My Boring-Ass Life (Revised Edition): The Uncomfortably Candid Diary of Kevin Smith (34 page)

Monday 4 July 2005 @ 4:52 p.m.

On our nation’s 229th birthday, I’m going to work.

Wake up, check email in the shitter, take a shower, and head to set.

The rain has moved us to weather cover, so we’re at the stage again. The extent of my performance today involves me sleeping on a couch while two other actors do all the dialogue. God, I love my job.

I’m in the first set-up, and when we’re done, I head back to my trailer and watch the end of
Metropolitan
, then get started on
The Daily Show
DVD box set,
Indecision ‘‘04
. I love Jon Stewart, Stephen Colbert, Rob Corddry, Ed Helms, and Samantha Bee. Even though the “fake news” is almost a year old, it’s still hilarious.

The decision is made that I’m not gonna be in the background of anymore shots for the day, so I’m wrapped around four, and back to the hotel. We have family dinner at Byron and Gail’s apartment (steak and sausage), and Harley talks about her Arts Umbrella Camp program, including day one of Tennis Camp. The idea of my uncoordinated kid playing tennis amuses me to no end.

After dinner, Harley and I play a couple games of Pick-Up Sticks, then launch into Tickle-Monster for awhile before Jen puts her to bed with a book-reading session.

After Harley’s asleep, Jen and I retire to the living room. Jen has gotten into the box set of the new Kirstie Alley show
Fat Actress
, and she’s insisting I’ll dig it. After two eps, I’m in. It’s weird, funny, and just out there.

We watch until eleven, playing Rummy, and then move it into the bedroom, falling asleep to disc two.

Tuesday 5 July 2005 @ 4:53 p.m.

Get up, shit and check email, shower, and race off to the stage again. The work today involves a continuation of yesterday’s scene: I sleep on a couch. There’s a question whether I’ll even be on camera, though, so I don’t get into makeup, hair or costume immediately.

Around 9 a.m., Lara and Sus from the Canadian
Entertainment Tonight
-like show
e-Talk Daily
come by the trailer. Lara, who I’ve done a piece with in the past, has been kind enough to come out west (she’s based in Toronto) to shoot a couple of pieces pimping the Q&A gig. We shoot a piece in my trailer, and then make plans to shoot another at the Vogue if I’m wrapped early enough.

When the
e-Talk
crew goes, I continue watching
The Daily Show
box set, until I get the word around one that I won’t be in any of the remaining shots.

Margaret comes to the trailer to say g’bye. She’s cutting out of
Catch
early to start another show. I give her a hug and she tells me she’ll see me at the Q&A on Saturday. After that, I pack up and head back to the hotel.

Harley’s back from Pony Camp, so we chill with her for a while. I call Lara to tell her I’m available to shoot at the Vogue, if Jon-Paul can open the place up for us. She confirms a 5:15 p.m. shoot at the Vogue, to which Gail then adds a photo shoot with a photographer from
The Province
, to accompany Sorelle Saidman’s piece that runs on Thursday.

I check email ‘til I get a call from my agent Phil. Turns out I’m in trouble again for revealing too much in the diary. The passage in question is this...

The rest of the day is spent getting into and out of the car. Susannah adds a little campfire bit, during which Josh and I improvise a lightsaber duel (the kid LOVES
Star Wars
). It’s an unscripted, undialogued scene, so during the three takes, we’re supposed to have a conversation amongst ourselves. I’m flabbergasted at how lost everyone gets without a script — me included. I throw out a convo starter to Tim-as-Fritz, and get nothing, and I mean N-O-T-H-I-N-G, back in return — so much so that I have to work his stoic silence into the scene, lest it be weird. When we cut, I harass him about leaving me in the acting equivalent of a hanging high-five, and he tells me he was thinking about a few different responses and wound up going with none. All three takes are funny in how quiet they are, but drop the sound out and cover ’em up with music in a montage piece, and they’d be totally usable.

The fear is that the above can be construed as me saying “The actors in this movie suck”. Only a moron would interpret that from the above paragraph. Anyone who reads this diary on a regular basis knows about my affinity for the entire cast of
Catch & Release
; shit, you can go back and READ the gushing shit I’ve previously written about all of them. I’ve gone on record as saying that I could watch Tim Olyphant read the phone book, I think he’s such a great actor — and even THAT has gotten me spanked, because the studio feels it’s sighting one actor above the others. I can’t believe this shit sometimes, man. But for Jenno’s sake, here goes...

The above story about the ad-libbing was in no way, shape, or form, meant as anything more than a humorous anecdote. Tim and I thought it was funny that day. Susannah thought it was funny, too. It is funny. It was one of those awesome human moments. It should not reflect poorly on what’s already a wonderful flick (as I’ve pointed out many times in this diary); it should be taken as it was presented: as something funny that happened in the course of making a movie. Because making a movie IS fun — and I’ve always been about letting the audience in on that fun with stuff like the board at our website and now this diary. But because it makes folks on the studio side nervous when I write about the fun of making
Catch & Release
, or when I talk about how good I think the cast or director is, I’m just gonna knock it off. From here on in, all
Catch
entries in My Boring-Ass Life will be minimal.

At 5:15 p.m., it’s time to go down to the Vogue. Byron drives and drops Gail, Jen, Harley and I off. We head inside, say hi to Jon-Paul and the
e-Talk
crew, and then I take the pic for
The Province
. After that, we shoot the
e-Talk
piece, then head out to family dinner at Gotham.

On the way to dinner, my pointer finger on the right hand starts aching, almost like it’s sprained or something. This escalates through dinner, to the point where we stop at London Drugs on the way home to grab a finger splint. Don’t know what I did to it, but I can’t bend my pointer without feeling a surge of pain.

We get home and Harley spends the night with Byron and Gail, while Jen and I lay down. I’m whining up a storm about my finger, and Jen plays nursemaid. We put in
Glengarry Glenn Ross
, to which I fall asleep by 10:15 p.m.

Wednesday 6 July 2005 @ 11:26 a.m.

Wake up, shit and check email, shower, then head to the stage, running late. I get to the studio post-blocking but the first shot is something we owe from a scene we didn’t get to finish a week or so ago, so I’m pretty much off camera.

I go through hair with Forest, and makeup with Deb, my new makeup person. After that, I get into costume and wait for the set call.

I head to set, and we shoot out the remaining coverage of the scene. Then, we block for the scene in the kitchen that we’ll spend most of the day shooting.

I go back to my trailer and watch more of
The Daily Show
box set, ‘til it’s time to shoot the kitchen scene. I’m called back to set, and we get into the new scene.

Between takes, Forest and I stroll to the next stage, where they just started shooting
Dungeon Siege
with Burt Reynolds and Leelee Sobieski. The rumor is they’ve got Krispy Kremes on their craft service table, and we’re in the market for some donuts.

We sneak onto the
Dungeon
set (a series of green screens and partial castle-looking sets), and spy Burt Reynolds dressed like a king or something. We mosey over to the snack table and Forest collects a quartet of donuts. Quickly, we race back to our stage, getting rid of the evidence by chowing down.

While we finish out the kitchen scene with little Josh, camera operator Henry explains podcasting to me in simple terms I can understand. We then block the last piece I’m in for the day with the female lead (studio Nervous Nellies... *sigh*). Afterwards, I chill in my trailer ‘til I’m called to shoot, finishing up
The Daily Show
box set.

We roll on the first angle of coverage for the homecoming scene, and while the crew sets up for the reverse, Forest and I saunter back to the
Dungeon Siege
set. We roll up on the craft service table, and this time, we take a whole box of Krispy Kremes. Well, Forest takes the whole box, as I’m falling back on my splinted finger as an excuse to not do the pastry purloining myself.

We get back to the
Catch
set, and share our booty with whoever’s into Krispy Kremes. All of the sudden, the craft service chick from
Dungeon Siege
is standing behind us, asking: “Did you just steal my donuts?” Midway through a jelly, I’m caught. As I start to sputter an excuse, Rob, the video assist guy, giggles, revealing that the craft service chick on
Dungeon
is his wife, and he’d ratted on us, texting her about the nipped KKs.

We shoot the reverse, and I’m wrapped for the day. I head back to my trailer and get out of my wardrobe, while watching
8 Mile
, following that up with a facial from Angela (the key makeup artist on the flick), in lieu of the now-departed (to another flick) Margaret, and a hairpiece removal and hair-washing from Forest.

I head back to the hotel, get into my woobs, and play with Harley for a bit. Jen and I both read her books in bed tonight, and then she goes to sleep. Schwalbach and I retire to our bedroom, where we watch the Bruce Willis movie,
Hostage
. When that’s over, we try to watch
Be Cool
, but can’t get through the first half hour. Instead, we rock some
Glengarry Glen Ross
to fall asleep to.

Thursday 7 July 2005 @ 2:04 p.m.

Wake up around ten, take a leak, and shit while checking email and updating the diary. I head into the living room and call down for the papers. Today, I hit the trifecta in Vancouver print media: I’m profiled in
The Province
(with a great entertainment section cover-story picture) and
The Vancouver Sun
, and get a small piece in
The Georgia Straight
.

Jen wakes up, and we chit-chat for awhile. With Harley in camp all week, we’ve got the mornings to ourselves. I sit at the desk that Jen moved into the living room yesterday, and Schwalbach sits on the couch across from me, checking her email. I jump onto iChat to go over last minute Q&A details with Ming, and I see Annie Duke online. We IM for a while, and she reveals that she’s just bought a house down the street from mine. I give her the low-down on the neighborhood and the school she can send her kids to, and ask her to dump some cash into my Ultimate Bet account.

While still in iChat, I start flirting with Schwalbach, sending her instant messages, trying to seduce her into a little late-morning fucking before the kid gets back from Arts Camp. Tenacity pays off, and soon, we’re in the bedroom, boning up a storm.

I shower, throw on the bathrobe, and head back out to the living room to continue updating the diary. Quinnster gets home from Arts Camp, and Jen takes her shopping at IGA, in preparation for Jay and Chay’s arrival tonight.

Meanwhile, I get lost in the world of Ultimate Bet once again, watching my pot rise and fall over a two-hour period. Jen and Harley get home from the store, and I still haven’t moved from my laptop. Both of them start bugging me to get dressed and head into work, as I’ve been called in to do some background work for a scene I’ve already shot with Sam. I throw on some clothes and head to the location.

Since we’re matching a scene we shot over a week ago, Susannah shows Sam and I some playback on the video tap, so we can see what we did exactly, as well as how we did it. But what she shows us isn’t just playback: she shows us the edited-together scene, fresh from Anne’s Avid. I’m tickled by what I see: Sam and I are really funny together, and visually, the scene looks great. Watching it confirms my suspicions that this flick’s gonna be really good.

When we’re done shooting, I head to the backyard at the location to shoot a few pictures with Douglas, the stills photographer. They send me back to my trailer to change outfits, and then back up to the set to do some more stills. Then, A.D. Dave tells me I’m wrapped.

I hit the trailer and continue watching
8 Mile
while getting changed. I put it on pause and head to the vanities where Forest takes off the piece and washes my hair, and my new makeup person Deb gives me a killer facial. Following that, I go back to my trailer and watch the end of
8 Mile
before heading home (I’d never seen the flick, and I wound up liking it quite a bit).

I get back to the hotel to find Jay and Chay have already arrived. We hug and chit-chat on the deck, then head inside to play poker with Gail and Byron, while Harley dances around to ‘Hollaback Girl’.

By midnight, Harley’s in bed, and Chay’s the big winner at the table. Since I’ve got to wake up at 5:00 a.m. to be in Richmond for the radio show at 5:30 a.m., I suggest to Mewes that we not go to sleep and instead head out to the River Rock Casino, which is near the radio station anyway. I kiss Jen g’night, and Mewes and I take off.

Friday 8 July 2005 @ 2:05 p.m.

Mewes and I get to the River Rock Casino at around one in the morning, and immediately head to the poker room. There’s still a decent crowd there, so we jump onto the first table we can find with an open seat: a $3/$6 No Limit. As I hit the chair, I’m dealt pocket tens, but I don’t bet aggressively: I just double the blind. We see the flop, and suddenly, a dude a few seats away from me bets up the pot. I’m prepping my chips to follow, when the dude beside him doubles the bet to fifty. I check the flop to see what’s out there, but I don’t see any flush draws or straights. The board hasn’t paired up, so nobody can be holding a boat, and even if someone has a pocket pair, their set’s not bigger than mine could be if I get another ten, as all three flop cards are single digits. The only thing either of these guys can be holding is pocket jacks or better, and I’ve still got a pretty great shot at another ten falling, so I stay in. Fourth street’s still not a face card, but the board has now paired up with eights. If the river is a ten, I’m set like a motherfucker. The two other guys bet the hand up again. I call, which takes us to the river: a king. The first guy bets fifty, and the next guy takes it to a hundred dollar bet. I’m thinking he’s bluffing, as there’s no way he was holding a king and betting as aggro as he was with those little cards on the flop and the turn. So I call, and all three of us open up. The first guy has pocket tens as well; we have the exact same hand, which would make it chop/chop, if the next guy didn’t have a fucking king. Dude was holding king/three off suit, and calling big bets with just king high. But what do I know? It worked out for him. He rakes a fat pot, and I’ve suddenly got a little under a hundred bucks left from the three hundred I just sat down with.