Whatever Happened To…Gene Wilder

Gene_Wilder_1970

There are actors and there are, sorry, there is, Gene Wilder. He stands out in my mind, always has done, since I first saw him in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (1971) when I was a kid. I’m not putting down the Bratt Pitt’s of this world, they have a place too, but there really is something special about Gene Wilder.

He started life as Jerome Silberman, in Milwaukee, Wisconsin born to a Russian Jewish immigrant father and a Russian Jewish descent mother. His first movie role was as a hostage in Bonnie & Clyde. (1967). Wilder is best known, or should be best known for his movies with director/producer/actor Mel Brooks. Mel Brooks is a creative inspiration. He was an influence to me, as a thirteen years old, who constantly imbibed his movies at that age. I must say at this point, many thanks to our next door neighbours who had all his films AND a video recorder in 1982. I didn’t have drugs or sex but I went somewhere other teenagers in my town never would have had the chance to go. I will never forget how blessed I was, much appreciated.

I use the word genius sometimes when talking about Mel Brooks but we all know the term is overused and most times, not deservedly so.  When we ascribe the word ‘genius’ to someone, we are really describing out favourite pudding, which is very subjective and self indulgent, a pleasure best taken alone and with a bib.

Wilder’s breakthrough role was his sublime interpretation of Leo Bloom in Mel Brook’s The Producers (1968) He was also in Blazing Saddles (1974) Sherlock Holmes’ Smarter Brother (1975)  If you haven’t seen Sherlock Holmes’ Smarter Brother, you haven’t lived. I would not want you to leave this world without a verse or two and certainly a chorus, of Kangaroo Hop jumping through your mind and eye. It makes drugs, alcohol and fine food permanently unfashionable in comparison.

Young Frankenstein (1974) is another must see, more so, actually, a very funny, well acted, well directed, well produced movie, which I recommend wholeheartedly. If you haven’t already seen it, it should be on your Bucket List, needs to be.

Gene also did some great movies with that comic genius, (Ooh, let’s not go there, favourite pudding) Richard Pryor, an extremely talented but tortured comic if ever there was one.

Wilder collaborated  with Pryor on Silver Streak. (1976) I audio taped this from T.V, at age thirteen, about a year before dad was able to afford a video recorder. Oh gosh, I sound old but I  listened to it, over and over, on that little tinny tape recorder. I had to resort to imagining the visuals each time. Sad I know, but we worked for our pleasure in those days.

Wilder also acted with Pryor on Stir Crazy (1980), Hear No Evil, See No Evil (1989) and Another You (1991).

Gene also  directed and starred in his own movies including ‘Woman In Red, (1984) and Haunted Honeymoon (1986) which he also wrote, along with Terence Marsh.

Gene Wilder has also written an autobiography entitled ‘Kiss Me Like A Stranger‘ and also several novels including, ‘My French Whore: A Love Story.’

But we’re not getting anywhere here, are we really? It’s all very fine to talk about and reminiscence over the greatness that was Gene Wilder’s past but what about his present, as an 82 year old man, what is Gene doing now?

Well, he starred in two episodes of Will and Grace  as Mr. Stein in 1998 but he was also a voice over in Yo Gabba Gabba as Elmer, as recent as 2015, so he’s still keeping his hand in.

The thing is, Gene has been there and done that. He’s an octogenarian, probably wanting a bit of peace and quiet. Well, it’s not uncommon at that age. Whatever he does now in the celebrity world, he does because he wants to. I always wanted to act with Gene Wilder. He was my silly girlish fantasy in those terms because there was something intrinsically human and innocent in his performances, as well as passionate of course. I always thought his passion burst out of him during his roles, but he hadn’t actually meant for it to get so out there, so out of control. He’s an actor who, after the final take, might or might not be genuinely surprised and shocked at the depth of his own emotion. I could never imagine that, after his performances, he could ever think otherwise. He was so natural and dare I say, so full of volcanic sexual tension, that his performance could never be premeditated. I don’t see that in the actors of today but maybe I’m looking in the wrong places.

Let’s take something as simple as his role in Willy Wonka. My mother recently, unexpectedly, and treacherously declared, that she preferred the remake. Astounded, I asked her how, why and when? She just said she liked it better. While I love Johnny Depp to bits and think he’s an awesome actor, I did not rate the remake.

Let’s look at The Tunnel Scene that Marilyn Manson spoofs so wonderfully with his Dope Hat musical version, a fitting, if not slightly more macabre tribute to the original film. It works but what works more is Gene Wilder’s performance, which no doubt helped inspired ‘Dope Hat’. His acting is unpredictable, exciting, terrifying, psychopathic, passionate, chaotic but most of all, authentic. These are all the things that maybe an actor should be, yet not as a person should be and I think that encompasses Gene Wilder, a beautiful, serene and thoughtful person off camera and an incredibly powerful and unique actor on camera. While I’m still not sure exactly what happened to Gene Wilder, I believe, hope, think and trust, that he will always be that.

 

 

 

Evil Twin

I had known my evil twin had been around for a while. Strangers had been staring at me and whispering for years, looking terrified and disgusted at the same time, as if I’d done some unspeakable act.

Then one day, while buying some milk at my local store, I ran into the bitch. I was trembling and sweating as I hurried home. She was already sitting there, with her hand on my husbands knee. He looked happier than I’d ever seen him and somehow younger than usual. She was smiling in that confident, self assured way, that I’d never known when I looked into the mirror.

My husband stood up quickly.He was suddenly in a panic to see the two of us. If I’d have been gone any longer, maybe the unthinkable would have happened. It wasn’t a long haul to the bedroom. After he had calmed down a little and was up to speed on the situation, he went into the kitchen. “I’m going to make a cup of tea. (He’s British) We’ll sort this out when I get back.”

My twin approached me. Even though we were wearing the same clothes, hers somehow looked better.She walked like a model, shoulders back, head held high.

She read my mind. “I’m surprised he hasn’t seen the differences already. I love my life but you’re afraid of it. You’re weighed down with the cares of the world and closed off from the joys of it. You are always trying to squeeze into the smallest darkest space, like a mouse, in a hole.”

I ran to my defence, with a shrug. “I always thought I was okay.”

She chuckled. “Okay, yes. Nice, yes. If you had more balls like me, you’d be a Cinderella that actually went to the ball, instead of sitting at home, poking the coals.”

“Poking the coals is underrated.” I said. My husband returned from the kitchen. He downed his steaming hot tea in one go. (I don’t know how he does that).”Okay, which one of you is my wife?”

There was a silence. She looked at me as if to say, ‘He’ll never believe you. I’ve already done the ground work.” The only sound at that moment was my heart breaking as I looked at his kind and beautiful face.

If, by some supernatural event, I’d been forced to swap places and was now the evil twin, anything was possible. I did not have the confines of my other moral self to worry about. So now, I had only one decision to make. What unspeakable act should I commit first?

It was time to kill myself.

I moved towards her, staring at her lily white neck and flexing my bare hands. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with them. My husband jumped up and ran into my arms. I saw my evil twin visibly wither, until, with a contorted, twisted and bitter look on her face, she disappeared into thin air.

“She won’t be bothering us again.” he said.

I looked at him in surprise. “How did you know?”

“It was just one thing, one physical difference to show the true nature, the true condition of the soul, something that couldn’t be disguised, one thing she was unable to hide or deceive me by. It was the eyes.”

 

© Sue Young

 

 

 

 

Celebrity Demands

As a top celebrity, I don’t have to explain my dressing room demands to you. I just tell you what I want and you give it to me, okay?

Do I make myself clear? Am I being too much of a diva? What did you say? I can read lips you know. You just called me a spoilt bitch. Oh yes you did. What? I misheard? There’s been a hitch? Okay, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. What’s the hitch?

No crates of beer? Now you listen to me, get me that beer or your name will be history in this town. Do you hear me – history! What was that? Oh, you’ll get me what I want. Now that’s more like it. That makes sense. Smart move.

Well now. Let’s see. I’d like champagne, a crate of beer for the crew. I love my crew. I love them like children. I want a four poster bed with red silk sheets scattered with rose petals, orchids in each corner of the room, a bag of toiletries…

(She went on and on, and eventually..)

Ah, I see you brought everything, the bed, the sheets, the orchids. Now get out. I vant to be alone. Did you hear what I said? I said it with a ‘V’, that’s serious. We’re not kidding around here.

My, my, you are a cheeky one.Well, normally, I’d have security take you by the scruff of the neck and haul you out of here for such talk but I do like gophers with spirit, preferably whiskey and coke. Ha ha. I said ha ha! I made a joke, you idiot – laugh!

There, that’s more like it. I can see your tonsils. Well done.

Okay, I’ll tell you why I demanded all these things for my dressing room. First of all, I need the alcohol because I’m an alcoholic. I’m a famous artist and most of us are alcohol fuelled because we’re tortured, tortured I tell you! The grape and the grain keep us going.

Now, I need the flowers because I like nature. Nothing beats the sight and smell of fresh flowers. The red bed is there to stimulate me enough so I won’t fall asleep before or after a show. It’s a lounging bed people. Plus, red is hot. My superstar friends will also be suitably stimulated by my red bed. It’ll get them in the party mood for my after show soiree.

Lastly, is the bag of toiletries, toiletry products are a must. Cleanliness is next to Godliness and I want you to think I’m clean but I’m a dirty little thing really. Anyway, I need to be fresh at least before and after my show.

There. I’ve told you now, satisfied? I’ll give you the rest of the dawn off because I’m such a generous person. What? Wait! What did you just call me? Oh, a cult!

Awww, that’s very sweet of you. I do believe I’m one of the biggest cults in the business.

 

© Sue Young

 

 

Odd Socks & Autographs

Once again, I’d taken the socks out of the dryer and found an odd one. I told myself, this time, I wouldn’t get frustrated or annoyed. This time I would know where the odd sock had gone.

I put a micro camera in each of the socks. I would be able to track where any missing sock had gone. I played back the footage from my computer…

Red Sock was astounded. “But I don’t think I’ve got what it takes to be a star.”

“Nonsense” said Rough Wool Khaki Sock. “We’ll train you up. Besides, that bright red colour of yours, is just what we’re looking for.”

Red Sock gulped. “But…I had a partner.”

“Oh yes.” said Rough Wool Khaki Sock. “That’s true. We come in pairs, but you’re in the real world now. You’re not a pair any more.”

“But we belong together!” wailed Red Sock in a panic.

Rough Wool Khaki Sock sighed and put his ribbed cuff around Red’s shoulders. His voice became a soothing whisper. “Look, that other red sock of yours isn’t as good as you. He is faded, was left out on the window sill on a summers day. He can’t hack it. There’s nothing we can do for him now. He’ll probably end up in an old socks home. Now, do you want to be a star or not?”

“Of course I want to be a star.”

“Well then, follow me into the Academy. It’s this way.”

As Rough Wool Khaki Sock hopped away, Red Sock escaped and fled into the dryer, where he found one damp, depressed and slightly faded red sock right at the back of it. He smiled happily and snuggled close. “I’m back!” he said. “I’m so glad we’re together again!”

“So am I.” said Faded Red Sock.

Well, this was puzzling. If the two socks were together, then how come I was sitting there still looking at one red sock. I checked the back of the dryer. there was nothing there. Then I noticed there was still some footage left on the camera…

Slinky Silk Sock wrapped her instep around Faded Red Sock. “You’re just what I’m looking for to be in my new musical ‘Almost Pink’. I’m going to make you a star!”

© Sue Young

 

 

 

 

 

Quote Of The Week

‘Some people believe that by writing down dreams, ambitions and intentions they can come true, because in a way you are sowing a seed into your consciousness, which enables even the smallest intention to take root.’

Toyah Willcox – Diary Of A Facelift

Limiting Belief

Your limiting belief may be skulking outside, just behind the door, in the dark. Some of them like the dark. That’s where they feels safe. Or, your limiting belief may be a right show off, does five minutes when the fridge door opens and a ten minute routine when your relatives come round, complete with top hat, cane and dickie bow. Doesn’t matter that it looks like a dick. It doesn’t care. It likes dickie bows. It likes looking like a dick.

Your limiting belief may even be inside you. A bit like that Alien movie with Sigourney Weaver and John Hurt. You’ve got this foreign body inside you, only it’s not the least bit pleasurable. And it doesn’t always wants to burst out of you, it likes the warmth too much.

Would it be difficult to ignore this mucus covered fiend waiting impatiently in your stomach? All it ever threatens to do is gut you like a fish, gore and intestines everywhere but it doesn’t really want to do that. Not really.

Because that would mean getting rid of it.

Its power lies in the anticipation, the fear. And like any other expert bluffer, the limiting belief often depends on us just pretending it’s nothing more than indigestion. And so it stays there, painfully repeating, but there is no heartburn remedy or decongestant available that can shift this.

‘The opportunities that we pass up (through limited belief) stop us taking risks that we don’t want to take. We simply say we can’t and we’re off the hook.’

The NLP Masters – Judy Bartkowiak

 

According to some schools of thought, you’re not supposed to blast your limiting belief into smithereens, you’re not supposed  to medicate it, or fight it using psychological warfare. No, none of these things. You are supposed to write a letter to it, as if, it were a person. Your mother, your father, an ex lover, an ex friend, maybe it’s all of these and none of these. Maybe our limiting belief is unique and we can’t cannot connect or relate it to anyone else. Limiting belief, you’re an alien, no, you’re a demon at the end of my bed. I believe you can read. I believe you learned your letters at limiting belief school. You’re clever. But it’s what you will do after you get the letter. That’s what’s important. What will you do then?

Maybe it doesn’t matter what it does. Maybe that’s the point. Hey, limiting belief, you can rip it up without reading it, you can mock it and laugh over it with friends, or you can sit and re read it time and time again crying into a glass of Chardonnay, or you may never open the letter at all. It may just go unopened into a drawer, because you’re afraid of what’s in it.

So that’s it guys, you have to write a letter to your limited belief, if you have one, whatever that may be.

Oh okay, I wouldn’t ask you to do anything I wouldn’t do myself. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours etc. Ahem.

Dear Limiting Belief, Please stay away and don’t ever come back. I am much happier without you. I’m more sociable for one thing. I’m like a completely different person. I don’t recognise myself. I can do so much without you and nothing is impossible. Everything is possible and then some. Don’t contact me ever again. X

 

I don’t know why I gave it a kiss. For old times sake I guess.