Jerry Jay Hewitt writes a letter to his muse: the captivating Ryan Gosling.
Who do I write for? Who is next to that fireplace as I cradle them to sleep with my quilted prose? Well, this would have been the perfect time to say that I write for my girlfriend; that her glowing eyes give spark to my pen as I write about our love.
“Why don’t you ever let me read your work? It’s been four years … LET ME READ SOMETHING!”
Well Kelly, I don’t let you read anything so you wouldn’t have to make the face that you are about to make.
I write for the sweet Canadian muscle of Ryan Gosling.
It started out small. Remember the Titans. He wasn’t a huge character, but he immediately took my heart with his southern charm as he danced around to his bluegrass music. So I write to you, Alan Bosley, about wanting to become bigger. I write for you because you show me that perfection is possible if you work together as a team.
When Gosling played Noah in The Notebook I couldn’t help but feel jealousy towards Ally. He builds you a house? What about me? I write to you, sweet and rugged Noah, about finding love. About sweeping a girl off their feet when they are young and then carrying them to bed when they grow old and forgetful and fat.
Gosling’s other roles continued to captivate me. A drug addicted teacher, a serial killer, a driver, a corrupt politician (where is the Oscar for that by the way?), a decent husband with a slight, teensy little alcohol problem (but also a great father. I’m on your side in Blue Valentine; that was all her fault).
And yes, after I saw Jacob Palmer successfully pull off the dirty dancing move in Crazy Stupid Love I tried it on you, Kelly and you flipped over my head backwards.
And although Ryan’s acting is perfect, he, like his characters, has flaws. Take dating, for example. Now Ryan, how can you have dated Sandra Bullock, Rachel McAdams, Blake Lively, Kate Upton, and Eva Mendes? Are you trying to date the entire list of the world’s sexiest actresses? I’m sorry but they cannot replicate the perfect love that you have with the girls in your movies.
I write to you, Alan, Noah, Dan, David, Dean, Stephen, and to all of your future characters, Ryan. You always seem to know what makes that character tick. Despite their income, despite their problems, despite their perfect radiant muscular physique and piercing hazel-nut eyes, you make them human. You know what makes them, them; we hate them, we love them, we want to be them, but they are them, and we are we.
When I write, whether its screenplays, fiction, non-fiction or poetry, I sit and I think to myself, “What makes this character them?” In other words, If Ryan Gosling was to play this character, what would he make stand out about this character? What would he suppress? What would he say here to make the other character melt into his arms, or throw a frying pan at his face?
I also write to you for hope; that one day I will become accomplished enough to meet with you at an empty coffee shop (even though I don’t drink coffee) and discuss the script I would have given you.
“Did anyone follow you,” Ryan asks?
“No, I made sure of it.”
We then get up and stare into each other’s eyes as we take off our clothes just as you did with Ally. As we stand their naked, we look at each other through dim lighting. I am bereft of my fifteen dollar pullover and you are bereft of your Gucci sweater. All that remains is our souls (and your chiseled godlike physique).
“This is what it should look like,” Gosling whispers.
So I write naked, with nothing hiding my soul to the rest of the world, because art, whether writing or acting, is perfected when you take a character and make them perfectly, boringly, human. Where they do not have Alan’s charm or Noah’s poetic ruggedness or Jacob’s 18 pack of abs, but share a number of distinct inequalities that make them a real human being. Where Alan is a bit racist and Jacob was a womanizer and Dean is an alcoholic and Noah … well … he still may be perfect. But every character has a flaw, a human characteristic, and works hard to fix that flaw, in hopes to become the perfect human being, who must strip down naked to show the world their flaws.
And as we sit there together you read my script and you will say, “This character is just what I had in mind.” And I will smile and say “I know.”
Image credit: friskytuna/Flickr