Here we go again: The fucked up writer – though it might well be a painter or a musician or an actor – bursting at the insufferable seams with all manner of emotional turmoil; and then trying somehow to contain it all and still function more or less “reasonably” out in the world with others.
And since this is said to be based in part on Philip Roth, we can pinpoint “the type” here with more precision.
On the other hand, as we all know, you don’t have to be “a writer” in order to be this type yourself. These days, it sort of just comes with the culture. It’s only more enhanced among those willing to go much, much deeper below the surface.
Here’s the thing though: most of us will never even come close to achieving the sort of life that makes the turmoil all that more pronounced. And protracted.
In other words, a few will argue that he has somehow earned the right to be this way. Not that they will ever convince me of this. Not that I ever actually earned my own dispensation.
His girlfriend Ashley is also in the arts. She’s a photographer. But: a commercial photographer. Which for some doesn’t count. And yet it is when we consider this “type” in a relationship that we recognize how the world will ever and always revolve solely around his own self-gratification.
And, as I note time and again here with respect to this sort of person, it is then utterly futile to discuss the relationship in terms of “the right thing to do”.
Actually, in some respects this film should have been called Listen Up Ashley. As far as I am concerned, her own thoughts and feeling were far, far more interesting to me.
As for Ike, he seems to be there mainly to remind us to make the distinction between a narcissist clearly on the way up and a narcissist clearly on the way down.
And then [of course] there is always the part about the money. And celebrity. And [given the protagonist here] sex.
Oh, and neuroses.
Finally, the part that revolves almost entirely around Philip just being a complete fucking asshole. And then this: whether or not you can get away with it.
This is a film that revolves around the dialogue. It either resonates with you or it doesn’t. I liked it a lot.
Look for the [at times] vast chasm between intellectual depth and emotional depth. Or, perhaps, more significantly, the realization that emotional depth itself is largely just an illusion.
IMDb
The character Ike is inspired by the author Philip Roth.
at wiki: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Listen_Up_Philip
trailer: youtu.be/lyErKmF6xdo
LISTEN UP PHILIP [2014]
Written and directed by Alex Ross Perry
[b]Narrator: Philip was on this day meeting for lunch with Mona, his ex-girlfriend, whom he had dated throughout a portion of college. As with any punctual individual, Philip loathed when people ran late, which Mona typically was. By the time Mona made her way to Philip, he was in a state of rage and on the verge of storming out…
…
Philip: Things are gonna be pretty crazy for me after the release. In fact, this might be the last time I’m home for more than a week at a time for the next eight or possibly nine months. Actually, yeah, definitely. It’s just busy. Los Angeles in January, San Francisco… Powell’s in Portland, the whole West Coast thing, really. I’m told to expect big things out there.
Mona: You sound like you’re bragging.
Philip: That’s because I am bragging. And you’re doing a really hurtful job of sounding unfazed. And do you know why that is? Because you’re not pretending. You’re not interested in this or me, not even a little.
Mona: Why would you say that?
Philip: Because you never believed in me. And you don’t now.
Mona: Well, good for you.
Philip: No, not good for me. Great for me. You know, you told me many times, now that I think about it, actually, that my goals were unreasonable and foolhardy. Am I recalling this correctly? That my dream, the only dream I’ve had since I was 14 years old, to write and publish a novel of my own, wasn’t something I could just reach out and have. Hard work, you tell me. Years of working up from the bottom, you tell me. Well, you know something? You were wrong. Dead wrong, actually. About me and everything.
…
Parker: Apparently not everybody’s cut out for life in the fast lane.
Philip: You make me want back every minute of time I wasted with you, dreaming of a future we could share. Our declaration of principles. Remember them? Worthless now. I was so stupid to think you wanted it. I wanted it, you fucking asshole!
Parker: I did want it. I wanted it more than you could know. It’s not so easy for everybody, OK? We can’t all be as lucky and talented as the great Philip Lewis Friedman. You know what, though? I’m glad, I’m glad. Because if both of our goals had come true, then I’d be just as much of an insufferable piece of shit as you, you fuckin’ Jew bastard!
…
Narrator: Returning home to the apartment he shared with Ashley Kane, his girlfriend of two years, Philip found himself gripped by uncontrollable lust, temporarily forgetting the ambivalence and negligence towards him that she was increasingly incapable of concealing, as her success as a photographer in the art world led to consistent and lucrative commercial work.
…
Photographer: Do you wanna look in our wardrobe area? We can probably find you a lighter-weight jacket.
Philip: Let’s just keep this jacket on me and take the photograph sooner rather than later.
Photographer: We actually wanted to get a picture of you in front of the printing press, and then the portrait.
Philip: Is that from the 1920s?
Photographer: Yeah.
Philip: Well, I’m not, so let’s skip it and move on over to this yellow thing, all right? I know. “What an asshole.”
…
Philip: I’m not doing any press for the book at all. Readings, interviews. Nothing.
Editor: You cannot be serious.
Philip: Oh, quite.
Editor: That’s a horrible, horrible idea.
Philip: I don’t like the idea of being on display. My mind is made up. I wanna be left alone.
…
Editor: You’re fucking with other people’s money here.
Philip: Money, money, money. What about my integrity? You know, I can think of a few other important writers who also took a firm no-press position.
Editor: I just wanna know that you’ve thought it through thoroughly.
Philip: I haven’t. It’s a very impulsive decision, and I’m very pleased with myself for that.
…
Philip: It strikes me as unlikely, as you supported ideas like this when I still could have turned them down. I need the money.
Ashley: What I said was, it would be good for your career.
Philip: I thought you meant “career” with a dollar sign.
…
Narrator: It had been months since Ashley felt any real connection to Philip. He began to drift away while applying the finishing touches to his new book and had never come back. She tried her best to ignore the mounting signs, but the more often they were brought to her attention, the harder it became. The most difficult part of which was her own increasing ambivalence regarding her role in Philip’s life, or his in hers. She wanted him to want her, and the slowly dawning realization that he might not was enough to push her into emotionally unprecedented levels of doubt and misdirected anger.
…
Ike: You are selfish and unsentimental. Everyone knows this about you.
Philip: You say that like it’s a bad thing.
Ike: On the contrary. An admirable trait, if you ask me.
…
Melanie [to Philip]: I don’t find you charming. You are just like him, and I hope you learn to take responsibility for yourself before you destroy the lives of people who care about you.
…
Mona: I was surprised you called me.
Philip: I didn’t see any way that I couldn’t. Things are pretty hectic with my new book and everything.
Mona: That’s pretty cool.
Philip: No, it’s not cool. It’s fucking amazing. Do you know how few people reach this level? You seem to not care.
Mona: I really don’t. Did you ask me here so you could talk about yourself?
Philip: Next question.
Mona: Does talking about this stuff make you feel happy?
Philip: No. I find thinking about it all to be unfulfilling and exhausting. Does nothing for me.
Mona: Well, that’s how the rest of your life is gonna be. Unfulfilling and exhausting. I think success has made you ugly. I think you’ve gotten far too in touch with your selfish instincts, and it’s not healthy.
…
Melanie: Well, I speak from experience when I say that it is horrible to be treated in a way that only points out how meaningless you are.
Philip [seriously pondering it]: Never thought of it that way.
…
Narrator: Philip wished Ashley had not reminded him of how great it felt to be proud of her. His own relationship with success had forced him to grow out of feeling resentful towards her accomplishments. He was not prepared to lose that constant stream of enthusiasm.
…
Narrator: Despite being surrounded by people most of every day, Ashley was unable to connect to them in a way she considered meaningful and found herself passing through their lives, and her own, in a state of total isolation.
…
Philip [who shows up out of the blue]: I’m fairly certain I’m not welcome here.
Ashley: Ding-ding-ding.
Philip: It’s late. I’ve been sitting here waiting to make a scene for hours.
Ashely: What do you want?
Philip: I’m very lonely.
Ashley: That’s unfortunate.
Philip: I don’t like teaching creative writing as much as I assumed I would.
Ashley: Well, you’re a cruel, miserable person, so it makes sense you’d end up in a miserable situation.
…
Ashley [to Philip]: Just go back where you came from. I’m getting angry at myself, do you understand? Because it doesn’t even upset me to see you like this. I want you to leave and leave me alone. I don’t know why you are here, but I’m not interested, so don’t tell me. God, do you remember there was a time when we just…We wanted to go to sleep together and wake up together, every day, indefinitely. Now I don’t even give a shit if I ever see you again.
…
Narrator: Sitting meekly on the couch, Melanie embodied the high cost of isolation and detachment from loved ones. Unable to stand it any longer, Philip excused himself and returned to his pitiful life at the college.
…
Narrator: When Philip departed in late August for the college, Ike was remiss to find himself backsliding into a familiar pattern of boredom and tedium.
…
Narrator: His friendship with Philip eventually served as little other than a reminder of the absences in his life, and of their increasing presence and volume. Seeing Philip during the previous weekend had left Ike in an even lower state of self-pity, as he found himself unable to produce a worthwhile thought. So consumed was he with the solitude and self-imposed exile he had once coveted and manufactured for himself so meticulously but now experienced only as an infinitely replenishing prism of regret.
…
Narrator: The companionship of Melanie was, at best, diverting and, at worst, a constant reminder of the multitudes of relationships Ike had gleefully sabotaged over the years, all in the name of preserving and feeding his increasingly insatiable ego.
…
Ike: Melanie! Hey, hey, hey! Look who’s here! Hey! That’s my daughter.
Melanie: I hate you both.
[Philip motions as though to say he had nothing to do with it]
Melanie: Oh, didn’t you? Go fuck yourself.
…
Melanie: Why do you assume that she never talked to me?
Ike: Oh, I’m sure she was only too eager to fill your head with some inane, fictitious bullshit. But one thing I know for a fact, you only got one version of events told from the perspective of a very sad, very lonely, pathetic woman.
Melanie: You insult again. This is my mother you’re talking about.
Ike: And? Go on.
Melanie: You talk about her like she’s some leech that sucked you dry.
Ike: Yeah, well, she would have done, given half the chance. Her and everyone else. You know, she is my biggest regret, hmm? The strongest and saddest proof that you cannot change anyone, and that your first instinct about them will always be right.
Melanie: Yeah, well, that just proves that you yourself can’t be changed, either.
Ike: Yeah, well, much to my chagrin, I prove my own point. I always try to lead by example… To show everyone how I can put aside preconceptions and find new feelings, new ideas. But the innate ineffability of human disappointment overcomes my faith every time.
…
Narrator: The emotions which arose from the spectacular confrontation with his daughter enraged and excited Ike in such a way as he no longer felt possible. Philip’s unbridled respect and reverence for his idol, compounded with his youthful sense of rage and entitlement, had forced unwanted introspection upon Ike. And what he saw was a shamefully complacent old man, who had long since given up the forcefulness that had once motivated him to create some of his best work.
…
Narrator: The autumn months had brought about an overwhelming sense of shame in Ike, as he tried and failed to put out of his mind the vigour and dissatisfaction that once drove him to succeed, replaced with frustration, self-pity and disappointment.
…
Yvette: So, what do you do at night?
Philip: I stay home, I read, and I think. It’ll make my life harder if people see me differently. Does that make sense?
Yvette: And you only want to be thought of as a talented writer and not as a real person?
Philip: Hmm, yeah. Yeah. That’s probably about right. In fact, that’s exactly right.
…
Narrator: Philip wrote and mailed Ashley a letter, which read…
“I find myself alone again and again, and I’ve abandoned hope that this is something that can or will change. I would extend my apologies for neglecting to phone, were I not certain that they would be rejected. I offer the honest yet invented-sounding explanation that hearing your voice or anything about your current life would compound my already overwhelming sense of isolation and regret in a way I would consider crippling. My return date is set for December the 15th. I look forward to seeing what type of person I feel like by then.”
The letter was signed simply, “P”. She threw it away without ever opening the envelope.
…
Narrator: No longer fighting against his situation and finally at peace with it, he had noticed himself making friends where there before had been none, and experiencing feelings and emotions he had studiously blocked out from August through late October.
The result of which was his transformation into a tolerable person for whom the faculty began to care, to say nothing of the added benefit of winning Yvette’s affections, a goal of his since he first convinced himself of the extent to which she disliked him.
…
Philip: My uncle, who you saw in passing, raised me because both of my parents were killed in a car accident.
Yvette: Why are you telling me this?
Philip: Because I want you to contextualize my sadness. Put whatever you’re going through into perspective. My mom was pregnant at the time. Seven months. I was on the news. I’m telling you this to hurt you right now, because you’re trying to make me feel bad, horrible even, which I don’t appreciate. But I never will…Because nothing ever feels bad once you learn what that emotion is capable of. Now let’s not make a big deal about it. I usually don’t. But you really forced my hand on this. Do you know that expression? “Forced my hand”? It’s one of my favourites.
…
Narrator: Philip left the college much as he arrived, alone and devoid of meaningful connections with anybody else.
…
Narrator: He returned home to the city and was refused decency by Ashley, who had made the decision that Philip would not be allowed to re-enter either her home or her life, having come to the realization that she would no longer invest in somebody who would routinely cause her to feel terrible.
…
Narrator: Philip’s thoughts then turned to Ike, alone in his isolated home in the woods, a lifetime of enemies and scorched earth forcing him into a quasi-involuntarily self-imposed exile.
…
Narrator: Rejected by both Ashley and Yvette, Philip walked off on his own, with only the faintest notion of where to move forward from this, the low point of his adult life. And while he would remain close with Ike, a friendship that proved essential to the eventual completion and publication of several more novels, and later achieve an enviable level of wealth and success, from this day forward, Philip would never invest so much of himself in anybody else, instead living the rest of his life unwilling to so much as consider emotional honesty, and deeply wary of those who attempted to get close to him, a pattern of behaviour that ultimately left him an isolated and emotionless spectre, forever remaining a mystery, even to himself.[/b]