Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Rubin and Ed (1991), Trent Harris.


Do you have a Litmus Test movie?  This is a film you show a prospective boyfriend or girlfriend, to test their reaction: if they love it, you know it was meant to be.  If they wrinkle their nose in disgust and don't get it, time to dump 'em and keep looking.  Well, Rubin and Ed was my Litmus Test movie.

In Rubin and Ed, Crispin Glover wanders through the desert toting a dead cat in a beer cooler, trying to find the perfect burial spot (see below for said animal).  He is accompanied by Howard Hesseman, a pyramid scheme rube that needs to find a new guy to bring to his next meeting.  Can I just say that so many things can be explained by knowing this was a major top renter in the little town where I grew up.  What was even more awesome was that a couple years after this movie became part of my own lore, I met Howard Hesseman.  He was purchasing aboriginal artwork in a gallery shop and had a gorgeous red-headed woman with him.  They were both sporting large southwest silver and turquoise pieces and looked pretty mellow.  I blurted out, "You're in Rubin and Ed, that's my mom and my favourite movie ever!" (You know, not: "Hey, you're Johnny Fever!" or even: "Weren't you in Head of the Class?").  He looked shocked, and probably not just because that sentence made no sense grammatically but because who the hell ever saw Rubin and Ed, let alone chose it their favourite film (or dragged their mom into these kinds of things)?  He quickly recovered and described what an odd experience it was to have made that movie, filming in very cold weather in Utah, with a director on his first ever full-length project.  Mr Hesseman, wherever you are, you are a gentleman and your significant other was gorgeous.  As a little shop clerk, I looked in awe at the true winner in the entertainment industry -- the character actor!

Well, my prospective boyfriend didn't find the insole-sucking scene quite as hilarious as I did, and I think if I asked him today he wouldn't be able to identify Mahler's kindertotenlieder as the accompaniment to the chirping of a mournful squeaky-mouse.  But I married him anyway.  Hey!  I am an incredibly powerful salesperson climbing higher and higher up the ladder of success! SUCCESS!  SUCCESSSSSSSS!

My cat can eat a whole watermelon!

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