Don't Look Back

Jimmy Stewart avoids his own life by watching others in Rear Window

15:31 was what the green LCD light on my cordless phone displayed. I had just ended a call from my dad. Fifteen minutes must be the longest conversation I have had with him in at least two years. He is a man of few words. It doesn't bother me much. It makes things easier, but I will lament the mutual silence when he is gone. Our conversation was not entirely pleasant. I had to explain all the garbage in my life right now, and hearing his skepticism at some of my plans has me second guessing.

My dad doesn't talk much, but he does have excellent taste in cinema, so when I was 13 years old and he suggested I watch Rear Window I took his advice and I have never forgotten the film since then. I still remember bringing it, all giddy with excitement, to a party in one of my fellow grade 7 student's basement. My classmates were clearly bored out of their minds and it didn't take long before the tape was yanked and replaced with Eddie Murphy's Delirious. I have seen Rear Window numerous times over the years, and think of it often.

Just this past weekend in fact, I thought of Rear Window when I came home drunk both Friday and Saturday night. My place has a pretty amazing view that wraps around the entire apartment, and while I am on the 9th floor, there are still plenty of vantage points where someone could watch me. Just like Jimmy. I rarely close the blinds. It kills the view.

Friday I helped some friends build a soundproof room in a warehouse they are renting in Chinatown. I am looking forward to the completion as it is really going to be a great place for musicians to play and hang out. But Friday they were just completing the drywall and I offered to help out. I mostly drank beer though, and by the time I left I was pretty loaded. Upon my arrival at home I proceeded to blast music and have my own little fashion show. I found myself over analyzing everything I tried on, walking back and forth in front of the mirror, rear view, side view, and lets not forget the in-motion view. This went on for over a half hour and I laughed to myself as I likened my behavior to the musician who lives across the courtyard from James Stewart's character in Rear Window. I imagined Jimmy Stewart out in the skyline of lights watching this display of drunken vanity. Surely he would be amused.

Saturday was spent hungover in bed with the phone waiting for someone, anyone, to call. It was really depressing and I felt like another one of Jimmy Stewart's neighbors in Rear Window. This time one of the female characters, the one that sets a table for two every night for dinner and cries herself to sleep, realizing she is alone.

When the night finally came I went to a theme party in an east side banquet hall. Participants were required to dress as if they were going to a prom. It was packed and everyone was dressed with the utmost authenticity. The venue was great. When I walked in the room was half empty and I felt like it was grade 12 again as I proceeded to pound back straight Jack Daniels on the rocks. No slow dances though, which I found very confusing. I left early as usual and slept through my train ride home. The door to my apartment swung open about 1:00am as I announced "Honey, I'm home!" to an empty house. I stood in the kitchen swaying back and forth while trying to eat Sapporo Ichiban noodle soup. The scene in Rear Window came to mind when the musician character comes home drunk and throws the sheet music that he has been working on to the ground. I hung up my clothes and went to sleep shortly after.

I had to get out of the house today, so I decided to see a movie of all things. Not Rear Window, but Big Fish. I admired Ewan McGregor's character, Edward Bloom, how he felt that love and fate were intertwined. I was jealous of his ambition and direction. Get the girl, a job, nice car, and make her happy. Does that kind of thing still work? Central to the film though is the relationship between father and son, and how even though we may be speaking to each other, we are not saying much that reveals who we are. I revealed much of myself this weekend and had you been across the way with binoculars in hand you would have seen me. But we all know that looking, is not knowing.