Dear Jake Gyllenhaal

Dear Jake Gyllenhaal,

You are not Iranian. You are not Persian either, which you may have mistaken for some different race or ethnicity, totally understandable! but it’s the same.

And I know you have really thick eyebrows and dark hair and a somewhat larger nose, but you remain white. I realize that Rodrigo Santoro played Xerxes in 300, and sure, he’s a person of color, but he’s not Iranian either. And that was wrong of him to do. It was wrong of him to be cast as Xerxes. I wonder if he found it annoying that his dark features landed him that role…? And sure, you could argue that you were just given this role to play, and there are larger powers here, like Disney, who need to be held accountable, but you do too. And let’s face it, Disney has a lot they need to fix, not just their racism.

Do you feel guilty or weird about playing an Iranian? I guess all the Iranian actors were busy playing terrorists in other movies.

Did Andy Samberg’s love song to Ahmadinejad confuse you into thinking you are Iranian?

So, did you learn Farsi, or are you taking the Oliver Stone Alexander speak jibberish route? Or did you just come up with an awesome Iranian accent? Remember, it is “up estairs” and “dats a good von!”

Since you are already in this and the movie is listed as being in post-production, I do have a word of advice for you: next time consult my dear friend Rob Schneider. His Filipino background, which I for one have never heard him speak openly about, has afforded him the right to play Middle Easterners, Latinos, Asians, and all kinds of races and ethnicities. (Interestingly enough, when Mel Gibson went all crazy and spewed hatred towards Jews, Schneider stated he would never work with Gibson. I guess Schneider can be prejudiced, but no one else can.) Schneider is really great at really milking stereotypes too. Next time you are met with the challenge of portraying a different race or ethnicity you should call him up. OR! Robert Downey Jr…he got an Oscar nomination for wearing black face.

I know it takes a lot of courage to do what you are doing. And I am sure that you will represent my people with great dignity. No Iranian could play the Prince of Persia as well as a white A-list Hollywood actor!

I hope a movie is soon made about Ahmadinejad and Mike Myers plays him. He is really awesome too.

Now that you are an honorary Iranian here are some tips:

-refer to yourself as Persian, it makes people less suspicious and does not conjure images of crazies with guns and hatred for the US

-move to LA if you do not already live there

-get a BMW or Merceds…BMW is cooler though

-wear Armani Exchange

-change your name to Ali or Mahdi or Farzad

-get stopped by airport security

-let that uni-brow grow in

-get yourself a pair of slippers for the bathroom, one for the kitchen, and another for the rest of the house

- drink a lot of tea, and perfect holding a sugar cube between your teeth while sipping it

-get some Persian rugs…and cats

-invite me to your house for NoRooz

-smoke ghalyun, or hookah

-visit your family back home

Well, those are just some few pointers I wanted to share. We are, afterall, family now.

Khoda negahdar,

Aman

p.s. I am really glad Alfred Molina worked with you on this movie. His performance in Not Without My Daughter was the best portrayal of an Iranian…until now, I am sure.

Dear Clint Eastwood

Really?

I laughed when I first saw the preview for Gran Torino. It looks like a bad made for TV movie (assuming that there are any good made for TV movies). I half expected Patty Duke to walk on set. Then again, Patty Duke tends to have better taste…even if it is of the cheesy variety.

How many more stories do we need about noble whitey saving the poor people of color? Some people, well, one person, who will remain nameless, has faith in you. This person seems to think that you are not that shallow and that there will be something deeper, some underlying message that proves you are deserving of the praise constantly showered on you.

I can see where the movie is going. You help these kids out, not because you are a good person, but because you don’t want any low-life gangsters hanging around your perfectly kept lawn…or even worse! your beautiful car. But you get to know this family, their struggles, maybe you even learn you have commonalities, and you learn that being a racist isn’t so cool, and only makes you a lonely bitter person. I bet one of those kids dies. Oh god, even better, maybe your character dies and the whole community comes to your funeral to show their love! That would be a way better ending. Kind of like that waste of space, Pay it Forward.

I know you have made a career partially based solely on that gravely voice. And hey, I am a fan. But all those Christian Bale Batman haters…where are they? How come Bale gets crap for doing something completely sane like changing his obviously distinguishable voice into one that no one can place – after all, being a caped crusader means going unrecognized! – yet no one seems to care that you use your harsh tones to try and create a more powerful impact? Maybe the voice thing is natural. I don’t know. I have only ever heard you speak in a movie role. Maybe I am taking my annoyance a little far. Really, it was an excuse to call out the Batman haters.

Well Clint, Mr. Eastwood. whatever…I hope I am wrong. I doubt it. Honestly, even if there is some deeper message, some twist away from the formula, the fact remains that you are telling a story with a tired theme. This is why I did not want to see Iron Man. While that movie was not exactly what I had expected, it kept true to that basic idea, everyone needs the white saviour. Go on with your badass Dirty Harry self and maintain the status quo.

Dear New York

Dear New York,

I know what you are trying to do. You don’t know me well.

-Aman

Dear John Malkovich

Note: I had first intended my “letters to emily” category to be a moment of reflection on the works of Emily Dickinson. After my letter to the cats, and feeling kind of inspired by Henry Rollins (I know!), I decided to make it more of an open letter to different people, places, things…

So, on to the letter.

Dear John Malkovich,

No. I realize that too many of us have left you with the impression that you are a stellar actor, but it is time that I speak up. I will give you Empire of the Sun, but let’s not kid ourselves, Christian Bale stole that film and made it amazing. And I like Being John Malkovich because it is completely absurd, makes fun of my home New Jersey, and who the hell would ever want to be you anyway? (Again, that’s why it’s funny). Let’s look at some other roles that have generally won you praise: Of Mice and Men. Personally, I get kind of annoyed when some actor is told they play retarded well. I like Sean Penn, but really? Is he really that memorable for I Am Sam? What about The Assassination of Richard Nixon? What about his directing? And I love What’s Eating Gilbert Grape, but not because of Leonardo DiCaprio. I mean, he is good in it, but there’s also the story that kinda carries the whole film, not to mention Johnny Depp.

Okay, you may also deserve some credit for In The Line of Fire. But you did play a psycho in that. And in Con-Air. You seem well-suited for those roles. That odd shaped head, somewhat sweet and thick voice with a hint of a high-pitch. Again, though, for Con-Air at least, someone else stole the show. In this case it was Steve Buscemi. The man played with Barbie dolls and talked about wearing a human head as a hat. And he wins the prize when it comes to funny looking. The Coen Brothers went with that.

Let me get to what prompted this letter in the first place: Knockaround Guys. Here is a movie, pretty bad mind you, about a group of mob kid friends who decide they want to join the family business. You, as you may or may not know, play the uncle of the main kid, played by Barry Pepper. To hear you attempt a Brooklyn accent and end up sounding like some kid whose just watched A Bronx Tale and is trying really hard to imitate what they assume to be the accent of everyone in this city, is beyond sad. Please, just…no. I have an idea, why not do what you have done in other movies that require an accent, don’t do it. In The Messenger you kept your same old John Malkovich voice, despite the efforts of others to sound French. (Vincent Cassel is French, so don’t even start the comparisons there). Even in Eragon, which I am admitting to seeing, despite the fact that it is one of the worst movies ever, you did not feel the need to use any accent. Then again, you really did not feel the need to act either. Did you know right away that you were going to treat that performance like practice for other crap roles? Did you just see it as some extra cash? Or were you fooled into thinking it would be good like those of us who shelled out $10 because, like us, you saw Rachel Weisz and Jeremy Irons in the cast and thought “hey, there is no way this can suck!” ? Is that what happened, John? You can be honest. You should know that a good cast does not mean a good film. The Messenger is a great example of that. And you should know that just because everyone says it is good, does not mean it is good. Gone Baby Gone, hello! That movie was a waste of my life. And I cannot get that time back.

Here’s the thing, you are in some post-productions that I want to see, and I will see them. But I need you to know that my attending Burn After Reading has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with The Coen Brothers. And when I buy my ticket for The Mutant Chronicles it is because the futuristic movie is about a guy who fights NecroMutants.

-aman

XIV

I had originally planned to name this blog Letters to Emily. It is a reference to my favourite Emily Dickinson poem, and a name I like to use every now and then. It was my myspace, a still un-made zine, and now a category in this blog. I figure, why not write a poem of hers here every now and then for enjoyment, or discussion, or ignore it if you like.

Emily Dickinson has that Chris McCandless sort of pull on me. Like maybe this world was just wrong, and she knew it like he knew it and I know it, only I let it hold me back. They didn’t.

I dreaded that first robin so,

But he is mastered now,

And I’m accustomed to him grown, -

He hurts a little, though.

I thought if I could only live

Till that first shout got by,

Not all pianos in the woods

Had power to mangle me.

I dared not meet the daffodils,

For fear their yellow gown

Would pierce me with a fashion

So foreign to my own.

I wishes the grass would hurry,

So when ’twas time to see,

He’d be too tall, the tallest one

Could stretch to look at me.

I could not bear the bees should come,

I wished they’d stay away

In those dim countries where they go:

What word had they for me?

They’re here, though; not a creature failed,

No blossom stayed away

In gentle deference to me,

The Queen of Calvary.

Each one salutes me as he goes,

And I my childish plumes

Lift, in bereaved acknowledgement

Of their unthinking drums.