On Tour: Athens, GA
22 Aug
When I first heard about the band My Life with the Thrill Kill Kult I didn’t realize it was a band. I thought it was some sort of conceptual art project detailing one person’s experience in a post racial group of thrill seekers who cut swathes of terror through cities in the purest expression of nihilism possible. This was the same year that Natural Born Killers was released and it seemed, at least to me, that My Life with the Thrill Kill Kult was a non-fiction accompaniment to the dystopia we were all riveted to on the big screen. You can imagine my disappointment when I found out that Thrill Kill was a band. Thankfully, Kooler Than Jesus remains one of my all time favorite albums, so at least there’s that.
I was sixteen that year and even then I knew that Natural Born Killers was a love story. A savage one to be sure but at its heart it was a tale of acceptance and about people finding their place in the world. And at that age, drowning in hormones and with no real self with which to anchor against, acceptance and finding a place in the world was incredibly seductive. And so I would have gladly thrown my lot in with a Thrill Kill Kult, had one existed, just to have something against which I could have defined myself.
And I know I’m not alone in this. We love to talk shit on the hipsters. We laugh at fake tan and blown out hair of the nj guidos. But we’re all just drawing arbitrary lines in the sand. I’m with this group or I’m against it. I’m shopping at overpriced second hand stores or I’m hanging out at Look at this Fucking Hipster. And while drawing our particular line in the sand might make us feel cool or superior, at the end of the day we’re all doing the same exact thing. Forming in groups and out groups. We’re a species that defines ourselves by who the external enemy is. No matter where we draw the line, we always see ourselves as the underdog.
The other night we did premiered the movie in Athens, GA. And while we were setting up this Gallagher looking motherfucker, as it turns out he was the assistant projectionist, stuck his head out of the theater and told us how everything he’d read about the movie – on the internet – said it sucked shit and was a huge failure. Then he stood there slightly flushed, self-satisfaction plastered across his face and just eager for a response.
It was such an absurd moment that I didn’t actually answer him. I didn’t tell him that none of us are doing this for a paycheck, that there are easier ways to earn a living. I didn’t point out that we were less than an hour from show time and that he could judge it for himself by just sitting in the booth and watching it. I didn’t ask him what sort of response he hoped to get out of us, some angry rant or vigorous denial that he could post for e-cred on the IMDB forums.
It’s easy to get mad at shit like this. Or to engage it. But he’s drawn his line in the sand. The movie sucks because he read that it does on the internet. And I’ve drawn mine. If I didn’t think that this movie has potential I’d be at home playing Super Mario Brothers on my WII and not living out of hotel rooms.
We all draw these arbitrary lines in the sand. And in some ways it doesn’t matter where that line is. Whether you’re wearing all black to fetish shows every weekend or you go the fraternity route, and I’ve done both at different points in my life, you’re going to meet some cool people and you’re going to have some cool times.
But in another way, it absolutely matters. You make the decision to stand for something or against it. While I’m past the age where I’d throw my lot in with a Thrill Kill Kult just to have something by which to define myself, the real brilliance of the name “My Life with the Thrill Kill Kult” is that it speaks to that need to belong to something. My Life with … what? What are you going to do with the eighty or so odd years you get? Is your life going to be defined by the things you’ve accomplished or the things you hate on?
It’s easy to build a whole personality around hating on things. It’s easy to find the flaws, to point out the weaknesses. It’s easy to tear down. But what does that get you in the end? I don’t know. Maybe professional hater has its own rewards.
But when contrasted against the 300 or so people who actually showed up to see the movie that anonymous e-hate looks small. While he was sitting in the projection booth the rest of us were coming together to enjoy something. True, the movie isn’t perfect. It has its flaws but I can only imagine that it’s more fun to be in the audience than sitting alone, above it all, silently hating it.
I think you’ve pointed out a basic truth that we often forget as we get further and further away from our teenaged selves:
It’s far more rewarding to be a fan than it is to be a critic.
And while we’re on the subject, Ben – I’m a fan.
Tucker’s been a big influence on me over the years, his presence pushed me to get out of my shell and start talking to people. I was floored not by how crazy they were, but that the guy who had those experiences didn’t end up broke and in a ditch somewhere crying followed by “Hi, I’m X, and I’m an alcoholic,” the next day. My father was an alcoholic, so my ideas of people doing wild and crazy shit was ordered by his example. Tucker gave me the strength to stand on my own convictions, killed my fear of alcohol, and drew my personality out of self-imposed solitary confinement.
I’ll forever be grateful to Tucker for that, but seeing him in person at the Atlanta screening was almost a letdown. He just looked so… ordinary. It’s very hard to reconcile the fact that Tucker is everything he says he is, and that despite all of that, he’s still human. That he has failings and thinks the same way we do. I built this entire movie-star persona up in my head that was very different than what he turned out to be. I imagined a razor-sharp guy that could have gone toe-to-toe with Dr. Gregory House in witty banter. That even when he fails, it’s an epic story that could easily go up on the website.
That picture, that movie I had running in my head of Tucker, wasn’t Tucker at all. I spent years of my life with Epic Tucker in my head, prodding me to change and grow and be more like him, that seeing Real Tucker was a punch in the gut. I thought I had been prepared to see him, I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal. But the first thing I did after the Q+A was head to the bar upstairs and suck down bourbon. It took me days before I could begin to comprehend why seeing him upset me so much.
So I can understand why people are saying that the movie is a let down. You can’t be a fan and *not* get emotionally invested. You can’t keep it all reasonable. And it has nothing to do with anything Tucker did, or any problems with the movie, and the people doing it are not idiots worthy of ridicule. They’re people, dealing with their personal narratives being violently deconstructed right in front of them. The people close to Tucker don’t have to deal with it, because their narratives never got so far away from reality that it ever became an issue.
At least the Gallagher looking guy said what he had to say in person, not hiding behind the internet or alcohol or a rowdy crowd. Personally, I’d prefer people speak honestly in person like that, rather than communicating behind anonymity or just following the crowd and not thinking for themselves.
Your writing is kind of like Ryan Holiday, except you’re not a hypocritical pompous dickhead.
I seriously seriously seriously can’t believe you didn’t tell me you’d be in Athens. I’m drawing my line in the sand right now: I’M PISSED AT YOU! ;)