A Movie Star and His Reluctant Fan
Erin Douglass
There's a movie star who rides my bus in the early evenings. Which is kind of a surprise. My bus is not fancy. He may be the first.
The man, who played one of Sean Penn's buddies in the recent film I Am Sam, gets on several stops from downtown. He boards the bus, looks to the back and sides like a pitcher scoping the game, and then sets himself down in pretty much the same spot, close to the door, every time.
I first noticed him only weeks after seeing the movie. There was a lot not to like about that film, but Sean Penn's performance was affecting, earthy, true. Same could be said for all of Penn/Sam's friends in the film, including my fellow passenger.
I wanted to lean over and thank him for a terrific performance. But then the chill wind of Old Man Politically Correct blew in and I sat back.
Because the man played someone who is mentally disabled.
Or retarded, as kids used to sneer on the playground when I was five.
And riding along with the actor across the aisle from me, I realized that perhaps this man wasn't acting as much as some of the others.
I wrestled with my desire to applaud and my fear of offending.
If motive is the best truth serum, then what did I fear? I genuinely appreciated the man's quiet performance and suspected he'd be thrilled to be singled out during his ride from one place to someplace else.
And yet...what would it feel like to be told that you played a convincing mentally disabled character, if that's what society labels you in real life?
I'm still working on the answer to that one. And listening for the right moment to approach him with a Right On.
But in the meantime, every time I spy the gentleman climbing onto the bus, dropping his token into the slot and then glancing around with his curious gaze, I smile over the heads of flirting teenagers and dozing adults and think, Go get 'em.
I can't wait to see who you play next.