Men Of Great Potential

"Potential" is such a tricky word. It seems like a compliment — "He has such great potential" — notice how the word "great" sits right next to it? But potential is an unseen entity. Personally, instead of having great potential, I would rather have great abs. Or great access to money. Potential is what is not there ... but could be. In fact, the overused term "untapped potential" is a bit redundant. If you tap into the potential, it's no longer potential, right? Okay, this is getting confusing.

I don't mean to discourage the use of potential because right now, it's pretty much all I have. It may be something that is not seen, but sometimes it is all we can hold on to. And those of us who appreciate being told that we have great potential .... well, there isn't much of a support group. We see ourselves not in each other, because let's face it, most people don't want to show that underbelly to anyone else. What we show is the best possible side of ourselves. To other people, our potential is all tapped out. We've used it, and life is great. But everyone thinks they can do better. So we cling to the potential that we still think we have.

Sticking to this theory, if we think we are not living up to our full potential, but we think others certainly are, then we have little that connects us. If everyone else is doing great, they don't need to hear about my problems. I need to find someone who isn't afraid to bare their soul and say that they are trying and failing as well.

My heroes (or antiheroes) come from the movies, and they aren't afraid of revealing their weaknesses, most likely because they don't realize a movie is being made out of them. We have moved beyond traditional marks of right or wrong. Our superheroes nowadays are the vainglorious Iron Man or the tortured and slightly demented Batman. It's not that we want to see people in misery. We want to see them conquer whatever demons they have because it can somehow help us as well.

So, as with any major crisis in my life, I revert to the movies. I see myself in so many characters that it feels like I pay $7 to sit in a dark theater and look at a 50-foot mirror. But it's the cheapest kind of therapy there is.

Now, I don't want to follow up my last statement with a film starring George Clooney, but I just can't help myself. I have a tendency to be cute at times, but no one would confuse George and me in a police lineup.  And that's where Clooney spends some of his time in "Out Of Sight," a movie that is so much more than it seems to be on the surface. Pulled from a pulp novel by Elmore Leonard, "Out Of Sight" gives us the character of Jack Foley, a three-time loser spending a lengthy time in prison for being a bad bank robber. Why does he rob banks? He just can't see himself going through the same method of work and home that many of us appreciate and cherish.

He's not dumb. In fact, he's pretty smart, especially when it comes to aligning himself with allies and sizing up his competition. A particularly clever breakout attempt, however, places him in the crosshairs of federal marshal Karen Sisco, played by Jennifer Lopez in probably the only two hours ever where she has not come across as incredibly annoying. Their meet-cute in the back of a trunk will go down as one of the great romantic scenes in movie history, and it sets in motion a sequence of events where Jack must try to resolve his chosen life with the want and need to become a better man for this woman. Women often say it is pointless to try and change a man. In this case, they are right. Jack cannot change, but he can act like he's trying.  

In one way, he seems to be lazy. Why can't he use that energy he crams attempting big scores into something more worthwhile? Maybe something that would keep him out of prison? But of course we see all shades of him. He is not ubercool. He is flailing. He is trying not to drown. And when he and Karen have a final showdown, they both reveal that they are who they are no matter how much they try to be something else. The way Karen reconciles this while keeping Jack in her life is something most of us men would wish our women would do. But most women don't have the tolerance of Karen. In a sense, she is a glutton for punishment. She sees the good in Jack, but she knows he won't ever really use it.

Appearance-wise, we go from the sublime to the ridiculous. Paul Giamatti in "Sideways" is no one's idea of the wayward hunk needing rescue. No, he's worse. He's the schlub whose life has not gone the way he had planned. Giamatti plays Miles, a struggling writer masquerading as a high school teacher. His novel is unpublished, he is divorced, and he tends to escape his demons by creating new ones through excessive drinking — "going to the dark side." Oh, did I mention that he's also a wine snob? What a winner!

Miles' best friend Jack (why are all the bad boys in these movies named Jack?) is a wannabe actor who has gained notoriety doing commercial voice work. He is in his 40s and is getting married because ... well, he guesses it's time. And he seems to really love this girl.

Miles and Jack, played by Thomas Haden Church, spend a week in Napa celebrating Jack's last week of freedom, but mainly it's a chance for them to flee their sorry little lives for a small while. On the way, Miles steals money from his mother, Jack flirts with anything that moves, and they get really, really drunk. So why do we want to spend time with these creatures at all? That's the brilliance of the film, in my opinion. The people who hate this movie — and there are so many — point to the fact that these guys are losers. Why would we want to watch these two do anything for two hours? I can't explain it other than this. I think many people are afraid to admit their own problems, and it's easy to condemn others, especially if they are fictitious people. What amazed me is how much I related to them, more so now than ever.

It's hard to stay with these fellows, however. Jack cheats on his fiancee not once but twice, and in one of the toughest scenes to accomplish, Jack has to reveal that despite his wolflike tendencies, he cannot lose his chance at happiness with the woman he loves. He breaks down crying, naked on the bed and shows the pitiful human being he has become. To some, it may seem over the top, but to me, it is the vulnerability that we all try to conceal.

Miles is harder to pin down. He is drawn to Mya, a waitress in wine country, and he seems to be a person who is smart enough and strong enough to enjoy life, but too many things have dragged him down. He is still reeling from his divorce, and a meeting with his ex-wife is one of the hardest scenes to watch for anyone who has ever been dumped. But it's the conversation he has with Mya that will go down in film lore as wonderful screen writing. Miles and Mya speak to each other about wine, but they are really speaking about themselves. Their entire courtship is based on these few minutes, and both get it exactly right. Miles points to his love for Pinot Noir, and everything he says tells Mya what she needs to do to get through to him. And Mya points out in the same fashion why Miles needs to break out of his funk.

In the end, there is hope for both of these guys reaching their potential. It is what keeps us rooting for them, I think. They need not change everything about themselves. But they do know what they need to change.

In an earlier blog post, I spoke of John Cusack in "Say Anything ... " and his character in "High Fidelity" seems to be an adult version of Lloyd Dobler, a man stripped of that unbridled enthusiasm 15 years after high school, left with nothing more than his cool factor and his two funny but lame co-workers and friends. He too has been left by Laura, a lawyer who senses that Rob, the record store owner, has gone about as far as he can go, and she thinks it is time to move on. He tries to convince himself that she doesn't matter as much as all the other women who have trampled his heart in the past, but more and more, he realizes that she is the one who could change him.

Rob is a snob as well. He and his cohorts delight in knowing more about popular music than the denizens that muck up their store looking for old vinyl copies of rare rock gems. This book and encompassing movie came out on the eve of the mp3 revolution, but I still think there are plenty of Robs out there shunning the iPod for their classic mix tapes.

Rob is in a place that many of us have been or are in right now. We have things to say and do, but we feel stuck. Is this where we are supposed to be? Is there anywhere else we could wind up? Is there always something better out there? Although it looks like Rob was the one getting the boot, we learn through his confessionals that he pretty much did everything to roll the red carpet to the out door for Laura. And now that she is gone, he wants her back more than ever.

So he does get her back ... sort of. I'm not spoiling anything. It's just one of those endings where she basically states that she realizes that he may never reach his potential, but that she's too tired to deal with the unknown. It's seen as a happy ending because he looks like he is ready to refocus. But, as we all know, he's a dude. It's real hard to change the wiring of these kinds of men. I should know.

I haven't even touched on "Wonder Boys" where a Pen Award winning author/professor spends a weekend with his student and woos the dean of the college despite his ability to not do much of anything except smoke pot and try to piece his life back together. There is the recent masterpiece "The Town" where a bank robber falls for a clerk and tries to work his way to a better life away from the Boston underworld. One could always watch the entertaining if slightly overrated "As Good As It Gets" about the crabby writer (another writer?) who works through his obsessive compulsive behavior for a diner waitress. The classic line from that movie, "You make me want to be a better man," has been uttered by many, including me, at one point or another in our lives. Let me just tell you ... we really mean it. It's just very very hard to do.

The one constant that these films has is that the men either change or try to change based on the love of a good woman. It's a powerful drug to be sure, but it can't be a cure-all. There are those of us who have to reach our potential on our own before we are any good for anyone else out there. It makes it much harder, but it also makes it sweeter when we do.