SUPER POWER GAINED FROM WATCHING MOVIE: The Ability To Never Move to L.A. To Become An Actor, Even If I Already Live There.
THE CARD:
A Superman in need of a sandwich; a Wonder Woman in denial; her uber-douchebag husband; a whiny Marilyn Monroe; a pissy fibbin' Batman; hobo Hulk; the most uncomfortable shrink session since my last marriage; and about fifty reasons never to walk a Hollywood sidewalk ever again.
More details here.
THE ANGLE:
When in Hollywood, visit the world famous Hollywood Boulevard where you will be treated to a spectacle of grown men and women dressed as superhero characters for your amusement, picture taking, and pocket change. Superman (Christopher Dennis) may or may not be the son of actress Sandy Dennis, but he sure has a peculiar obsession with his comic book hero, which he uses to wallpaper his apartment. Batman (Maxwell Allen) is a tightly wound scooter rider who, much like the Caped Crusader, has an anger problem and a fantasy-filled past. Oh, and he looks like George Clooney, a fact that he will never let you forget, especially if you want to. Wonder Woman (Jennifer Wenger) is a cute and curvy wannabe actress with an insufferable dick for a husband, making an already difficult life decision to pursue acting a billion times harder. The Hulk (Joseph McQueen) is a former homeless drifter who came to Hollywood for the fame, money, and dirty blankets. These are the men and woman who saunter up and down the illustrious avenue of broken dreams in search of a way to be recognized, a way to be remembered, and a way to pay their gas bill. Their stories are unforgettable and are brought to life through the magic of the documentary in which a person picks up a camera, points and shoots, and works for tips.
THE FINISHER:
OK, it's no big secret that I live in Hollywood, a mere four blocks from Mann's Chinese Theater. Each day when I take my morning constitution up and down the famed boulevard, I witness firsthand a motley crew of costumed creative folk greeting the tourists, lighting up cherubic faces with delight, and generating dozens of smiles. But just past the whorehouse is the celebrated movie theater where a bunch of smelly unemployed actors and borderline mental cases don colorful costumes and take pictures with shlubs for some coin. The lives of said characters are rigorously recounted in the startling documentary Confessions of a Superhero, a chronicle of dead or dying dreams, a inside look at the high price of unattained fame, and a spooky tale actors tell their actor kids at night to warn them of the consequences of not keeping up with their Adler breathing techniques. Director Matt Ogens captures a tiny snapshot of this phenomenon by focusing on Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, and Hulk, a nutty foursome with some serious issues and fascinating personas that exceed the wonder of the very characters they are portraying. Ogens expertly and non-obtrusively peels the psychological layers of these people to get at the heart of their psychosis, whether it be obsession, anger, fame, or a simple desire to be remembered. At times, it's hilarious and heartbreaking at once, but the film's tone does not judge or mock these people, but rather dissects their dreams and lays them out for the viewer to come their own conclusions. Sad, crazy, or wonderful? The movie isn't another mean-spirited freak show, nor is it a depressing and morbid portrait of desperation and failure. Confessions of a Superhero is an evocative look at another type of Hollywood dream machine, a street where dreams go to die, if only to take on another form.
P.S. With the exception of Wonder Woman, I have seen all these guys on Hollywood Blvd at one point or another. Hulk has seen better days. I saw Batman sipping from a soda can a tourist discarded. And Superman is still a nice guy, and he really loves Whoppers.
THE CARD:A Superman in need of a sandwich; a Wonder Woman in denial; her uber-douchebag husband; a whiny Marilyn Monroe; a pissy fibbin' Batman; hobo Hulk; the most uncomfortable shrink session since my last marriage; and about fifty reasons never to walk a Hollywood sidewalk ever again.
More details here.
THE ANGLE:
When in Hollywood, visit the world famous Hollywood Boulevard where you will be treated to a spectacle of grown men and women dressed as superhero characters for your amusement, picture taking, and pocket change. Superman (Christopher Dennis) may or may not be the son of actress Sandy Dennis, but he sure has a peculiar obsession with his comic book hero, which he uses to wallpaper his apartment. Batman (Maxwell Allen) is a tightly wound scooter rider who, much like the Caped Crusader, has an anger problem and a fantasy-filled past. Oh, and he looks like George Clooney, a fact that he will never let you forget, especially if you want to. Wonder Woman (Jennifer Wenger) is a cute and curvy wannabe actress with an insufferable dick for a husband, making an already difficult life decision to pursue acting a billion times harder. The Hulk (Joseph McQueen) is a former homeless drifter who came to Hollywood for the fame, money, and dirty blankets. These are the men and woman who saunter up and down the illustrious avenue of broken dreams in search of a way to be recognized, a way to be remembered, and a way to pay their gas bill. Their stories are unforgettable and are brought to life through the magic of the documentary in which a person picks up a camera, points and shoots, and works for tips.
THE FINISHER:
OK, it's no big secret that I live in Hollywood, a mere four blocks from Mann's Chinese Theater. Each day when I take my morning constitution up and down the famed boulevard, I witness firsthand a motley crew of costumed creative folk greeting the tourists, lighting up cherubic faces with delight, and generating dozens of smiles. But just past the whorehouse is the celebrated movie theater where a bunch of smelly unemployed actors and borderline mental cases don colorful costumes and take pictures with shlubs for some coin. The lives of said characters are rigorously recounted in the startling documentary Confessions of a Superhero, a chronicle of dead or dying dreams, a inside look at the high price of unattained fame, and a spooky tale actors tell their actor kids at night to warn them of the consequences of not keeping up with their Adler breathing techniques. Director Matt Ogens captures a tiny snapshot of this phenomenon by focusing on Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, and Hulk, a nutty foursome with some serious issues and fascinating personas that exceed the wonder of the very characters they are portraying. Ogens expertly and non-obtrusively peels the psychological layers of these people to get at the heart of their psychosis, whether it be obsession, anger, fame, or a simple desire to be remembered. At times, it's hilarious and heartbreaking at once, but the film's tone does not judge or mock these people, but rather dissects their dreams and lays them out for the viewer to come their own conclusions. Sad, crazy, or wonderful? The movie isn't another mean-spirited freak show, nor is it a depressing and morbid portrait of desperation and failure. Confessions of a Superhero is an evocative look at another type of Hollywood dream machine, a street where dreams go to die, if only to take on another form.
P.S. With the exception of Wonder Woman, I have seen all these guys on Hollywood Blvd at one point or another. Hulk has seen better days. I saw Batman sipping from a soda can a tourist discarded. And Superman is still a nice guy, and he really loves Whoppers.
1 comment:
I gotta say it's great to have Chis (AKA Superman) in Hollywood. He's actually quite informed about everything that's going on and loooooves to tell the tourists all about it.
Unfortunately, if you pose for a picture with him, your arm will likely rub against his junk.
(shudder)
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