It’s John Cassavetes’ birthday.
In the early 90s I came across some photos in Interview magazine that Sam Shaw had taken while hanging out at the Cassavetes household. There’s John Cassavetes, Ben Gazzarra, and Peter Falk clowning around beside the pool. There’s the garden that Gena Rowlands loved to work in outside her house. And – best of all: one of my favorite photographs of all time, spread out over two pages – of John and Gena, holding their dog. I ripped the pages out and went to a Xerox joint and made a huge copy of the two ripped out pages on thick heavy paper – not just cheap Xerox paper. I have had it on my wall ever since.
You can see the rip down the middle in the Xeroxed copy. I love it for its character and also its long history in my own life. I love that it has a quote from Ben Gazzarra on the photo, about John’s love for Gena as an actress. I love the roughness of it, and the image itself. I have never seen this image online anywhere else – in Sam Shaw collections or elsewhere – so it’s even more precious to me, especially in its imperfections. It has been on my wall in every apartment I have lived in, in Chicago, in Hoboken, in New York. I look at it, and I remember who I am, who I want to be, the kind of life I would like to have (and, come to think of it, the kind of life I do have), my values.
Michael told me he fell in love with me when he first walked into my bedroom and saw that I had the photo of these two particular people on my wall.
“I should have proposed to you immediately when I saw that poster.” he said. It took him a couple years to propose, and by that point we hadn’t seen each other in 3 years. But he called, out of the blue, and proposed, which led to many ridiculous hijinx (because I actually said Yes, which he hadn’t planned for at ALL, throwing us into a tizzy of hypothetical marriage planning, and Mitchell getting stern with us when we waffled on whether or not to do it: “You guys are morons. Just spend the rest of your life with each other. I am so sick of hearing about it.”).
Clearly our bond went way deeper than a shared passion for Cassavetes, but something like that is, indeed, a marker, a sign, an invisible signal of shared interests and tastes. And not just that, but an outlook on life.
The reason Michael spontaneously called me from 3,000 miles away to propose marriage? He had just come out of a Cassavetes film festival and there was only one person he wanted with him. Why wasn’t she here with me? This is stupid. Where is she?
I suppose only a really serious film fan will understand that story. And that I would say Yes, even though I was no longer with him, across the country, and crushing on other people. Because of course. There aren’t too many people who would look at a poster of John and Gena on your wall and think: “Well. Clearly whatever happens, she and I are cut from the same cloth.”
I still haven’t written seriously about Cassavetes. Or Rowlands. They’re too wrapped up in who I am, and how I feel about myself.
Someday, though. Someday.
The post I wrote about the party at Keith and Dan’s, and the magical connecting conversation I had with people I had not really known up until that night, kind of says it all.
Sheila: The reason Michael spontaneously called me from 3,000 miles away to propose marriage? He had just come out of a Cassavetes film festival and there was only one person he wanted with him. Why wasn’t she here with me? This is stupid. Where is she?
I suppose only a really serious film fan will understand that story.
I understand completely, and I have a feeling more than a few people who read your blog will understand this story, as well. The types of movies you love the most also give a clue as to what company you like to keep. Just like with people, we choose movies we can grow old with, and for similar reasons.
“and, come to think of it, the kind of life I do have, my values.”
Love reading this particular line.
For example, I love Dean Stockwell – but loving Dean Stockwell doesn’t say much about who you are and what matters to you in the way that loving Cassavetes does. It’s a secret kind of club, and yes, it can be clicque-y but it really has a lot of meaning, if you’re on the inside of it. Aside from actually loving all of those movies, and loving the performances and the experience of watching them. Maybe it’s about the importance of family, or being committed to work outside of commercial concerns – being good to people (or trying to be), trying to see the best in others, trying to perceive their humanity.
Hell, I’d marry someone who had those values, sure I would.
I completely agree with you comment, but I meant I loved reading you saying that it was “the kind of life I do have.” Just makes me feel good.
DBW – you’re so nice. It makes me feel safe to know you’re out there rooting for me and being happy for me. Thank you.
More magic, thank you, Sheila. It’s like a youtube commenter once said of JC: “This guy should have been paid just for living.”
I look at it, and I remember who I am, who I want to be, the kind of life I would like to have (and, come to think of it, the kind of life I do have), my values.
After watching trailers for the new 3 STOOGES and Hasbro’s BATTLESHIP, I realize, with some horror, that a lot of people today can say the same thing about those movies. Cassavetes wouldn’t recognize this place.
Boone – awesome to see you. I miss you.
Cassavetes is still a pioneer. Still ahead of the curve, still a rebuke and an inspiration.
I miss him.
Miss you, too. I’m still around, reading, loving your page silently from the back row. But you know I gotta break the silence whenever you do a Cassavetes post.
Peace and love….