My Boring-Ass Life (Revised Edition): The Uncomfortably Candid Diary of Kevin Smith (56 page)

Never mind that, in a post-
Gigli
climate, the flick managed the nearly-Herculean feat of crawling to a $25 million box office gross; the flick was still considered a failure. I mean, think about it: we were following the universally derided first Ben/Jen flick that grossed merely $6 million in its entire theatrical run. It would stand to reason, then, that
Jersey Girl
(a flick that essentially had the pre-hype of “Remember those two actors you hated so much in that massive bomb from eight months ago? Here’s another helping! Choke on it, motherfuckers!”. would fare even poorer at the box office; an
under
$6 million gross was prognosticated by some. It’d be like Warren Beatty and Dustin Hoffman releasing a new flick eight months after
Ishtar
and hoping for the best, or Mariah Carey offering the world
Glitter 2
less than a year after
Glitter
. And yet, miraculously, we got to $25 million, out-grossing
Gigli
in our opening weekend of $8 million on 1500 screens. Still, there are no silver linings to clouds in the movie biz, and a loser is a loser, great Roger Ebert review notwithstanding.

But to add to the professional misery of ‘04, I was taking far more well-deserved lumps in the comic book community for my utter unprofessionalism in not finishing not one, but
two
comic book series I’d started years prior:
Daredevil/Bullseye: Target
and, far more infamously,
Spider-Man and the Black Cat: The Evil That Men Do
. That I seemed to get something of a pass with
Target
was solely because only one issue had ever come out, compared to the three issues (ending with a cliffhanger) of
Black Cat
. That
Black Cat
fiasco haunted me for years, finally coming to a close of sorts in July ‘05, when I wrapped up the mini (or now, maxi, in terms of years it took to finish) series. The long-delayed, barely-awaited-anymore issues four, five, and six are now available. Sales were not great, but not bad either (considering the lag time of three years between issues three and four) with issues four and five charting at 31 and 33 in top 100 sales figures for the month of December. With the release of the final issue this month (and the inevitable hardcover and trade paperback down the road), I can finally put to rest this self-imposed unfortunate chapter in my short-lived comics career.

However, the tarnish will forever mark me in the comics community. All over the web, folks have called me to task for being professionally irresponsible for starting a series I took so long to finish. And while my laze was cited often and much, my
ethics
in regards to the situation were really roasted. “He got paid to write something, and he didn’t deliver” I’d read. “For that reason alone, Marvel should fire his fat ass and let another writer finish the series, and then sue fat Smith for taking the money and not delivering what fatty was contracted to do.” It was an interesting position to take on the subject, and one not entirely without merit (all the “fat” jabs notwithstanding). I
had
been paid to write scripts; wasn’t I somehow reneging on my
Black Cat
contract with Marvel Comics? Couldn’t The House of Ideas take me to task in a court of law for not living up to my agreement?

And then, yesterday, my longtime friend and Marvel Comics Editor-in-Chief Joe Quesada and I made a startling (and pretty funny) discovery.

It all started with an email exchange between me and Carol, my major domo — the woman in charge of all my finances. In putting all 2005 business to bed, I was listing all my sources of revenue for the last calendar year, so we could cross the T’s and dot the I’s on the financial books. On my list, I included scripts three, four, and five of
Black Cat
, as I’d finished those scripts, and naturally, assumed I’d been paid for them. Then, in an email from Carol, I read this...

“Regarding Marvel. I haven’t seen a comic book check for writing (versus royalties) since 11/12/02 for $4400.00 and I labeled that one
Daredevil — Target #1
.”

I wrote back that I’d check with Joe on the subject, as the checks had probably come in under some other heading or something (in the film biz, you often receive checks for your work from organizations you’ve never heard of, that are essentially loan-out companies; very rarely did I receive checks from “Miramax” — instead, the checks came from a Miramax loan-out company with a completely different title). What follows is the Instant Message exchange between Joe Quesada and I.

AIM IM with JOE QUESADA.

12:55 PM

Kevin: You there?

Joe: Yup whatup?

K: Just got an email from Carol (the biz-ness manager).

J: Uh huh.

K: Seems she never got any checks for the last three
Black Cat
scripts.

J: That’s possible, I’ll check for you.

K: From Carol “Okay, regarding Marvel. I haven’t seen a comic book check for writing (versus royalties) since 11/12/02 for $4400.00 and I labeled that one
Daredevil — Target #1
.?

J: I’ll look into it. We went all electronic so it could be that you’re not in the system.

Also, unless something different occurred while I wasn’t paying attention, I don’t think you signed any of the paperwork we sent you. Still, if there’s unpaid balances all will be taken care of.

K: What paperwork?

J: Contract we sent a long time ago.

Did you sign that?

K: Which one?

K: For
Black Cat
?

J: Yeah.

K: Because I’d imagine I had to have (signed a contract) — unless she never got any
Black Cat
checks ever.

Hmmm...

Lemme ask her.

J: LOL!

You’re lost.

Okay, here’s who Carol can contact.

Tell her to drop an e-mail to ———— and CC the following people:

——
@marvel.com

1:00 PM

——
@marvel.com

——
@marvel.com

I’m working from home today so I’ll make a call as well.

K: Cool, cool.

As per Carol: “Black who?”

J: LOL!

K: Apparently, I never got paid for any of the six scripts.

That’s pretty fucking funny, sir.

J: That’s because without the signed paperwork you never went into the system.

K: Wow. I’m an idiot.

J: We went all computerized shortly after so the minute a script is logged in some machine spits out your check.

K: Still — at least with that three-year gap, you guys never had to pay a brother.

So there it is. While I can never be excused for the insane lateness and unprofessionalism with which I handled
Spider-Man/Black Cat
, comics fans can take some small comfort in knowing that I never got paid for any of the books ‘til after the entire series was done anyway. That means no royalties (yet) on those first three issues either. Nada. Not a penny for my
Black Cat
work, heretofore. Until this moment in time, I essentially did
Spider-Man/Black Cat
for free.

Justice, in some weird manner, has been served, I guess.

Monday 27 February 2006 @ 4:22 p.m.

Wake up early and head over to Opie and Anthony show (now on XM), where I hang out the whole morning, chatting and taking calls. The gig starts off with a bang, as a couple who’re fans of the show set up a web-cam in their Long Island apartment and do some pretty nifty sucking and fucking. After they wrap, they chat with us, via the web-cam and phone. The whole thing is pretty surreal, as it’s like interactive-after-the-fact porn. Chatting up a couple you’ve just watched be physically intimate (and an attractive couple to boot) is one of those very adult situations that your teenage self’s mind would’ve been blown to hear you’d wind up doing one day, but not nearly as mind-bending as the first year of conversations you have with folks you’ve been engaged with in a three-way.

Post-ménage relationships are awfully difficult to maintain. I’ve been involved in four different threesomes and one foursome, and of all the parties involved, I still remain friendly with only two of the players (one, naturally, being Jen). There’s this fall-out involved in crossing that line that makes for awkward conversations in the light of day, once everybody’s clothes are back on, and nobody’s inside anybody else, that’s not unlike chatting up your ex, but even more delicate. Try as you might, regardless of the topics of conversation, your mind inevitably arrives at “I’ve been involved in an out-of-the-ordinary sexual situation with this person.”

The first three-way I’d ever had was with two high school friends, long after we’d graduated, on a Halloween night right around the release of
Clerks
in ‘94. It was boy/girl/boy, and while the guy and I stayed safely at either end of our friend, the whole thing was made salacious regardless, due to the fact that the woman safely separating us from any same-gender antics was engaged to a guy who wasn’t involved in our debauchery. From my vantage point behind her, I remember seeing her hand and being struck by the sight of her engagement ring-finger wrapped firmly, along with the other four ringless digits, around the cock of a guy she wasn’t set to marry within the year. I’ve had very few walks of shame in my sexual history; of the thirty plus different women I’ve been fucked by, the lion’s share of my post-coital demeanor has always been “My God, I can’t believe I get laid at all...” But that night, heading back to my Red Bank condo, all I could think was “You were just enrolled in a three-way with an engaged friend whose fiancé is on a weekend trip. In their pre-marital bed, no less. You’re going straight to hell, buddy.”

The whole night-long affair really strained the friendship after that. Whenever I’d see either of them, we didn’t really talk much (especially when, in an odd turn of events, I was forced to drop by the woman’s wedding reception months later). That’s why, with the exception of two other times, any other threesomes I’ve allowed myself to be involved in have involved total strangers or people I’d never see again.

Post-Opie and Anthony, I head back to the hotel, and Jen and I head down to the Village to do some shopping. She hits Marc Jacob’s store, and then we grab some cupcakes at the Magnolia Bakery (where I taste my first red velvet cupcake). As part of my month-old ongoing love affair with Pinto/refried beans, we hit the Caliente Cab Co. Mexican restaurant before heading back to the hotel to relax before the screening.

Around five, we head back downtown, where Jen and I hook up with Janet Maslin for a pre-show meal/drink. When Kate shows up, Jen and she retire to the bar, while Janet and I further discuss the possibility of her writing a column for the revised Movie Poop Shoot site.

An hour and change later, it’s time to head to the IFC Center for the
Clerks II
screening.

After the screening, I spend a lot of time talking to the folks from the board at
www.viewaskew.com
before Scott and I head into the adjacent bar to talk to Harvey, Michael Cole, Carla Gardini and Kelly Carmichael about a release strategy. When Harvey leaves, I chill with Mos, Mike and Carla for a bit before collecting Jen and heading back to the hotel. We stop at an all-night bakery next to the Westin Times Square, grab some late-night chow, and retire to the room. The wife and I snack out to TV, then fall asleep around two in the morning.

Tuesday 28 February 2006 @ 4:25 p.m.

Jen and I are up at the crack of dawn, packing and showering before catching our ride to JFK for the 8 a.m. flight home.

If you’ve gotta fly from one coast to the other, and you’ve got the scratch, I can’t recommend the United P.S. flight enough. It’s the closest domestic equivalent to the Virgin Atlantic flights, and their awesome First Class pod seats that turn into flat-out beds, complete with sheets and a comforter. The United P.S. first class cabin (which you can only take between JFK and LAX, and JFK and San Francisco) offers not only these easy-sleepers, but they have power outlets that allow you to plug your computer’s AC cord into the chair, without the bother of an airline adapter. This is the standard all US first class flights should be held to, if the airlines are gonna have the balls to charge as much as they do.

We land, collect our bags, and head out to the curb where Byron picks us up.

At home, we chill with Harley for a bit and relax, checking email and watching TV. John Pierson and I confirm plans to host a midnight screening of
House Party
at the world-famous Alamo Drafthouse in Austin, following John’s master class on Monday. I throw the invite up on the board to let any Texas-area folks in on the fun.

At night, Gail, Byron and I head over to the Sony lot for a friends and family screening of
Catch & Release
. I see Juliette Lewis again, for the first time since we wrapped in Vancouver, as well as Sam Jaeger, Susannah Grant, and Jenno Topping. The flick turned out great, but Susannah says she wants to tinker with it more, now that she’s got ‘til January’s theatrical release.

I get home and Jen’s already asleep, so I watch some tube, check my email and the board, and fall asleep to a
Law & Order
.

The
Clerks II
screening

Wednesday 1 March 2006 @ 12:48 p.m.

Monday night, we showed
Clerks II
to an audience for the second time. It really couldn’t have gone better than it did: laughter in all the right places, gutpunched silence in others. So delighted to know that the flick works for more people than just me.

The two highlights of the night...

1) Bob Weinstein (who hadn’t seen the flick before) gushing after the screening, insisting it was the best flick we’ve made thus far. Bob is not normally an effusive guy, but he was so wonderfully dialed-into the flick and he expressed what I’ve thought for a while now:
Clerks II
takes the best elements and stand-out stuff from our six previous flicks and puts them to work in a cohesive, ultimately satisfying fashion, under one roof. Bob said, “It’s like watching a movie where the filmmaker puts everything they’ve learned over a decade into one movie, and it works on every level.” That made me feel terrific, considering the source.