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TOUCHY FEELY

You must go see "TOUCHY FEELY" this weekend! Directed by the always-brilliant Lynn Shelton, this film is a hurricane of deep and messy emotions and is so, so generous of spirit. Tears and joy. Wonderful cast. After watching the film you will want to buy a one-way ticket to Seattle. Lynn Shelton is a masterful director -- the film-bard of the Pacific Northwest. I am in awe!

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David Foster Wallace

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ELEANOR FRIEDBERGER

Eleanor Friedberger's newest album -- "Personal Record" -- is wonderful. She's such an honest, insightful lyricist, and there's a real urgency to her voice. I've always been a fan (going back to the earliest Fiery Furnaces albums), but I think in getting more stripped-down and straightforward with her music, Eleanor has created something profoundly timeless and affecting. 

I found a lovely solo performance (windy afternoon, park bench) of "Stare at the Sun." It's perfect. There should be more picnic concerts on park benches, right?

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AFTERNOON DELIGHT

Jill Soloway's lovely, hilarious, moving film opens today in NYC and LA. You should go see it. Really. If you like good movies.

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THE REPLACEMENTS

The Replacements just played their first show in 22 years! Footage has appeared online --and I couldn't be more thrilled. The 'Mats (yup, that's what us nerdy super-fans call them) are one of my favorite bands, and...I will be now be planning the rest of my year based on where their other reunion shows are taking place. Consider me a groupie.

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"Short Term 12" & "Drinking Buddies"

There are so many fantastic films coming out this month, and two of my absolute favorites open tomorrow:

"Short Term 12" (directed by Destin Cretton") and Joe Swanberg's "Drinking Buddies."

Both films are generous and humane and populated with flawed, relatable characters whose hopes become our hopes -- and whose small victories feel well-earned, human-sized, and worthy of our laughter, tears, and heartfelt applause.

I've seen both these films before; I'll happily purchase tickets to see them again.

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AIN'T THEM BODIES SAINTS

One of the best movies of the year -- "AIN'T THEM BODIES SAINTS" -- opens in theaters tomorrow. I'm so excited to watch it again. Writer/director David Lowery has crafted a gorgeous film that exists outside of time. Look for this movie. Take someone you love. Perhaps I'll see you in the theater!

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Some of my favorite coming-of-age films

I made a list of some of my favorite coming-of-age films. As soon as I made the list, I thought of another 25 films I wanted to include. There's obviously no science to this. It's utterly arbitrary. And I'm happy for people to disagree with me. That's what "best of" lists are for, right?

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/james-ponsoldt/25-best-coming-of-age-films-james-ponsoldt_b_3739551.html

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Err in the direction of kindness

George Saunders' beautiful convocation speech for the Syracuse University class of 2013:

"Down through the ages, a traditional form has evolved for this type of speech, which is: Some old fart, his best years behind him, who, over the course of his life, has made a series of dreadful mistakes (that would be me), gives heartfelt advice to a group of shining, energetic young people, with all of their best years ahead of them (that would be you).

And I intend to respect that tradition.

Now, one useful thing you can do with an old person, in addition to borrowing money from them, or asking them to do one of their old-time “dances,” so you can watch, while laughing, is ask: “Looking back, what do you regret?”  And they’ll tell you.  Sometimes, as you know, they’ll tell you even if you haven’t asked.  Sometimes, even when you’ve specifically requested they not tell you, they’ll tell you.

So: What do I regret?  Being poor from time to time?  Not really.  Working terrible jobs, like “knuckle-puller in a slaughterhouse?”  (And don’t even ASK what that entails.)  No.  I don’t regret that.  Skinny-dipping in a river in Sumatra, a little buzzed, and looking up and seeing like 300 monkeys sitting on a pipeline, pooping down into the river, the river in which I was swimming, with my mouth open, naked?  And getting deathly ill afterwards, and staying sick for the next seven months?  Not so much.  Do I regret the occasional humiliation?  Like once, playing hockey in front of a big crowd, including this girl I really liked, I somehow managed, while falling and emitting this weird whooping noise, to score on my own goalie, while also sending my stick flying into the crowd, nearly hitting that girl?  No.  I don’t even regret that.

In seventh grade, this new kid joined our class.  In the interest of confidentiality, her Convocation Speech name will be “ELLEN.”  ELLEN was small, shy.  She wore these blue cat’s-eye glasses that, at the time, only old ladies wore.  When nervous, which was pretty much always, she had a habit of taking a strand of hair into her mouth and chewing on it.

So she came to our school and our neighborhood, and was mostly ignored, occasionally teased (“Your hair taste good?” – that sort of thing).  I could see this hurt her.  I still remember the way she’d look after such an insult: eyes cast down, a little gut-kicked, as if, having just been reminded of her place in things, she was trying, as much as possible, to disappear.  After awhile she’d drift away, hair-strand still in her mouth.  At home, I imagined, after school, her mother would say, you know: “How was your day, sweetie?” and she’d say, “Oh, fine.”  And her mother would say, “Making any friends?” and she’d go, “Sure, lots.”

Sometimes I’d see her hanging around alone in her front yard, as if afraid to leave it.

And then – they moved.  That was it.  No tragedy, no big final hazing.

One day she was there, next day she wasn’t.

End of story.

Now, why do I regret that?  Why, forty-two years later, am I still thinking about it?  Relative to most of the other kids, I was actually pretty nice to her.  I never said an unkind word to her.  In fact, I sometimes even (mildly) defended her.

But still.  It bothers me. So here’s something I know to be true, although it’s a little corny, and I don’t quite know what to do with it:

What I regret most in my life are failures of kindness. 

Those moments when another human being was there, in front of me, suffering, and I responded…sensibly.  Reservedly.  Mildly.

Or, to look at it from the other end of the telescope:  Who, in your life, do you remember most fondly, with the most undeniable feelings of warmth?

Those who were kindest to you, I bet.

It’s a little facile, maybe, and certainly hard to implement, but I’d say, as a goal in life, you could do worse than: Try to be kinder.

Now, the million-dollar question:  What’s our problem?  Why aren’t we kinder?

Here’s what I think:

Each of us is born with a series of built-in confusions that are probably somehow Darwinian.  These are: (1) we’re central to the universe (that is, our personal story is the main and most interesting story, the only story, really); (2) we’re separate from the universe (there’s US and then, out there, all that other junk – dogs and swing-sets, and the State of Nebraska and low-hanging clouds and, you know, other people), and (3) we’re permanent (death is real, o.k., sure – for you, but not for me).

Now, we don’t really believe these things – intellectually we know better – but we believe them viscerally, and live by them, and they cause us to prioritize our own needs over the needs of others, even though what we really want, in our hearts, is to be less selfish, more aware of what’s actually happening in the present moment, more open, and more loving.

So, the second million-dollar question:  How might we DO this?  How might we become more loving, more open, less selfish, more present, less delusional, etc., etc?

Well, yes, good question.

Unfortunately, I only have three minutes left.

So let me just say this.  There are ways.  You already know that because, in your life, there have been High Kindness periods and Low Kindness periods, and you know what inclined you toward the former and away from the latter.  Education is good; immersing ourselves in a work of art: good; prayer is good; meditation’s good; a frank talk with a dear friend;  establishing ourselves in some kind of spiritual tradition – recognizing that there have been countless really smart people before us who have asked these same questions and left behind answers for us.

Because kindness, it turns out, is hard – it starts out all rainbows and puppy dogs, and expands to include…well,everything.

One thing in our favor:  some of this “becoming kinder” happens naturally, with age.  It might be a simple matter of attrition:  as we get older, we come to see how useless it is to be selfish – how illogical, really.  We come to love other people and are thereby counter-instructed in our own centrality.  We get our butts kicked by real life, and people come to our defense, and help us, and we learn that we’re not separate, and don’t want to be.  We see people near and dear to us dropping away, and are gradually convinced that maybe we too will drop away (someday, a long time from now).  Most people, as they age, become less selfish and more loving.  I think this is true.  The great Syracuse poet, Hayden Carruth, said, in a poem written near the end of his life, that he was “mostly Love, now.”

And so, a prediction, and my heartfelt wish for you: as you get older, your self will diminish and you will grow in love.  YOU will gradually be replaced by LOVE.   If you have kids, that will be a huge moment in your process of self-diminishment.  You really won’t care what happens to YOU, as long as they benefit.  That’s one reason your parents are so proud and happy today.  One of their fondest dreams has come true: you have accomplished something difficult and tangible that has enlarged you as a person and will make your life better, from here on in, forever.

Congratulations, by the way.

When young, we’re anxious – understandably – to find out if we’ve got what it takes.  Can we succeed?  Can we build a viable life for ourselves?  But you – in particular you, of this generation – may have noticed a certain cyclical quality to ambition.  You do well in high-school, in hopes of getting into a good college, so you can do well in the good college, in the hopes of getting a good job, so you can do well in the good job so you can….

And this is actually O.K.  If we’re going to become kinder, that process has to include taking ourselves seriously – as doers, as accomplishers, as dreamers.  We have to do that, to be our best selves.

Still, accomplishment is unreliable.  “Succeeding,” whatever that might mean to you, is hard, and the need to do so constantly renews itself (success is like a mountain that keeps growing ahead of you as you hike it), and there’s the very real danger that “succeeding” will take up your whole life, while the big questions go untended.

So, quick, end-of-speech advice: Since, according to me, your life is going to be a gradual process of becoming kinder and more loving: Hurry up.  Speed it along.  Start right now.  There’s a confusion in each of us, a sickness, really:selfishness.  But there’s also a cure.  So be a good and proactive and even somewhat desperate patient on your own behalf – seek out the most efficacious anti-selfishness medicines, energetically, for the rest of your life.

Do all the other things, the ambitious things – travel, get rich, get famous, innovate, lead, fall in love, make and lose fortunes, swim naked in wild jungle rivers (after first having it tested for monkey poop) – but as you do, to the extent that you can, err in the direction of kindness.  Do those things that incline you toward the big questions, and avoid the things that would reduce you and make you trivial.  That luminous part of you that exists beyond personality – your soul, if you will – is as bright and shining as any that has ever been.  Bright as Shakespeare’s, bright as Gandhi’s, bright as Mother Theresa’s.  Clear away everything that keeps you separate from this secret luminous place.  Believe it exists, come to know it better, nurture it, share its fruits tirelessly.

And someday, in 80 years, when you’re 100, and I’m 134, and we’re both so kind and loving we’re nearly unbearable, drop me a line, let me know how your life has been.  I hope you will say: It has been so wonderful.

Congratulations, Class of 2013.

I wish you great happiness, all the luck in the world, and a beautiful summer."

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Become art.

I've been watching this video non-stop all weekend. I find Jay-Z's performance (and its backstory) really, really inspiring. And the message seems simple, pure, and empowering:

Become art.

It doesn't get much better than that.

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Roger Ebert

Roger Ebert taught me how to appreciate movies. How to talk about them. How to argue about them. How to write about them.

Ebert loved movies. He was a passionate advocate for the movies he adored. And he wouldn't hesitate to take down necessary targets. 

Growing up in the 1980's and 90's, I watched Roger Ebert and Gene Siskel on TV with a near-religious fervor. Often, watching the two of them debate was more fun than watching the movies themselves.

Roger Ebert passed away earlier this year. He'd been sick for a while.

I never met Ebert, but I had the incredible good fortune to have Roger review two of my films in less than a year. Even more miraculously, he liked them both.

It's hard to express how humbling it was to have a hero review my work -- and how stunned I was that Ebert liked both "SMASHED" and "THE SPECTACULAR NOW."

"THE SPECTACULAR NOW" was one of the final films Roger Ebert reviewed. And he gave it four stars. I don't mean to sound boastful. Because truly, if I never make another film in my life, having Roger Ebert seriously engage with a film of mine will be one of the high-points of my creative life. 

There will never be another Roger Ebert. He wrote from the heart, thought deeply, and the quality of his criticism was unparalleled. Ebert was a tough critic. But to have him as a champion? Every director's wildest dream.

http://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/the-spectacular-now-2013

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Soundtrack for "THE SPECTACULAR NOW" out TODAY!

The soundtrack for our film was released today and, in addition to Rob Simonsen's BEAUTIFUL score, it features songs from a few of my favorite musicians, including Kurt Vile, Phosphorescent, and Ariel Pink. Check out the soundtrack on iTunes today!

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We open in ONE WEEK!

August 2nd. NYC and LA. Please tell your friends. We expand in the following weeks. Info on theaters/tickets here:

http://spectacularnowmovie.com/tickets

THANK YOU!

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Outtake kiss

This take didn't wind up in the finished version of "THE SPECTACULAR NOW," but I've always loved the image. It's from one of my favorite scenes in the film.

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It's Monday morning...

...and it's time for "Silly Love Songs."

What's wrong with that? Huh? I'd like to know.

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New EARL SWEATSHIRT: Hive

Yes. Just...yes.

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WASHED OUT: It All Feels Right

Washed Out always sounds like the perfect music for a dreamy, drowsy, hot summer afternoon. Ernest Greene (the man behind the Washed Out moniker) is from Georgia and went to school at the University of Georgia, so it seemed perfect to use one of his songs in the Athens-set "The Spectacular Now" ("Amor Fati" plays from a stereo during a sun-drenched riverside keg party scene).

The new Washed Out single, "It All Feels Right," captures the same warm romantic vibe, perfect for beach parties, cruising with the windows down, or listening to with oversized headphones in your bedroom with the AC cranked up high.