Between 8PM and midnight, once the kids are in bed, once we have slipped into our pjs, we watch a movie. Or two. Most of the time, it’s a horror flick. I must have seen them all: from the mainstream big budget blockbusters, to the indie gems, to the old sexploitation movies of Jose Ramon Larraz. None, however, made me poop in my clown pants the way The Notebook did. Here was the romantic story of a man pursuing the love of his life. Incessantly. Many hailed the movie as the greatest love story of its time. None of these people are my friends. If anything, The Notebook is a movie about a psychopath who simply doesn’t know when to let go. Dude, one step towards my daughter and I will kick your sorry buffed ass, and abs, and arms, and neck, and goddamn you’re hot. This crazy tale of an obsessed and deranged man also propelled my Canadian BFF4EVS™ Ryan Golsing on top of Hollywood’s A-list. A sociopath heartthrob, the way I like them.
Ryan is a multi-dimensional artist: he can act, he can pose without a shirt on, he can sing a mean Disney song, and he can sing about zombies. And he can pose without a shirt on. He is an Academy Award nominated actor. He is a sex symbol. He is an internet meme. He even is a Le Clown internet meme.
Ryan made cry with Blue Valentine. Ryan gave me chills with The Place Beyond the Pines. Ryan made me dance on Chromatics with Drive. Ryan made me wish I was stoned with Only God Forgives. But what Ryan does best is to provide one of my favourite soundtracks for when I drive my manly Honda Civic 2008: the music of his band, Dead Man’s Bones.Don’t you worry, I’m getting to the essence of what will make this fanboy rant on Ryan a worthy post for Eva’s blog. And perhaps part of your playlist this coming Halloween.
What’s left of Ryan Gosling’s Mickey Mouse Club era is a man singing under the pseudonym of Baby Goose, songs about burning Disney’s mascot on a cross in Salem, backed up by a coven of witch and zombie kids. In Dead Man’s Bones, Baby Goose sings with a friend of his, Zach Shields… an acquaintance, not his real best friend of course, because that’s me (call me). Pa Pa Power would be my choice if I had to pick one song led by Zach, the back up guy who isn’t that very important and should sing under the stage while wearing a sheet over his whole body, and a muzzle over his mouth, locked in a steamer trunk.
But it is songs like My Body’s a Zombie for You and In the Room Where you Sleep, which played in the latest James Wan movie, The Conjuring, that will cater to Eva’s readers, because you can hear the hotness in Ryan’s voice, and by hotness, I mean the creepy vibrato of his evil soul. The music, something like Eloise by The Damned, or The Cramps‘ Human Fly. Ryan is also over 6 feet tall. Not that I care. Six pack abs.
My wife and I caught Dead Man’s Bones back when I had a one-ab that looked like Ryan’s left buttcheek—my one ab would now fill Ryan’s ass completely. The concert hall was somewhat packed, and surprisingly, no screaming groupies, expect me, pulling my hair off, pinching my nipples. Ryan did look straight in my eyes, and smiled, just before he called security to keep an eye on me. And it’s there, at the very moment when Dead Man’s Bones played Lose Your Soul that I had an epiphany… The Notebook was not a horror flick. Noah was not a psychopath. Nora didn’t really care about Allie. It was all make-believe. Ryan Gosling was acting for me, his Canadian favourite BFF4EVS™… at least, that’s what I tried telling the doctor when they moved me to the the psychiatric ward’s padded room.