Name something you’d like to be. What do you really wanna do?

Written by Alex on December 26th, 2009

I wanna be a shepherd.  I wanna move up to Nashua, get a nice little spread, get some sheep and tend to them. — Will Hunting, Good Will Hunting

… I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of little kids, and nobody’s around – nobody big, I mean – except me. And I’m standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff – I mean if they’re running and they don’t look where they’re going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That’s all I do all day. I’d just be the catcher in the rye and all. I know it’s crazy, but that’s the only thing I’d really like to be. — Holden Caulfield, The Catcher in the Rye

The Catcher in the Rye

While Will’s response to Sean’s “what do you wanna do?” question is laced with bullshit, I always thought there was real sentiment in the ache for simplicity his statement suggests.  “I wanna be a shepherd.”  It always reminded me of Holden Caulfield.

Years ago, on an emotionally complicated evening, I found myself full of longing for the sort fantasy space Will and Holden speak of. 

I wrote to a friend, in an email:

… [A]fter going on a nice long walk down to the Store 24 in JP at 3 in the morning to get a coke, in the strangely warm, windy, rainy evening… there I was, sitting on my balcony at 4am….  It was a very Catcher in the Rye feeling evening, with the walking, wandering, feeling of isolation, and as I looked down at the street the wind was blowing everyone’s discarded Christmas trees (as it was trash day the next morning) around, some rolling into the street, and I thought of how nice it would be to just save the Christmas trees and keep rolling them back into the sidewalk, staying up all night and directing traffic around the trees, just like the Catcher in the Rye would catch those [kids].

I’ll never forget the response I received:

If I were home, I would give you my biggest hugs, and we would probably fall off your balcony and then someone like Holden would have to catch us….

Look into my eyes. I don’t need therapy.

Written by Alex on December 24th, 2009

Merry Chrismikkah from the O.C.

Last weekend I gathered with friends for some holiday-time viewing that included Die Hard (yeah, it’s a Christmas movie), A Charlie Brown Christmas, The Office Christmas Special (BBC, duh), and the Chrismukkah episode of The O.C.  I bring it up because this holiday O.C. is also the episode where Marissa attends her first therapy session (and befriends in the waiting area an obsessive sociopath, so, that’s not great for her)

We were struck by Marissa’s vehement opposition to seeing a therapist.  It recalls Will Hunting’s persistent refusal — he mocks one alternative-y, hypnosis-y therapist, ”Look into my eyes. I don’t need therapy.” 

Marissa is allowed to move in with her cheery and lovable father (and out from under the roof of her shrewish mother), but her part of the deal is she has to go to therapy — because she overdosed in Tijuana, the latest in a series of drug/alcohol abuses.  Will is allowed to stay out of prison (and do math), but his part of the deal is that he has to go to therapy — because he beat the crap out of a guy who picked on him in kindergarten, the latest in a series of violent encounters.

It seems weird, kind of… why such refusal?  It’s odd to realize how strong the stigma is for many, though if Tony Soprano can go to therapy, so can Marissa.  (Though I suppose Tony didn’t go extremely willingly either.)  Is it sexist/classist to assert that it makes more sense for Will to react this way than Marissa?  Ryan is a very Will-like character, and his encouragement is what gets her to go — as if the out-of-control woman needs to be in therapy but the out-of-control men do not.

That two such different characters should react in this same way, against their best interests, speaks to the varied perception of the value of therapy and the necessity for a dramatic protagonist to be (unrealistically?) resistant to positive change.  It is only an ultimatum that gets them to that session, and to the next turn in their stories.

The people speak…

Written by Alex on December 15th, 2009

Triumph of the Will / Good Will Hunting #unlikelydoublefeatures
I am the only passenger on this train. I feel very Matt Damon in Good Will Hunting except on the Green Line.
Peace on Earth and Good Will Hunting to all men #christmasfilms
Can anyone recomment me a movie by Robin WIlliams? Other than Flubber, Good Will Hunting, Patch Adams, RV and Bicentennial Man?
wow. good will hunting was amazing. beat that jude law.
Drinks sent over: "Good Will Hunting was my favorite. I've fantasized about you for years" - Note back: "I'm not Minnie Driver, but thanks!"
@ThatKevinSmith Rumor: you wrote Good Will Hunting, but gave Ben and Matt the credit. True?

Someone like you out there.

Written by Alex on December 9th, 2009

A better ending than "I had to see about a girl"

Towards the end of the film, Will Hunting grows tired of his role as math genius.  He walks out of Professor Lambeau’s office, casually setting fire to a proof that only a “handful of people in the world” could have completed.  What follows is, to me, one of the most memorable moments of the film, though it comes off somewhat comically in its incongruity.  Lambeau, crumpled on the floor, having beat out the fire with his bare hands, says to Will:

Most days I wish I never met you. Because then I could sleep at night, and I didn’t have to walk around with the knowledge that there was someone like you out there…

Stellan Skarsgard’s performance is solid, and the line heartbreaking, but I can’t help thinking it more appropriate to a story of love lost.  It’s a better line than “I have to see about a girl,” that’s for sure.  (I wish at the film’s conclusion Will had stolen Lambeau’s line instead of his weepy therapist’s.)

Throughout the film there is an unspoken love Professor Lambeau feels for Will — his admiration of Will’s genius instills in him a vicarious sense of success, perhaps one he hasn’t felt since winning the Fields Medal (an award specifically bestowed upon young men, mathematicians under 40).  Lambeau tries to take on the role of Will’s father, which isn’t such a good idea — based on what we learn Will’s real father used to do to him.  Lambeau playfully tussles Will’s hair in one scene as they finish off a math problem, and we are to read Tom the bland T.A. as the jealous but undeserving son.  Will Hunting is the prodigal son, but he refuses this mantle. 

“Most days I wish I never met you.”  It doesn’t quite work in the scene because until now, Lambeau’s affection and Tom’s jealousy is mostly played for laughs.  Lambeau has been kind of a villain (in Will’s world the educated and non-Southie-accented are elite, effeminate, and inauthentic) but here he gets his moment.  He’s a vulnerable and defeated old man.  But ultimately I’m not sure the character is developed enough for this moment to come off as sincere as Skarsgard performs it, which is a shame. 

I think of the “someone like you out there” line a lot; it is broad in its stroke, elegant in its desperation. And for many of us it is difficult to sleep, knowing some one person is out there, without us.

If you want to read a real history book, read Howard Zinn’s A People’s History of the United States. That book will knock you on your ass.

Written by Alex on December 7th, 2009

Matt Damon namedrops The People’s History of the United States by local academic Howard Zinn, in the Harvard bar scene of Good Will Hunting.  Damon and Zinn have teamed up for an upcoming History Channel program.

Regarding the inclusion of the reference in the film, Damon has told The Boston Herald about his first exposure to Zinn’s work in fifth grade:

My mother had read me the passages about Columbus, that two years after Columbus discovered America, more than 100,000 Indians were dead. And I wondered, ‘How is this guy so celebrated that we take a day off from school to bask in his greatness?’

There was a whole other side to the story. What Columbus did, coming here, was a big achievement, but there was more to the story. And that was a great lesson to get at an early age.

Damon and Zinn

What we tweet about when we tweet about Good Will Hunting

Written by Alex on November 30th, 2009

At Harvard bars recreating scenes from Good Will Hunting. I am NOT the guy with the blonde ponytail.
RT @oliviamunn: My 2-year-old niece can count to 10 in English, Spanish AND Vietnmase. Holy crap she's like Matt Damon in Good Will Hunting.
The "apples yupie" from Good Will Hunting is doing gold buying commercials? Now I'm sold!
Is the guy in the Goldline.com ad the Harvard douche who gets schooled by Damon in "Good Will Hunting"? http://yfrog.com/3go51kj
Laptop screens on Amtrak reveal which movies make sense with no sound. "Good Will Hunting" easy to follow. "Miss Congeniaility" baffling.
He's dressed and has his har cut like matt damon in good will hunting. I don't even know this guy and I hate him like burning.

You’ll be serving my kids fries at a drive-thru on our way to a skiing trip

Written by Alex on November 27th, 2009

As previously discussed on Blog Will Hunting, Scott Winters (Clark, the Harvard bar jerkface) is currently appearing in commercials for Goldline.com. 

Scott Winters loves gold
Scott Winters loves this gold
Scott Winters likes to hold and touch gold

Watch the videos on YouTube, particularly the one on Market Stability, where Winters fondles gold lovingly.  Apparently gold looks like an ipod!

The English “-ing” form of a verb

Written by Alex on November 26th, 2009

forresterdvdcover

Not long after Gus Van Sant’s Finding Forrester was released, I was discussing the director with my friend Brendan, at a rooftop party in Brooklyn. (I included that last detail so you’d know that I am — or at least have been — or at least think I may have been — cool.)

With Good Will Hunting and Finding Forrester under his directorial belt, we envisioned Van Sant’s next film…. We suggested it be an autobiographical bio-pic in which a brilliant young filmmaker overcomes adversity to find his own voice (with the help of a mentor character who doesn’t quite follow the rules). The experienced and uninspired Van Sant, as mentor, must confront the commercialization of his recent films and the accompanying loss of passion for his work… together, mentor and student, they learn to reject the Hollywood system and find their own way.

The name of the film: Running Out of Gerunds.

Now, no one ever thinks this is nearly as brilliant and funny as we did.  (And I realize now that “finding” in this instance is probably not actually a gerund, but a present tense verb.  The hubris of youth!)  Nevertheless, I love the joke dearly.

Running Out of Gerunds

To be fair, it is certainly notable that Van Sant took the clout he earned with the success of Good Will Hunting and went ahead and made a big fat failed experiment of a movie that is probably only successful as commentary on the intersection of the low-budget-and-scrappy and the movie-star-laden-and-over-marketed.

Only because of Good Will Hunting did anyone let Van Sant make Psycho.

A few years later he returns to commercial filmmaking.  In a way Finding Forrester is simply a sequel to Good Will Hunting, and as Van Sant explains in an interview with The Believer, “The most interesting films that studios want to be making are sequels. They would rather make sequels than make the originals, which is always a kind of a funny Catch-22.”