It's very rare that you're able to experience something so fascinatingly bizarre but I believe it's also inevitable for each and every one of us. You can't force this experience. Rather, it will happen when you least expect it. Tonight, it happened for me. Tonight was my lucky night...
Monday night. 8:55pm. Local library. Second floor.
I've been quietly working on my laptop for the past hour or so. The announcement that the library's closing came on the loudspeaker just a few minutes ago. "The library will be closing in ten minutes. Please bring any checkout items to the front desk."
I'm packing up my laptop now. Wrapping the cord around my mouse. Removing my computer glasses and replacing them with my regular glasses.
I see the librarian making the rounds. She checks the tables. Pushes in chairs. Picks up any scraps of paper or other litter. It's obvious I'm packing up so she doesn't feel there's any need to tell me they're closing soon.
However, there is a man about four or five tables down from me. Also working on his laptop. Little bit on the older side, maybe in his 60s or so. Looks normal as far as I can tell.In fact, I had determined about 30 minutes ago that he looked so normal that it was safe for me to leave my laptop alone at my table while I ran to the bathroom to do a pee. So that's pretty normal. That's I-feel-it's-safe-to-leave-my-laptop-alone-with-this-guy-nearby normal.
The man, however, is not "packing up shop", so to speak. He continues to work on his laptop while the librarian is pushing in chairs left and right, dropping hint after hint that it's closing time. But this guy's not budging.
By this time, the librarian has determined that this man needs a friendly reminder that the library is closing in less than five minutes.
"Sir, just so you know, we're closing in five minutes..."
But the man does not respond. Nor does he acknowledge her. All he does is stare into his laptop and (seemingly) continue to do his work.
"Sir," she says louder. "We're closing soon."
The man still doesn't budge and doesn't look at her or even acknowledge he heard her in the least.
"Excuse me...Sir! We're closing."
Still, no response or acknowledgment of any kind.
I hear what's going on and grow concerned. What the fuck is happening down there?
"Excuse me! Hello! Sir! We're closing!"
Still, not even a flinch on his part. Not even a raise of the eyebrow or any other subtle gesture. Utterly nothing.
I take a more careful look and see that this man is not wearing headphones. And he does not appear to be a foreigner who may speak another language. But even if he does speak a different language, he would still acknowledge the librarian who's now standing smack-dab in front of him with her hands on her hips, practically shouting into his face.
"Hello! Sir! We're closing! Hello!"
And this bizarre exchange proceeds for the next minute or even two.
"Sir! Closing time! Hello!"
I stand at my table for a moment. Dumbfounded. This is happening, I tell myself. This is really happening right now. I look around to see if anybody else is witnessing this. But, no, it's only the three of us alone on the second floor.
I determine that this man must either be insane or he must be the most gigantic asshole who ever lived on the planet. My instincts tell me it's the latter that's true.
I swing my laptop bag over my shoulder, pretend like I'm leaving but then sneak down an aisle of books that allows me to get closer to the alleged asshole without being seen. I'm not sure if this librarian will need my help. My heart starts racing. Is the shit about to go down right now? Maybe every day of my life has been leading to this very moment. Maybe this guy IS a psycho and I'm supposed to save the librarian from him. Maybe this is why I'm living. Maybe this is why I exist. I'm about to take my glasses off so I can fight without them being on my mind. They cost 300 bucks, after all. I don't want them damaged.
"Sir! Hello! Sir! Hello!!!"
I post myself behind a shelf of books. About as close as I can get without being seen. I'm ready to pounce if needed.
"Closing time!!! Hello!!!"
And, then, there is nothing but silence.
I creep around the bookshelf and see that the man is finally starting to pack up shop. He's putting his laptop away. And his mouse. There's also a half-drunken bottle of Pepsi Zero, which I hadn't seen from my previous vantage point. As for the librarian, I don't see where she went.
I figure it's safe to leave now.
As I'm about to descend the stairs, down to the first floor, I see the librarian circling back towards me. We lock eyes and I say...
"What was that all about?"
She shakes her head and says:"I don't know."
And that is that. No further discussion. No further questions.
I exit the library, emerge into the dark parking lot and realize I had just witnessed something very bizarre, perhaps one of the most bizarre things I had ever witnessed. What was that man's deal? Was he so narcissistic that he thought the library should only close when he's ready to leave? What did he think he could accomplish by ignoring the librarian? Maybe he got off on being the biggest asshole on the planet, to women, or just in general. Maybe that was his only motive: being an asshole and enjoying it.
I want to wait for this man to come out of the library and study his habits. Maybe follow him home. To see if he lives alone somewhere or with a family. I want to know what makes this gigantic asshole tick. I want to observe him for a week. I figure an asshole so gigantic must live in a miserable world of hell. I want to see this hell. I'm curious. More importantly, I want to know how often he drinks Pepsi Zero. Perhaps the sugar substitutes could be causing toxicity of the brain, which would account for him being the most gigantic of assholes.
I end up driving off, however, without waiting. Because I'm still not sure if what I had witnessed even happened. I'm still shaking a bit from the adrenaline as I pull out of the parking lot. I realize that I may never witness something so bizarre ever again. And that makes me kind of sad, that the weirdness of this human experience has peaked.
The year was 2005. I had been auditing Professor Ray Carney's classes at Boston University, reading every book he wrote (Cassavetes on Cassavetes among others), corresponding with him frequently over email, habitually checking in on his website Cassavetes.com and even sometimes riding bikes with him since he only lived five minutes away from me. One day, Carney posted on his website that he just saw a few short films by the Duplass Brothers and he was blown away by how good they were. The quality of the shorts convinced him that it was worth investing the time to see the Duplass' first feature film The Puffy Chair, which he was equally blown away by. Now, if Ray Carney said he was blown away by something he saw, you didn't take that lightly! As a very anti-Hollywood film scholar, he was perhaps the toughest cookie to please when it came to films. What I'm getting at is, if Ray Carney said he was blown away by Duplass Brothers movies, I knew I had to see these movies! Fortunately, I was able to find most of the shorts online -- not on YouTube -- but maybe it was some other video-sharing website or maybe the Duplass Brothers personal website...sorry, this isn't a very important detail. If my memory serves me correctly, I saw This is John first and was surprised by how fun and funny it was. I think I expected a more "difficult" and "complex" work because that's the kind of film I expected Ray Carney to be attracted to. But, no, this was a simple "three dollar film" and it was absolutely hilarious. In fact, I don't think I had ever laughed out loud so hard, the exception being the first time I saw Arnold Schwarzenegger's first movie Hercules in New York (I highly recommend you see this movie if you haven't).
But, yes, This is John was hilarious and "simple" but this isn't to say that the film lacked depth. I found the seven-minute short to be a fascinating character study of an insecure man who obsesses over how he wants the outside world to perceive him. I actually went so far as to write a mini-essay on This is John that talked about what-I-referred-to-as "media personas" in this digital age, how we have technology that enables us to carefully craft how others see us. In the case of This is John, it's an answering machine greeting but, today, we have Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, text messaging and all sorts of other ways we manufacture the way in which we want others to see us and also how we would like to see ourselves.
I would be remiss if I didn't mention that This Is John and my media persona "essay" became the spark that set fire to my first (good) screenplay, which later became my first (good) novel called JOHNNY CRUISE (available HERE on Amazon -- sorry for the self-promotion), which is all about media personas among other things. I'm not sure if JOHNNY CRUISE ever would have been born if I hadn't seen This is John so I guess I have the Duplass Brothers to thank for my novel, which I consider to be my favorite and best to date. I should also say that This is John convinced me that there was no reason why I shouldn't be making good short films on my own with what little money I had and what little equipment I owned. Money and equipment mattered little. Story, writing and acting was what mattered the most. I ended up making some great shorts with literally no budget and for one of them I didn't even have a crew. Everybody's heard of a one-man-band but I literally made a one-man-movie where I did all the writing, acting, cinematography and editing myself. Who knows: maybe I would have ended up making these movies anyway but This is John made me realize I could start making good movies, like right now...today! I would eventually go on to see other Duplass shorts like Scrapple and another one I don't remember the name of but it consists of an intervention for a friend who is suspected to be gay but won't come out of the closet. Both shorts were fantastic because they both started as very simple situations but you would go deeper and deeper into characters and the dynamics of a relationship as the film proceeded. They were very interesting character and relationship studies. Then, I heard The Puffy Chair was coming to the Boston Independent Film Festival. So I went to the screening. Waiting in line to get into the Somerville Theatre in Davis Square, Katie Aselton's parents were behind me chatting. I don't know how I knew this but they had a little group of extended family members or family friends with them and it was obvious who they were. I was about to turn around and tell them how much I loved Jay and Mark's movies but I wussed out big-time. As far as the film went, I loved Puffy Chair, especially the ending that was very anti-Hollywood, lacking proper closure and the message was that the complications in relationships never stop and, in some cases, relationships don't end up working out at all. Where in Hollywood movies, conflicts between characters always come to a happy resolution, the Duplass' movie realistically reminded us that relationships between people are always in a state of flux. A few years passed, the Duplass' careers took off and I would go on to see Baghead, Cyrus, Jeff Who Lives at Home and even a short documentary by brothers-Duplass called Kevin, which was about an amazing guitarist/songwriter named...you got it: Kevin. All great movies. Anyway, all of the above is a long-winded preface to my review of the Duplass' Brothers new book Like Brothers. This book is not just an inspiring "behind the scenes" look at the Duplass careers and the making of many of their movies, but it's also a great behind-the-scenes look at the soulmate-like relationship between the two brothers. Personally, I spend a lot of time thinking about the concepts of souls and soulmates and "twin flames" and "past lives" and reincarnation and all that New Age kind of stuff. Why? It's just an interest of mine. I've done extensive research on the subjects, I've visited multiple mediums and psychics, attended spiritualist meetings, etc. If souls actually exist, I can't help but wonder what the "history" is behind Mark and Jay's soul relationship. Are they twins on a soul level? Were they creative partners in a past life and both agreed to incarnate on earth at the same time, become filmmakers and tear sh** up in the independent film world? Have they always been together, whether on earth or in the spirit world? The reason I ponder all this is because, if you read their book, it's immediately apparent that their relationship seemed so close so early on in their lives. It's like they already knew each other before they were even born. Mark and Jay should really see a psychic or regression therapist to investigate into this possibility, and I'm not talking about the ones who have blinking neon signs on their windows that say "ten-dollar palm readings". But enough of the New Age talk. Putting all that business aside, all I can say is that it's a breath of fresh air to see a relationship where there is so much mutual respect for each other, especially between brothers, for crying out loud! What's especially amazing is how much Jay respected Mark at such a young age. Usually, the big brother teases his little brother, doesn't want to hang with him, denies him three times in front of friends etc. But not Jay. This is another reason why I feel they have a soul history that extends beyond their time on earth, but damn, more New Age talk! Sorry. Ok, putting all New Age talk aside for real this time (I swear), Like Brothers is a great read for aspiring filmmakers. Halfway through the book, Mark and Jay provide a very pragmatic step-by-step guide explaining how one can "make it" in this "brutal fu**ing [film] business". I won't share that information here but, trust me, it's good, practical advice for people who have no friggin' idea where to start. It's a great game plan that I personally wish I had heard about ten years ago but, hey, better late than never! Sprinkled throughout the book are also fun, hilarious and rather insightful essays/stories. These stories gave me great ideas on how to improve my storytelling craft. For example, to pass time waiting for their flights, Mark and Jay brew up movie ideas that revolve around random people they see in the airport. Also, in another chapter, Mark tells a story where, during the writing of Puffy Chair, he was literally unable to write because of stress fractures and overall physical pain. He consequently got a tape recorder and "wrote" the movie through speaking it out onto a tape. Talking out your movie is a great way to make the dialogue sound more natural and give you a better idea of pacing and how long scenes should be etc. By the end of reading Like Brothers, I found myself holding back tears and I don't remember a book ever doing that to me before. I started reading the book thinking I would be more interested in the filmmaking tips, career advice and interesting behind-the-scenes "making of" stories. However, by the end, I realized I was perhaps more interested in the story of Mark and Jay as brothers and the journey of their relationship, from struggling "nobody's" to success stories and everything in between. At times, I could see their story as a movie, like I could literally see the footage in my mind and the soundtrack, the tone etc. For example: Jay destroying what remained of the wooden box (you'll know what I'm talking about when you read the book). That image would say so much and no dialogue would even be necessary. I think brothers Duplass should consider making an autobiographical movie someday... So, yes, I highly recommend Like Brothers. Mark and Jay basically have the ideal filmmaking careers (i.e. one foot in the indie world and one foot, or maybe just a few toes, in the Hollywood studio world). This book tells us how they got there, as a one-of-a-kind brotherly team. MATT BURNS is not a New York Times bestselling author but he predicts he will be in the future; thus, he’s confident in saying that he is, indeed, a New York Times bestselling author (it just hasn’t happened quite yet). Both his debut novel "Johnny Cruise" and his filmmaking memoir "Garage Movie" are now available on Amazon. Also available are his numerous Kindle singles, including his best-sellers "Jungle F’ng Fever: My 30-Year Love Affair With Guns N’ Roses", "My Raging Case of Beastie Fever", "Three Days in Hollywood", "I Used to be a Gamer" and "Bostonwood". More notably, he has been published in the Los Angeles-based literary magazine "Poetic Diversity". Burns currently lives outside of Boston and makes films/videos in his spare time. Visit mattburnsproductions.com to learn more about him.
Gutter was finished by January 2001 and, due to a busy school schedule,
I didn’t get to make another movie until after the spring semester and when I
say “after the spring semester” I literally started working on it the day after
I was done with my finals. I was so happy that all the school bulls*** was
behind me and I could get down to doing what was really important: making
movies! Also, I didn’t have a job lined up for the summer so I wanted to work
hard and squeeze out a movie before my mom got on my case about filling out applications.
The movie was another
ten-minute short called British Dingo
from Ireland. Where Gutter was a
horror movie, British Dingo from Ireland
was my attempt at making an action movie, even though the “action” was limited.
The strange title of the movie was basically born out of my inability to speak
in an Irish accent without it sounding either British or Australian, so I
figured, well, why not create an ambiguous character who may be all three?!
And I did just that. I
played a character named Mr. Dingo and he was a shady dude who wore a Scally Cap
and a black trench coat (I was kind of ripping off the movie Boondock
Saints, which was popular at the time). All Mr. Dingo cared about was money
and he recently got himself involved in a big drug deal with some shadowy
characters named Kado and Pristine. The scheming Kado and Pristine try to
double-cross Dingo and screw him over. The drug deal goes sour and Mr. Dingo
finds himself in a firefight.
The "firefight"
involved toy guns and many gun sound effects that I believe I downloaded off
Napster. The film also featured some pyrotechnics and when I say 'pyrotechnics'
all we did was light a firecracker in a Miller Lite beer can to simulate the
can being hit by a whizzing bullet.
Pristine (Mark Willis) and Kado (Jeremy Mitchell) scheming on how
to screw over Mr. Dingo.
For British Dingo from Ireland, I again chose to shoot in Black and White for
aesthetic reasons but I also determined that the digital video looked better in
Black and White. It looked more like film whereas the colored video still looked too
home-video-ish for my liking.
With Dingo, I also attempted using a car as a
“dolly” so I could try and get some cool-looking tracking shots. I recruited
one of my friends to film Mr. Dingo (me) out the car window and had another
friend drive slowly. Surprisingly, the shots came out nice and smooth,
especially with the help of my camera’s (aforementioned) image stabilizer.
I even found some cool
shooting locations, the coolest of which was a creepy-looking warehouse in the
middle of wonderful Walpole, MA. This warehouse was where the drug
deal was to go down but, since I couldn’t shoot inside the actual building, I
got all tricksy with the editing and cut from an exterior shot of Mr. Dingo
(me) walking up to the warehouse…to an interior shot of me opening my garage
door…then, I shot the rest of the scene inside my garage. In other words, I
created the illusion that the inside of my garage was really the inside of the
warehouse. It worked well. I mean, most people probably could tell what I did,
but it still worked well enough and the illusion was all done through editing.
Amazing!
Indeed, the power of
editing never ceased to amaze me and I really pushed iMovie's parameters with British Dingo from Ireland. I remember
that the first version of iMovie only provided two soundtracks for you to work
with. This meant that you could put music on one track and then sound effects
or dialogue on the other track. The problem was when you wanted to use
background music, dialogue AND multiple sound FX at the same time. In editing
programs today, you basically have unlimited tracks to work with so, say, if
you have a car accident sequence and you want multiple sound effects (the
crash, the horn sounding, glass shattering, hubcaps rolling, not to mention
musical score and maybe even some dialogue, e.g. "holy s*** we're
crashing!") you have plenty of tracks to layer all the sound on top of
each other. But when you only have two sound tracks? Well...your options are
limited.
What I ended up doing is
putting sound effects on the same track as music, literally piling them atop
each other, which iMovie allowed me to do and the sounds would end up playing
simultaneously. But you weren't supposed to do this, so it significantly slowed
down the computer. In fact, in many cases, it slowed down the computer to such
an extent that my poor PowerBook laptop froze on me several times. I began to
realize that iMovie was only useful for extremely simple editing. My movies
were already becoming too complex what with their multiple sound FX, music and
dialogue tracks etc.
Surprisingly, I didn't
quite see all this as writing on the wall telling me I should make the switch
to Final Cut Pro. Well, maybe I did see the writing on the wall but I ignored
it, mainly because I liked and knew how to use iMovie. So, short story
long, I kept using iMovie. But it was with my next movie that I pushed it too
far. I’ll get to that next movie in a few moments.
I had a final cut of British Dingo from Ireland in my hands about
a week after I finished shooting. I was addicted to editing it and often worked
late into the night. I had this strange OCD-like thing going on where I would
edit up to a certain point and then watch what I had so far and I would watch
it over and over and over again. I still do that with every project I work on up
to this day. It’s like I’m so impressed with what I created that I need to
watch it repeatedly. Maybe it’s like being God where He creates the world and
on the 7th day He sits back and enjoys what He created, only my “7th
day” is repeated over and over again. Yes, it’s something like that, more or
less, probably less.
A rare photo of me
editing British Dingo from Ireland. You can see my camera bag nearby, as well as my trusty FireWire
cable. Photo by Brian Burns.
Like with Gutter, I exported the final cut out to
a MiniDV tape and then to a VHS tape. My friends watched this movie repeatedly
but, this time, I was proud of what I created and, well, the movie kind of made sense, at least a tad more
sense than Gutter. So I wanted to do
something more with the movie than just show it to my friends. But what could I
do with it?
Well, it was around this
time that I had stumbled upon a website called iFilm.com. This was a website
that featured videos and films made by amateur filmmakers. You could pay around
50 bucks, send your movie to iFilm, and they would upload it onto their website
for the entire world to see. Again, these were the days before YouTube, Vimeo
or anything like that. The idea of my short film being available on the
worldwide web for the world to see…well, I thought it would be awesome! I
wanted the entire world to see British
Dingo from Ireland. So why not send it to iFilm?
Well, send it to iFilm I
did, in the form of a MiniDV for optimal quality. I waited a few weeks and then
they sent me an email about a release date. The big premiere would be July
something-or-other so I got really excited. I thought this would be my big
break. British Dingo from Ireland would
take the world by storm.
I made a poor-man’s
version of a movie poster and Xeroxed dozens of copies. Then, I went door-to-door
to local businesses in the small suburb of Walpole and asked if I could hang
them up on their windows or somewhere inside. I was surprised that several of
these people were cool with it. They had no idea what the movie was about but I
had them convinced I was going to be the next Ben Affleck and Matt Damon…combined!
These days were all pre-social media, of course, so this was my only option for
marketing. I literally had to print out real, physical movie posters, walk into
the real, three-dimensional world and ask real, small-business owners if I
could hang these posters on their windows. Today, you would start a Facebook
page and Twitter handle and Instagram and all that s***. Not in 2001, though.
Nope, you had to get your boots on the ground and hang fliers up in
well-traveled areas.
My poor man’s version of a movie poster for British Dingo from Ireland.
Well, the day of the big
premiere came and I thought British Dingo
from Ireland would become an overnight phenomenon. Not quite the case. The
movie ran for two months, I believe, and I only garnered a total of 50 views.
Granted, I was rather impressed by 50 views but, of course, today, getting 50
YouTube views is easy, even if you’re videotaping yourself picking your nose.
Actually, bad example—that video would probably go viral in this day and age.
So, no, I didn’t quite
blow up to the bigtime, but I was still impressed that I had attracted an
audience of 50 people to a film I made with my own bare hands. The fact that I
created a movie from scratch and that an audience of 50 people saw that movie
was an incredible feeling.
I didn't always want to be a
filmmaker. At least, I don't think I did. No, I don’t think I did. All right,
let’s just play it safe here and say there’s a small possibility that I did but
it was more than likely that I didn’t. Maybe like a two-percent chance. Okay,
maybe more like a 2.74444444444 percent chance.
When I was 11 or 12 years old, I had
three career aspirations in mind and none of them had to do with filmmaking. I
figured it was good to have the magic-number-three because it was always
possible that, if one didn't work out, then I'd have two others to fall back
on, and then if one of those two didn’t work out, I’d have one more to rely on.
And, if all three fell through, then, well…life over, bucko. You were doomed.
Career
Aspiration #1 -- Basketball Player
I was dead
serious about this, too. I played in the “CYO” (Catholic Youth Organization)
basketball league every winter, spent most of my free time practicing foul
shots in my driveway and even attended basketball camp during my summers. I’m
talking hardcore basketball camp, too; none of that summer day-camp shit kids
went to so they wouldn’t get bored during the summer. It was called “Husky
Basketball Camp” and it took place at Northeastern University in Boston. I got
bussed into the city Monday through Friday for a week and we played basketball all
day except for the very end of the day where we had the option of swimming in
the indoor pool, but that was only if we were comfortable enough changing in
the men’s locker room. I thought I was comfortable enough changing in the men’s
locker room but I quickly changed my mind after seeing my first grown man naked
and was significantly traumatized. This is all extraneous information, though.
Sorry, that’s not what this book is about.
The truth of
the matter is that, overall, I didn’t really like “Husky Basketball Camp” and
it wasn’t just because of my traumatizing experience in the locker room. I
loved basketball, don’t get me wrong, but Husky camp was just not very fun. I
never returned to that camp but my basketball dreams stayed alive well through
middle school, probably up until I was about 14 years old. I tell you the truth
when I say I played a lotta fregging hoops, though, as the years went by, I
became less and less…well, ‘good’ is probably the proper word…at least relative
to other boys my age. Becoming a pro-basketball player became less and less of
a reality and, consequently, became less and less appealing to me. However, I
kept playing and I even found another (more local) basketball camp called “Fast
Break”, which was later renamed “Rebel Hoops Camp”.
I had much more
fun at “Fast Break” and I became somewhat famous among campers, though this
fame had nothing to do with my basketball skills. See, the coaches had learned
at some point during the week that I had another talent—playing the drums—and,
one day, they had me play on some buckets in front of the entire camp. I’m not
sure how they got away with this because it had nothing to do with basketball,
but, yes, they rounded up some buckets and had me play them with two dowels
that they found in the janitor’s closet. From what I remember, my “performance”
was rather poor but I tried to make it sound like Blue Man Group and the
campers went wild. I was cool for a hot minute. I felt like a rock star, which
brings me to…
Career Aspiration #2 -- Rock Star Drummer
Indeed,
becoming a rock star drummer was my second career aspiration of the
aforementioned three. I bought my very first drum set (the cool kids call it
‘drum kit’ but I’m sticking with ‘drum set’) in the third grade and, yes, I
bought it myself with the help of some First Communion gift money. I basically
taught myself how to play and, over the years, I got better and better and
f***ing better.
By the time
middle school came around, I was in a cover band with a couple of friends. Our
most notable performance was the 7th grade talent show where we
performed the song “When I Come Around” by Green Day. Our performance was
legendary because we were the first actual “band” to ever perform in the
Johnson Middle School (aka JMS) talent show. This sounds insane because the
year was 1995 and you’d think another band would’ve preceded us, especially
during the late-80s when glam-bands and MTV were all the rage. Guess not,
though. Up until our Green Day performance, the JMS talent show mostly
consisted of girls doing tumbling routines to the tune of C&C Music Factory.
After
blowing up big with the talent show, my band landed a gig at a hormone-fueled
“Teen Center Dance” held in the local “Blackburn Hall”. This was a dance where
teens asked their friends to ask girls to dance with them. Supposedly some French
kissing—the kids at my school called it ‘scooping’ for reasons unknown—went on
at these dances, too, but I was never cool enough to scoop anybody at the Teen
Center. I mean, I had a hard enough time asking a friend to ask a girl to dance
with me, let alone scoop anyone! Of course, my luck with girls changed when my
band played the dance—then, shit, man…the girls came to ME, man. I was Mr. Cool
Rockstar drummer dude, though I still slow-danced like an awkward Frankenstein
and usually left way too much room for the holy ghost.
Riding high
on our fame, my band also started playing (chaperoned) house parties. Our
set-list included songs like “Bullet with Butterfly Wings” by Smashing Pumpkins
and “Glycerine” by Bush, the latter of which melted the hearts of all the 14-year-old
girls. I must say that being a drummer in a cool band was a godsend for a shy
boy like I was. At one party, I ended up scooping a smoking hot Costa Rican
exchange student whom unfortunately got deported a few days later after getting
caught stealing scrunchies from Filenes (true story). There were other girls I
got to kiss as well, usually during spin-the-bottle games that would take place
after my band’s performance. I don’t mean to brag but I was getting tons of
tongue, all thanks to the fact that I was a nasty drummer. In fact, I don’t
think I ever would have had my first kiss if I didn’t play the drums. Double-in-fact,
I may have still been waiting for my first kiss ‘til this day. I could have
been like Drew Barrymore in that movie, what is it called? Never Been Kissed. Yes, that’s the one. I’d like to scoop Drew
Barrymore, by the way.
I played
drums throughout high school, hopped around from band to band, but, for
whatever reason, the drumming wasn’t rewarding me with any more scoops. My
senior year came along and my new cover band at the time was slated to play the
post-prom party that my school hosted in its gymnasium. I thought this would be
my big comeback. I would win over the hearts of all the high school girls and
secure me a lifetime’s-worth of sloppy scooping.
Well, the
big night came and my band played such hits as “Blind” by Korn, “Give it Away Now”
by Red Hot Chili Peppers, “Do What They Told Ya” by Rage Against the Machine,
“For Whom the Bell Tolls” by Metallica and even a couple songs by Pink Floyd.
The performance was stellar, though I was shocked when I didn’t have dozens of
girls lining up to scoop me afterwards. My dream of a drummer rock star died
right then and there at my senior year post-prom party.
Okay, it
wasn’t completely dead, I suppose. I would go on to play in a Misfits cover
band during my freshman year of college. We played a few gigs at a local school
called “Wheaton College” and even recorded a demo album in a semi-professional
studio. But the band dissipated after a few months or so.
Then, my
sophomore year, I joined a female-fronted punk band called “Death in Arms”. We
played a handful of gigs at dive bars in Providence and Boston, but the band
only lasted a year, recorded a couple demo albums and then we also broke apart.
By late college, I was actually sick of playing the drums. Imagine that! To
this day, I don’t enjoy playing them that much. As I write this, I hardly play
them. Every once in a while, I give them a try but then I get bored really
fast. It’s kind of sad but I think one day they will interest me again. That
day is not now, though.
So the rock star
drummer dream was dead, or at least hibernating a bit. The basketball player
dream was long dead, too. What was left then?
Career Aspiration #3 -- Acting
I was drawn
to acting from early on in my life, basically ever since the third grade and,
now that I think of it, third grade seemed to be a very significant year of my
life career-wise. This was when I first joined a basketball team, first bought
a drum set, and also...first starred in a school play.
The play had
something to do with Mother Goose and I played a character named Tom. I don’t
remember the play at all but I do remember a line where I had to describe how
“big” (i.e. fat) a man was. Or maybe it was Humpty Dumpty I was describing? All
I know is I got the audience to laugh very hard at my body-shaming insults and
I then realized I had some acting chops. I also liked how—after the play—I went
out into the audience to find my parents and I could feel a bunch of eyes on
me, like I was a star. It felt good for my ego. This was my first taste of fame
and I’m not going to lie: I liked it.
From that
point forward, I dreamed of becoming an actor one day. I did several plays and,
although plays were nice, I mostly set my sights on movies and television in
Hollywood. For a while, there was one main reason for this: I had my eyes on an
actress from one of my favorite TV shows. Yes, you probably guessed it: that
show was Full House and that actress
was Jodie Sweetin who played Stephanie Tanner. I had a MAJOR crush on Stephanie
and I kept dreaming that one day I would go to Hollywood, become a big child
actor and become Stephanie’s boyfriend.
In fact, my
plan was to become the next Eddie Furlong; you know, the child actor who played
John Connor in the movie Terminator 2:
Judgement Day. I told my mom that I’d need to grow my bangs out like
Furlong because this was the only way I would get parts and become an actor. My
mom was anti-bangs, though, and my hair wouldn’t cooperate anyway. See, by
nature, my hair was too thick and Brillo-like. In other words, it had no
movement to it so, if I grew out bangs, I would essentially have a static
doormat hanging from my face. It would be the furthest thing from Eddie Furlong
and I surely wouldn’t get acting parts, nor would I win the love of Stephanie
Tanner.
One day when
I was in the 5th or 6th grade, my dad saw in the
newspaper that there was going to be an open casting call at the Braintree Mall,
just outside Boston. Warner Brothers producers were out to find a Robin that
would star in the next Batman movie: Batman
Forever. I was thinking this was it! My big break! But, for whatever
reason, I never attended that casting call. Maybe my parents refused to take me
or maybe I got cold feet. Surely hundreds or maybe even thousands of people
would have showed up. It was probably more of a promotional event than an
actual serious search for the perfect boy/man to play Batman’s sidekick. At
least that’s what I told myself and that’s what I’ve been telling myself ever
since that day.
Warner Brothers
ultimately cast an already-established actor by the name of Chris O’Donnell who
was way older than me. I guess I felt good that nobody else had been
“discovered” but I couldn’t help but wonder: maybe…just maybe…if that assistant to the assistant to the casting director
had seen me, maybe Matt Burns would have been Robin and a brilliant acting
career would have been born. Oh, what could have been…
So, for the
most part (or actually for the all-part), my dreams of becoming a famous child
actor in Hollywood remained dreams and nothing more. However, I guess I was
still considered a child actor since I was acting, just not in Hollywood. For a
period of about ten years, I performed in play after play after play…after
play. I did nothing but plays. Some of these plays were at school, like in the
drama club. But others were part of a local theater troupe called the Walpole
Children’s Theatre.
The Walpole
Children’s Theatre (WCT) was a fantastic theater troupe, probably one of the
best children’s theaters in existence, although, last time I checked, that
wasn’t scientific fact. Our motto was that we don’t just put on plays that are
good for kids plays; we put on good plays, period. In other words, we didn’t lower
our standards because we were kids and, oh, we’re so cute, so it’s ok if we
sucked. Nope. We saw ourselves as professionals and we held our theatrical
productions to the highest of standards. None of that
go-out-on-stage-and-give-your-mother-in-the-audience-a-quick-wave shit. No way.
That would be unacceptable!
I joined WCT
when I was 12 years old. I was scared shitless at my first audition because
everybody seemed so much older and cooler than me, but I landed a part as a
hobbit “Grocery Boy” in a production of The
Hobbit. No, there isn’t a grocery boy in the actual Hobbit novel as far as I remember, but there was one in the play
and that’s who I was. I chose to speak in a ridiculously heavy British accent and
I delivered groceries to Bilbo Baggins whilst he hosted the dwarves to a dinner
near the beginning of the play. Hobbits didn’t care much for dwarves so my big
moment was when I scrunched my nose with disgust and shouted the line, “Dwarves…like
locusts!” and then Bilbo pushed me out of his home. Yes, the part was small,
but I also played an elf later in the play and then even later I got to play an
evil goblin as well.
The next
summer, I was cast as one of two “Gong Boys” in a production of The Emperor’s New Clothes. It was
another small role with a small amount of lines but it was fun because I had
this cool comedic bit where my fellow gong boy partner hit the gong I was
holding really hard and then my legs would shudder from the reverberation. Sounds
a tad homoerotic, I know (not that there’s anything wrong with that!) but it
got laughs from the audience and God knows I loved getting laughs.
Eventually,
I started landing larger roles in WCT productions. One year, I was Edmund in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe and
then the next year I was The Sheriff of Nottingham in Robin Hood. I was also the head dwarf in Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. Oh, and I played a court jester
in Aladdin, which was a different
version from Disney’s Aladdin, by the
way—you know, just in case you’re saying, “Wait, I don’t remember a court
jester! He’s lying!” The Jester turned into an evil magician halfway through
the play (this magician was basically the equivalent of Jafar in the Disney
version) and what I loved about the role was that I could really explore my
versatility. As the jester, I was a goofy clown, juggling and trying to make
people laugh. As the magician, I was evil and sinister, the complete opposite
of the jester. My job in the former role was to make the audience love me. My
job in the latter role was to make the audience loathe me. I loved subverting
the audience’s expectations. Just when they thought they loved me, I turned on
them. Muahaha.
Overall, I
loved being in the children’s theater. The atmosphere was very family-like and
you grew very close to your castmates, directors, producers, stagehands etc.
You grew especially close to each other during “hell week”, which was the naughty
slang term referring to the “tech week” leading up to the opening performance.
Sometimes we would have three performances in one single day so we would arrive
at the theater around seven o’clock in the morning and literally be around each
other until nine o’clock that night, or even later if we went out for ice cream
after the show. In between performances we would play card games (‘Spit’ was
usually the game of choice), listen to music (Nine Inch Nails and Stone Temple
Pilots come to mind), eat food (usually pizza or McDonald’s) and, well, sometimes
it was more fun hanging out backstage than being onstage acting.
For the last
show of each production, the backstage crew would always play pranks on the
cast members and I would sometimes be the target of those pranks. The one I
remember the most above all others happened during the last Robin Hood performance. During one of
the scenes, I had to page through a ledger for reasons I don’t recall and, when
I went to open the ledger, I saw numerous pictures of morbidly obese women
wearing nothing but string bikinis. These pictures were like something you
would find in the “adult” section of the Spencer Gifts card aisle—you know, husky
women with, like, quadruple-D breasts drooping down like a pair of soggy
watermelons. It was extremely difficult not to laugh but I managed to maintain
my composure even though I could see in my periphery that numerous stagehands
were snickering offstage. After I said my lines, I slammed the ledger shut,
harder than usual, almost like I wanted the crew to know that they didn’t break
me. Of course, later into the performance, I started flubbing lines left and
right, but I don’t think it was the prank that rattled me; I think I was just
overtired, it being the last performance and all.
This is me backstage before Robin
Hood (not wearing my Sheriff of
Nottingham wig).
Me in my elf costume taken after a performance of The
Hobbit.
There I am as the court jester after a performance of Aladdin.
This
is me as the head dwarf in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (non-Disney version). I was named Blick or
Glick, something like that. Not Doc.
Between the
years 1994-99, I was in about eight plays with WCT and all these were performed
alongside school drama club musicals, such as Godspell, Guys and Dolls
and City of Angels. I enjoyed all the
roles I played in both the WCT plays and the drama club musicals but I think my
most favorite role came from the most unlikeliest of places. Not from WCT…not
from drama club, either…but from…Holy Moses…Church!
A little bio blurb from the Guys
and Dolls program.
During my
sophomore year of high school, I was attending CCD classes for my upcoming
Confirmation and I started getting heavy into church activities so I could make
the best out of what was otherwise a pretty boring process (sorry, God, not
your fault). I was a lector at masses, doing readings from the Gospel and such.
I also played drums in the youth band. And, somehow, I got recruited to play
Pontius Pilate in The Passion play…
Pontius
Pilate surprisingly became my favorite acting role of all my various acting roles,
and maybe this was because, at the time, I was tired of doing fairy-tale-type
plays and flamboyant musicals. I had the burning desire to try something more ‘serious’.
I didn’t know much about the Bible or especially the Gospels, but my instincts
must have kicked in and I decided to play Pilate as a very sympathetic
character. He is, of course, the guy who sentences Jesus to death but I
depicted him as—not an evil villain—but as a politician at the mercy of public
pressure.
We performed
the play twice, once on Palm Sunday and then again on Good Friday. My
performance was well-received and I had several parishioners (mostly elderly
women) approach me afterwards to thank me for my performance. They said that I
made them see Pilate in a whole new light: not as a one-dimensional villain but
as a more complex human being. I felt proud about that. I mean, I had the power
to change a person’s perspective, make them see people differently, even people
from the most famous book of all time: The Holy Bible! This was also the first
time I felt a responsibility as an actor, the responsibility of portraying a
character in a manner that was true to that character and his or her human
condition.
Despite my Pilate
performance being a success, I started to get sick of acting as my high school
years progressed. Maybe one of the reasons was that I was doing too much of it.
I mean, there was WCT, there were the high school drama club musicals and then
an occasional church play—okay, only one of those…but still. My senior year in high school I played a Hungarian Broadway
director named Bela in a musical called Crazy
for You. It was the last play I did for several years. Like with the drums,
acting stopped being interesting to me. Besides, by this time, I had been
bitten by another bug and an entirely new career aspiration was on the rise…
