The Interview, Plus John Hughes is Overrated

Woke up yesterday at 8:30 am and ate, showered, shaved, and got dressed all pretty, then I drove to where my interview was. It was a big office, nicely decorated, and the receptionist had me fill out some information sheets. When I was done I was led back to meet the guy who would be my boss in the event that I’m hired there.

He was pretty laid-back and we chatted for a while about Nashville and music and writing, then he took me to lunch at the Opry Backstage Grill (in which the waiters and waitresses randomly go up to sing songs before nonchalantly returning to work). Afterwards, we went back to his office and chatted a bit more. Then he passed me off to a girl that would be on the team I would hypothetically be joining. We talked briefly, then she passed me on to the VP of HR, who talked to me about drumline before passing me on to the President of HR. After we chatted for a bit about studying abroad and Japan, I went back to the VP of HR and then was done. I got there at 10:30 am and left at 2:40 pm.

What does all of this mean? If I understood businesses then I would already have a job, so I can’t possibly answer that. Did it go well? Yes, I believe it went very well. The position is an entry-level copywriting job, and since “writing” is actually in the title and it’s one of the few things I have legitimate experience in, I feel as though my chances are quite good. Now I just have to twiddle my thumbs until they call (if they call).

In other news, Brit and I have been devouring a movie a day since I arrived here on Tuesday evening. On Wednesday night we watched Syriana. It was extremely well-made in the sense of acting and writing, but the plot itself was so gigantic that it was super hard to follow. We had all of these characters doing things all over the world, and sometimes we knew what they were doing and sometimes we didn’t, and a lot of them never collided so we were left with pieces just floating in the ether. Near the end both of us were relatively lost and didn’t really understand what the conclusion was (there was none, as far as I was concerned). Also, I knew about George Clooney’s accident before seeing the movie, which made the torture scene way more disturbing. Look up the grisly details.

I felt about the construction of this movie the same way I felt about the construction of Babel, Crash, and Traffic. They pack a million characters in there and never give you enough time with anyone for you to get a sense of who they are. The only feeling you’re left with is that the world is huge and tons of people move around in it. The structure doesn’t really work for me, unless….

….it’s used in the way Contagion used it. Brit and I drove to a theater in nearby Madison TN last night and saw Contagion in an almost-completely (and somewhat eerily) empty theater. We paid too much and hoped it would be worth it. Not halfway through the movie, however, I was pretty convinced it was. See, it had a ton of characters doing a ton of things, but we had main characters and then some less important characters, and while the less important ones weren’t fully-fleshed out (in terms of character development), the main ones certainly were, all while progressing the plot and showing us how the world will fall apart when some super-virus is spawned from bats and pigs hanging out together. Pigs and bats should know better, after all.

I read this article and found the movie all the more terrifying. We’re all going to die from some virus and there’s nothing we can do about it! Maybe I’ll just go hang out with Marion Cotillard in a Chinese village.

So then, on the topic of movies: John Hughes. What’s that guy’s deal? He’s super-revered by everyone for some goofy teen comedies in the ’80s and the only thing of his I actually like is Christmas Vacation. Granted, it’s a great movie, but it doesn’t quite cancel out the badness of Weird Science, which was the movie pick of the night tonight. It started off way too quickly and threw all kinds of plausibility into the wood chipper (you know, you just go into the computer and pick from three doors in a very Doom-like graphic interface, and then the sky turns red and electricity turns your Barbie doll into a hot Playboy centerfold who walks out of a suddenly rubberized bathroom door. Happens all the time).

In addition to having a scene so racist and illogical that it almost made us forget that these two sixteen year-olds made one “twenty-four” year-old (she had to be in her 30s in reality) to solve their girl problems, the house is eventually overtaken by mutants ripped from Mad Max – as a consequence of more red sky appearing and lightning causing the furniture to be sucked into the chimney and then thrown through the air into the private lake in their backyard.

So there. John Hughes was just a goofy guy making goofy movies to sate the frustrations that teens in the ’80s felt regarding their stuck-up parents always trying to oppress their fun-loving exploratory attitudes. And, like most ridiculous things from the ’80s, somehow it worked and he became a legend. I do not understand the ’80s nor how anyone survived them.

Aside from movies, we’ve done some other cool stuff around town. Yesterday, after my interview, we finished off the baked ziti and saw Contagion, then hung around on our computers figuring out how we would conquer the rest of the solar system once our systematic victory over earth finally came to fruition. After a fabulous lunch at I Dream of Weenie (a spicy chili and salsa and jalapeno-covered hot dog with slaw and hummus), Brit had a job fair kind of thing (invite only! Apple!), so I rode with him and then stole his car and drove to the Vanderbilt side of town.

I hung out in a bookstore that was kind of a mini-Recycled, and then got a moderately-overpriced pumpkin latte at a coffee shop and sat in the corner with my laptop like a good little writer. It must be Parent Weekend at Vanderbilt, because nearly every girl was accompanied by her parents. I wrote out a brief synopsis of a screenplay I want to start writing and take a very long time to write. I want it to be big! This’ll be the one! It’ll make all of us famous! We’ll bathe in gold!

Then I battled some traffic and got back to where Brit was and scooped him up. We made our way over to Grimey’s again for a free in-store performance by the band Girls, who I had only recently been introduced to but quite enjoy. We stood in a long line out front of the store for a few minutes, and in that line was a wide assortment of Nashville’s finest and hipsteriest hipsters. Ironic mustaches, torn fishnets with ’50s sundresses, gauged ears and black-rimmed glasses, they had it all.

We were let in and found ourselves in a corner not that physically far away from the stage, but far enough (and, more importantly, behind just enough really tall dudes) that we couldn’t quite see anything. They sounded great, and every now and then a tall guy would sway this way or that and we’d be able to spot the singer or the bassist, but for the most part we perused the CDs closest to us whilst nodding along with the tunes.

When we got back to the house we watched some of the live broadcast of the performance, seeing for the first time the entire band playing even though we’d been in the store with them. Oh well, it was free, and it was fun.

We heated up some store-bought pizza, cracked open some local beers, and watched the aforementioned less-than-stellar ’80s comedy. With all of the disjointed pieces of the puzzle put into place, you’re now caught up with the events of Nashville.

Stay tuned.

 

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~ by Jon C. Forisha on September 16, 2011.

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