on it.] I was a romantic tween/teen; worse, I was boy crazy. If I hadn’t also been perpetually awkward, that might have led to some poor decisions. When I got into high school, I fell violently in love with Romeo and Juliet, a full two years before the Claire & Leo film came out. I was in love with the idea of love.

After the sappy and tragic films of my childhood, and other than the aforementioned R+J, I never wandered much into romantic films. I remember watching Dirty Dancing. I thought it was cute, but I didn’t buy it or re-rent it or anything. The premise of Pretty Woman didn’t sound interesting to me; I didn’t see that until my mid-20s. I’ve still never seen Sleepless in Seattle or My Best Friend’s Wedding. I am not shitting on these movies; I don’t believe in yucking other people’s yum, as a general rule. They’re just not for me.

A lot of my film tastes were (and remain) a little odd, so the romantic films I liked had a bit of a different spin to them. I deeply loved A Life Less Ordinary. Part of that was Ewan McGregor. I’ve loved him since Trainspotting and he’s just adorable in A Life Less Ordinary. The plot is that God sends angels to get specific people coupled up. The angels end up using some pretty nefarious means to achieve this goal. Plus, there’s karaoke, kidnapping, a game show, and one of Timothy Olyphant’s first film appearances. Check it out, if you’ve never seen it. It even has my favorite Tony Shalhoub scene of all time.

I was a massive fan of Untamed Heart with Marissa Tomei and Christian Slater. And ok, part of that was Christian Slater. In my defense, I’d been a fan since I saw The Legend of Billie Jean on cable when I was 9 or so. But oh my God, his character’s scared little boy attitude with the protective instincts of a mother bear? And the way she just… accepted this guy who looked at the world in a deeply weird way? That’s the kind of thing I dig.

Almost forgot Reality Bites. I guess that one was popular, but c’mon. It has extra hot and dirty 1990s Ethan Hawke. When Troy and Lelaina finally admit their feelings and hook up, best part is when the shift happens in Troy. In a single line, he goes from friendly support to vulnerable baby bird. Its kinda fucking magical.

My personal favorite romantic film is The Crow, which of course, was massive in the 1990s. I’m not sure how many people other than me consider that film a romance, even though it absolutely is. Man comes back from the dead to completely annihilate the people who violently raped and murdered the woman he loved. There is a huge amount of blood and violence in this film.  Yet, when Tin Tin refers to Shelly as a bitch, Eric slaps him. That one tiny gesture made such an impact on me at 14. Eric had crawled out of a grave to commit murder and avenge his girlfriend, but that doesn’t stop him from slapping a dude for simply disrespecting Shelly. It doesn’t get more romantic than that, not in the mind of the teenager I was at that age.

The romantic scene that ruined me was in a less goopy film than Untamed Heart, a more relatable film than Reality Bites, and a slightly less fantastical film than A Life Less Ordinary or The Crow. The scene that ruined me, got my hopes up way too high is from Kevin Smith’s Chasing Amy.

I was 17 or 18. My best friend had come out as a lesbian before the film, so I knew that a lesbian falling in love with a man was thoroughly fantasy, but there’s this honesty in that movie that resonated with me. (A discussion about whether or not Alyssa was bi or pan or something else entirely is an entirely different essay.) Also, I like my romance with dick and fart jokes. I’ve always been in the group of women who will get into all kinds of trouble for a funny person, and Kevin Smith films never fail to tickle me.

The specific scene I’m referring to, the one that directly led to my ruination, is when Holden stopped his car and started to tell Alyssa how he felt.

“I love you. Very, very simple, very truly. You are the-the epitome of everything I have ever looked for in another human being… I can't take this anymore. I can't stand next to you without wanting to hold you. I can't-I can't look into your eyes without feeling that-that longing you only read about in trashy romance novels. I can't talk to you without wanting to express my love for everything you are… I know that some part of you is hesitating for a moment, and if there's a moment of hesitation, then that means you feel something too. And all I ask, please, is that you just - you just not dismiss that, and try to dwell in it for just ten seconds. Alyssa, there isn't another soul on this fucking planet who has ever made me half the person I am when I'm with you, and I would risk this friendship… Because it is there between you and me. You can't deny that.” 

Maybe I love that monologue because I, too, am wordy as fuck. Maybe its because he tells her how he feels and then adds on how she makes him feel, which is really hot to me. Maybe its because I’ve read trashy romance novels, and I want to feel that longing, too.

And then, as if that wasn’t enough to give you chest pain, he follows her out of the car. Into the rain. The actual pouring rain! They share this kiss, like they’re going to wither away and disappear if they don’t kiss in that very instant. Oh my god did that ruin my whole fucking life.

I have been waiting for that moment. I was married and thought it would happen eventually. I’m currently writing this in the same room with my partner, and I adore this man. But I’m not convinced that a speech and a kiss like that will happen for me anymore.* That speech and that kiss are the most fantastical depiction of love and romance that I have ever seen. Even the argument at the hockey game and the final conflict feel more real. Hell, I’ve had similar arguments, and been offered similar proposals, and I’m no where near as cute as Joey Lauren Adams. It almost feels like I should sue Kevin Smith for giving me unrealistic expectations. The man ruined my life. I’d blame Affleck, but, as a writer, I blame the writer.

In my personal experience, it is highly unlikely that a cis-man is going to give such a long, eloquent speech to tell a woman exactly how and why he loves her. And even if he did, he wouldn’t kiss her like that after. Because we all know that the only guys who can kiss like that are line cooks with a minor drinking or drug problem who rent a house with four other dudes and sleep on a mattress on the floor. When a guy kisses you like that, you know you’re in trouble. When a guy kisses you like that, it feels like falling in love.

But I might not be the best person to listen to about love. My idea of a perfect pick up line is from another Kevin Smith film, Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back.

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*After some discussion, The Man Friend agreed that I’d never get to experience this feeling, if only because I’ve now been building that idea up in my head for 30 years. There’s no way my fantasy could ever be captured realistically. God love that man. He has such an eloquent way of dealing with my bullshit. That might be why he calls me Boo Boo Kitty Fuck.

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Eat Me

Daisy Edgar Jones and Sebastian Stan in Fresh

A few months back, Sebastian Stan said something that surprised me. He said he gets recognized for his character Steve in Fresh and that he didn’t understand the women and cannibals thing. I wasn’t sure how he couldn’t get it, and how he didn’t understand that the cannibalism was irrelevant. I tend to think of him as a man written by a woman, so his disbelief confused me. I figured if he didn’t get it, a bunch of folks probably didn’t get it. Allow me to explain.

Part of this is just Sebastian Stan. No matter how terrible a person he plays, Sebastian Stan is a great actor, and he’s also blessed enough to look the way he does. Sadly, we live in a world where sometimes folks get blinded by beauty and get the character and the actor confused. These people love Steve simply because he is played so well by an attractive actor.

Then you’ve got the folks who can’t get past the meet cute. It was perfectly played. Steve was charming and funny; Noa was cautious and hesitant. He never invades her personal space, he didn’t check to see if she had given him her actual number. When they go on their first date, he’s somehow even more charming, and clearly smitten. She ignores red flags (his lack of social media, his idea to take a weekend trip so soon into the relationship) because he has a reasonable explanation, and she likes him. But they’d decided not to play games, and he’s cute and charming, so Noa silences that alarm bell.

The fact that Steve is hot and has a really cute interaction with a woman isn’t enough to fascinate mobs of women. No. What really gets women going is deeper than those things, and it actually happens after we know what the nasty bastard is up to. You know, when the audience finds out he goes ass to mouth, quite literally.

Noa, starting to understand that Steve truly is interested in her, gets Steve to open up. She asks him personal questions, feigns interest. Steve starts to think maybe she genuinely likes him back. He brings her upstairs for dinner, and during that conversation, he opens up more. He talks about the first time he ate a person, and how alone he felt, how he thought he was a freak. Then he found a community and gained a bit of understanding. Noa, brilliant girl that she is, realizes his weakness. He actually likes her and wants to confide in her. If she pretends to be interested in Steve’s hobby, she might have a chance to get at him. He might let his guard down enough for her to get away from this psycho.

Steve “invites” Noa upstairs for dinner again, even giving her a dress to wear to make the evening feel fancy, romantic. During the second dinner, she coaxes him into opening up even more. He talks about the women he butchered before her, even showing Noa what amounts to his trophy case: where he keeps the belongings and pictures of the women he’s butchered and sent to the “one percent of the one percent.” The audience can see the fear and empathy for the women Steve brought here before her in her eyes, but Steve is only able to see Noa’s face. He doesn’t see anything besides her closely studying the trophy case. Steve opens up, and becomes even more infatuated with Noa, simply because she doesn’t react with horror or disgust.

Those are the moments that some women can’t let go of. When Steve opens up, admits to feeling misunderstood, outcast, we respond to that. He’s got this look on his face like he’s revealed his deepest, darkest secret, spoken it aloud for the first time. You can even see his fear that he’s saying too much. I’ll be damned if I didn’t respond to that with a little sympathy when I watched. Because that’s when he becomes vulnerable. Not just to Noa’s scheming, but in general, and we are so starved for masculine vulnerability, we can almost forgive fucking cannibalism.

Don’t believe me? I’ll give you another pop culture example. Vanessa Marianna and Wilson Fisk (Ayelet Zurer and Vincent D’Onofrio) in Season One of Daredevil. I mean, c’mon. Vanessa is an objectively beautiful woman. Wilson is not a conventionally attractive man. Further, he is a bit socially awkward, his sense of humor is barely existent, and he’s a brutally violent fucking murderer. Of course, Vanessa doesn’t know that last bit about him at first. But, she agrees to go out with him despite his awkwardness. Why?

Wilson charming Vanessa by being a vulnerable enigma.

Because when she approached Wilson to talk to him about the painting, he was emotionally unguarded and she immediately saw it. When she starts asking how the painting makes him feel, he answers without building his walls back up first. That moment is what leads her to agree to dinner with him. She is intrigued, and she wants to find out more.

Hell, on that date Vanessa talks about grand gestures men have made toward her and lovers from her past. Those relationships clearly didn’t work out, but Wilson proposes to Vanessa before the end of season one. He needs her, and she loves him, in part, because she knows that he would never do anything to hurt her, simply because he was vulnerable, and she accepted him. [This was clearly written a while ago. Doesn’t change that this was true in Season 1.]

Jesus, boys. Tell us your secrets. Tell us what hurt you in the past. Tell us about your bad day or the girl who broke your heart or how you really feel about your parents or the first girl you kissed. Just tell us something intimate and real about yourself. Do it while actually emoting. Show us how you feel. I’ve always heard men are visual creatures, but so are women. We want to see your joy, your tears, your fear, your honesty.  We want to see you geek out over something we care nothing about… except for the fact that you care for it, and we care for you.

Even if you don’t look like Bucky Barnes, we’re going to respond to that. Probably positively. Alas, there’s always a chance we’ll bite your cock off, especially if you’re a cannibal using us like a combination beef cow and side piece.

Oh yeah… Steve was also married. It makes me a bit concerned that Steve cheating bothers me more than all the murdering and butchering and cooking of humans. Look, y’all, cannibalism is undeniably bad, but I’m more likely to meet a cheater than a cannibal.

Soft Men

Pedro Pascal and Oscar Isaac via @pascalispunk

Give me all the soft men.

Give me all the men written by women.

I want construction workers who attend group therapy. I want truck drivers who hide their faces against their buddy’s shoulder during the climax of a horror movie. I want burly, biker-looking dudes who openly cry during Steel Magnolias or when they stub their pinky toe.

I want these things in cis-het men. I love my queer brothers, in part because so many have already embraced these things.

Let me go ahead and say: Yes. Men™ are the goddamn worst.* Ask anyone you know who is attracted to them, because even men will tell you that men are the goddamn worst. 

Fuck, though. They’re amazing. The tall ones. The short ones. The lumberjacks and the lumbersexuals. When you find one that embodies amazing characteristics and embraces their humanity, including the parts toxic masculinity says are bad… fucking breathtaking.

I’m not talking about the bare minimum that we beg men for every day. I’m not talking about a man who is a present father or who can manage himself. I’m not talking about a man who is emotionally mature and can find the clit with minimal instruction.

Give me men who put themselves in therapy. Give me men who respect all human beings. Give me men who exhibit empathy. Hell, give me men who can properly exhibit any emotion besides anger. Give me men who remember about that thing you said you wish you had in July and gives it to you for Christmas. Give me men who not only don’t argue about wearing a condom, but they also brought their fucking own.

Give me men who put themselves in therapy. Give me men who respect all human beings. Give me men who exhibit empathy. Hell, give me men who can properly exhibit any emotion besides anger. Give me men who remember about that thing you said you wish you had in July and gives it to you for Christmas. Give me men who not only don’t argue about wearing a condom, but they also brought their fucking own.

It is incredibly and indescribably sad to me that society crushes these things in boys and men. Because let’s be clear: Needing help processing emotions isn’t feminine. Being scared isn’t feminine. Crying, whether from physical or emotional pain, or from sadness, happiness, or just being overwhelmed isn’t feminine.

These things are HUMAN. And it is long past time for us to stop teaching boys and men to deny their humanity. Vulnerability isn’t the same as weakness; it is the possibility of weakness. And by expressing it, a person becomes stronger.

These things are HUMAN. And it is long past time for us to stop teaching boys and men to deny their humanity. Vulnerability isn’t the same as weakness; it is the possibility of weakness. And by expressing it, a person becomes stronger.

Give me all the vulnerable men.

*Yeah, yeah. Not all men.