Last night I had a dream about Ethan Hawke. I do not know why I dreamt about him, but eventually my psyche was purging the leftovers of the crush I had on him when I was 19 and thick on the throes of my greasy man phase.
I interviewed Mr. Hawke last year when his film adapation of his novel, The Hottest State, came out. I've heard that sometimes he can not be the best interview, but he was quite game and up for it this time--likely because it was an indie that he directed from a book he wrote, so he obviously really cared about the project.
However, while we were waiting for them to set the cameras and all that, I mentioned to him that my grandmother's best friend, Gertrude (of course), was the grandmother of his friend -- the playwright Jonathan Marc Sherman--a friend with whom, amongst other things, did a quick cameo in The Hottest State. When I was in high school, I'd seen (and loved) this play by Sherman called Women and Wallace--fairly autobiographical, about a guy whose mother kills herself when he's a child and the ripple effects it has in his life, his relationships with women, etc. I saw it at Festival (aka The New England High School Drama Festival--a competition for the drama nerds such as myself) and immediatley loved it.
Well, fast forward a couple of years and I discover that Sherman, this playwright I totally revere, is Gertrude's grandson. Gertrude, whom my grandmother had shlepped me and my cousins to visit all the time as kids. What's more, my aunt was actually besties with his mother and was even in her wedding--the very same mother who did kill herself and inspired the play, etc. etc. Oh, how it all comes full circle.
So, I give a very abbreviated version of this to Ethan Hawke. He initially is skeptical, asks me where I'm from (Boston), Gertrude's last name, etc. When I have provided sufficient info, he suddenly realizes I'm legit and goes, 'That's why he's always so into the Red Sox!"
Then we do the interview on camera, he's lovely, blah blah. And when our four minutes are up, he is so psyched to get right back into talking about JMS--gets up out of his chair to keep talking to me, walks me out, tells me how great a playwright JMS is, that he had a bit of a writer's block for a while, but has finally just written something else great the he (Ethan) is going to be directing in the fall, that I should come see it, etc.
In short, it was pretty damn cool. I promptly got my car out of valet and called my best friend from high school and gushed about how nice he was to me. Another one of those days you wish you could package up in a time machine and send back to your angst-ridden teenage self so you know things will work out.
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