FEAST OF DAN

Perhaps the most notable sign of low self-worth is not having lofty enough ambitions.

Most of my close friends can tell you of the first time I met them, and how I surely utilised perhaps my favourite ice-breaker. I’ve long appreciated the romantic notion of following one’s dreams, and little disappoints me more than seeing good people settle for second best when the dreams they had as a teen become “too hard” to achieve. Therefore, upon meeting new people, in order to instantly get a good idea of who they are or who they want to be, I ask, “if I could give you your dream job right now, what would it be?” This is a question that guarantees a good response, as the respondent can’t prevent their eyes from glistening at the thought of what kind of life they wish to have. They then reveal what it is, and I enquire as to what they’re doing right now that will eventually lead them to it. I’d like to say the opposite but more often than not, people aren’t doing a god damn thing that will make their dreams a reality. Though perhaps, this is just “the modern age”.

In Feast of Love, Janey, Chloe’s housemate, is one of these people I wish would “aim higher”. When Chloe expresses her disappointment at the amount of money her and Oscar didn’t receive for their “highly erotic” sex tape, Janey, like any good friend, attempts to calm her down. Chloe scoffs that their payment will never be enough to afford the kind of life her and Oscar wish for, and Janey can relate:

“Hey, we’ve all got dreams. I mean, I want to buy new tits and a hybrid.”

If there’s only one thing you take from this blog, loyal reader, for god’s sake let it be to aim for something more in life than cosmetic surgery and a HYBRID CAR. In the interests of leading by example, my new aim in life is a complete “George Clooney facelift” and an Aston martin 0ne-77.

Because you deserve more. Now go get it!

Perhaps we’d all lead simpler and more honest lives if we all just went with our instincts, all the time. 

For Radha Mitchell, unintentionally doing so proved to be perhaps the best thing she ever did during Feast of Love.

Radha continued her relationship with Greg purely to make David jealous, though I would argue that perhaps this wasn’t her intention from day one. Upon their first meeting Radha genuinely falls for Greg’s vulnerable charm, though her natural instinct comes to life hours later. After yet another rendezvous with David, Radha casually mentions IN GREAT DETAIL MIND YOU how she’s unavailable for their next booty call due to an appointment with Greg the “coffee shop guy”. Thing is, we’re privy to the first time Greg and Radha meet so we know that no such appointment was arranged. Therefore Radha creates a lie to not only make herself less available to David, but to also spark his jealousy.

Her level of surprise by what she says is in itself very surprising. Radha, as if coming out of a trance, asks herself “why did you just say that?”, doubting that she could come up with a plan or a lie as good as the one she just did. This leads me to consider that sometimes in life your instinct can take over, and does or says things you didn’t think you could, would or should.

Instinct, in my opinion, is natural. Therefore perhaps if we let our instinct take over every once and a while, we’d all be better off.

Picking your audience is perhaps the most important part of seeking advice.

Chances are if I were to ever, hypothetically of course, consider starring in my own home made porno tape, I’d probably think carefully about whose advice I seek. Yet for Chloe, there’s no problem in asking a man who obviously has great knowledge of the pornography industry and is someone who is educated enough to give well-rounded advice i.e. senior citizen fucking MORGAN FREEMAN.

This move on Chloe’s part leads me to believe that she knew what kind of advice he’d give: the only kind she was looking for. 

Day 128 - Actor’s Studio

Allow me to submit the attached 5-second clip for Morgan Freeman: best actor ev-ah.

You’ll notice during this scene that Freeman’s wife accidentally knocks his hand, which unfortunately is holding a full glass of red wine. Yet Freeman, ever the professional, keeps his cool and stays in character and delivers his lines LIKE. A. BOSS.

Ay yo, actors! Step yo game up.

Hating something you’re forced to see everyday wound surely be the worst. This is why I’m glad - nay, just plain relieved - that I don’t have such negative feelings toward Feast of Love. Or at least, not as much as everyone seems to think. “Are you hating yet?” is by far the most common question I get asked upon mentioning this stupid self-imposed project to strangers for the first time. So then what becomes borderline more enjoyable than having an outlet to write everyday is their stunned expression when I reveal I’m actually not. Because thankfully this romantic drama I chose at random turns out to be, in my well earned opinion, unhatable. In fact, my feelings for Feast of Love are perhaps the complete opposite, as I’ve not only recently found myself giving it a better review than it deserves, but actually defending it. Folks who have seen the film tell me about plot holes they’ve noticed or poor soundtrack choices or actors they didn’t like, but Feast of Love is not Citizen Kane, nor is it trying to be. If I’d chosen a film like Citizen Kane, I’d be more open to such criticism and this blog would be even more banal than it already is. Yes I’ll admit this is just the most ridiculous experiment and that Feast of Love is not the greatest film ever made… but I’ll be damned if anyone’s gonna talk shit about it.

If anything, Feast of Love has effectively opened our eyes to an American tradition not yet recognised by the rest of the world.

While we can all appreciate Thanksgiving and the Fourth of July, according to Feast of Love, having sex on the fifty-yard line of a football field should receive the same level of recognition. Not once but twice does this occur during the film, leading me to believe that this is some sort of rite of passage for young American couples on heat. Besides, most of what I know I’ve learnt from Hollywood, so why should this be any different?

So now, thanks to Hollywood, next time I’m in the great U.S of A, I’ll be fully prepared to get down to business on hallowed turf with a young college girl, while also enlisting the help of the Fresh Prince of Bel Air should an ill-timed alien invasion occur.  

EDUCATION!

Whether you believe in it or refer to it as something else, you can’t deny that fate is a funny thing.

Recently my cousin married her boyfriend of 10 years or so. Over this time Ben had very successfully assimilated into our crazy extended family and so their official union was essentially a surprise to no one. Yet while I’d gotten to know Ben very well since he and my cousin first hooked-up, the actual story of how this happened was only revealed to me on their wedding day. One fateful night in country Victoria, Ben and his brother got to chatting up my cousin and her friend at the local. Thing is, she was underage and was only able to chat to Ben because a) she probably tramped it up big time and/or b) it’s the country. Hell, chances are even the bouncer wasn’t over-18. In any event, Ben put in the hard work and thus began a life journey which saw my cousin move to Melbourne to live with Ben and they, currently, are living happily ever after.

Standing in the audience watching my cousin get married and hearing this story for the first time, I couldn’t help thinking how serendipitous this all seemed. I haven’t yet decided if I believe in serendipity or fate or any of that business, though I do find stories like this fascinating. Especially when you consider how easily my cousin could’ve not only been denied entry into the pub, but into the heart of her future husband. Furthermore you could argue that, on this night, her entire future potentially rested on the “professionalism” of one beefed-up, under-paid country Victoria bouncer. I know these guys power-trip, but this is next level. 

Who knows where either Ben or my cousin would’ve ended up had she been carded that night? So too, who knows where Greg Kinnear would be if he hadn’t experienced his second divorce in as many years, cut off his finger in a bout of rage, and therefore met the love of his life in an emergency room?

Like any great example of my “work”, this has turned out to be nothing like what I’d intended. Fate or no fate, what’s become clear through this is just how important the “shit” in life is. It’s so important to trust that going through a crap time is absolutely necessary if we’re ever going to find happiness again. 

In The Shawshank Redemption, Andy Dufresne has no choice but to swim through miles of shit to get to the rain, and in real life, we are required to do no different.

Because according to one Rose Callaghan I’m a “drunken baffoon”, Saturday night I somehow left my glasses at a house party somewhere in Fitzroy that I somehow got invited to and somehow returned home from many hours later. Therefore, just for something a little different, last night for the first time ever I watched Feast of Love without my optical aide. I’m happy to report that my eyesight is not so terrible that it prevented me from adhering to this stupid commitment, and all that was required was for me to sit dangerously close to the screen which ironically, is most likely why I need glasses in the first place. Life!

There appears to be an odd amount of echo from the music being played at Greg and Radha’s wedding reception. In fact, there really shouldn’t be any echo at Greg and Radha’s wedding reception seeing as it’s held OUTDOORS.

If you look at something for long enough you’re bound to find some cracks. I’m sure there’s a mistake on the Mona Lisa but no one’s looked at it for an hour and a half every day for a year.

Next year’s stupid project, perhaps?

You’re not even trying with a tag like that. #itcouldhavebeenworse (Taken with instagram)