Not a member? Sign up now
| OPINIONS |
|
|||||
|
B efore this week, we knew everything the average citizen needed to know about Matt Damon and Ben Affleck. Or so we thought. The story, as we understood it, was this: two friends from Boston write and star in a schmaltzy movie with Robin Williams. Over the next seven years, they become Hollywood royalty thanks to a few lucky breaks, a vaguely homoerotic friendship and a series of celebrity romances. The greatest generation had Bob Hope and Bing Crosby; we have Ben and Matt. Which makes us wonder, what will they call our generation years from now?
The good news: in the meantime, we have Matt and Ben, a bioplay which recently began a six-week, off-Broadway run at New York's PS 122. It's the duo's best work by far all they provided was the inspiration.
Honestly, that was probably adequate preparation. You don't need to know much about Matt, Ben or their history to understand the play. It's a story as old as time. Just as ancient cultures turned to mythology to explain the inexplicable, Matt and Ben posits the idea that Hollywood success is another phenomenon beholden to the whims of the gods. In Act One, the completed script for Good Will Hunting falls from the ceiling of Ben Affleck's apartment. Both characters perceive this as fate, and debate ensues: Can they take credit for this script? Can they both take credit for it? Who gets to play the lead role? Can they coast on the probable success of this script forever?
The lead performers' gender swap is cute and charming, but not particularly weighty. If anything, it's an indication that Damon and Affleck have become such plasticine celebrities so totally dehumanized by tabloid speculation and Hollywood ambition that they can be replaced, for the course of an evening, by girls. We'd be tempted to make much of the possible homodynamic between Matt and Ben, but here, it's relegated to a couple of obvious jokes: Ben dismisses all of Matt's schemes as "gay," like balking when Matt insists that they stare into each other's eyes intently to practice their roles.
This is not a play about gender, masculinity or the meaning of male friendship. Rather, it's about bored fans and their eagerness to conjure complete identities out of E! soundbytes. In a way, it's reminiscent of the books of Harry Turtledove, whose novels present intricately imagined alternate realities based on the slight revision of historical events. With Matt and Ben, we all know the end result, so fun lies in playing with ideas about how it came to pass. (By "the end result," of course, we mean the release of Gigli.) It would be the easiest thing in the world to spend an hour and fifteen minutes tearing apart Affleck and Damon: they're obscenely lucky, possess dubious talent, have jaws that make them look like they have some sort of glandular disease, and they're are total sluts. Not as easy is creating a play that's hysterical and sharp (the duo's "adaptation" of Catcher in the Rye consists of Matt reading the text out loud, spelling out the hard words, while Ben types; in a fever dream, Gwyneth Paltrow convinces Matt it's okay to take credit for the script, in a play on tabloid rumors that she stole the script for Shakespeare in Love from Winona Ryder's coffee table) without being nasty or prurient. Not that there's anything wrong with nastiness or prurience, we're just saying. Matt and Ben is Before They Were Rockstars meets Choose Your Own Adventure meets Square Pegs meets Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. It's whip-smart and surprisingly enjoyable. We can only hope that Withers and Kaling enter the script into Project Greenlight. n°
|
|||||










Commentarium (4 Comments)
Go Dartmouth! Woo hoo! (Mindy Kaling '01 and Brenda Withers '00)
Actually, this reviewer is huffing gas: MATT AND BEN is an unmitigated piece of steaming birdshit. These tow self-absorbed authors who couldn't act their way out of a paper bag vomit their worthless drivel all over the stage as they desperately pander for attention. The entire production is a crass commecial attempt to grab attention, and it has worked to some extent--but these girls are talentless hacks, and that betrays them in the end. A must avoid.
Ben is gay. Matt is not. I know this for a fact. How do I know? I did Ben before they were famous. But I wanted to do Matt. He was so into this skanky girlfriend that it was pathetic. Now Ben has a skanky girlfriend he's about to marry in a real-life remake of Maurice, with Ben playing the Hugh Grant part. BTW, Ben is a bottom.
I actually like Ben and Matt because they have a brain (okay, perhaps they each have half of one, but at least there's a whole one in there somewhere). But seriously, they're pretty smart compared to the rest of Hollywood (in other words, they actually read books, not to mention write screenplays). I've come to respect Matt a lot more than Ben in recent years, if only because he seems to be more interested in his work (of course, I feel kind of silly calling acting "work" as if it is a huge artistic undertaking) rather than publicizing his personal life. Anyway, I found the play amusing and the writers/actors to be quite creative - not to mention rather sweet in their characterizations of the actors. I, for one, was pleased to see that they weren't trying to skewer Ben and Matt according to their various reputations as they could have, but instead presenting an amusing story.
Now you say something