A Local Fan & Her Take on Billy and MacArthur Park

When Max first announced that MacArthur Park was coming to St. Louis, I was floored. I’d wanted to see it, and had completely forgotten about the St. Louis Film Festival.

Now that I’ve been up to it again, I can’t believe it ever slipped my mind. I knew I’d have to go see MP, no matter what it took; of course, at the time, I was jobless and had few weekend activities, so it wasn’t going to be a problem. When Max told me later that Billy would possibly be there, I wasn’t actually able to take it all in. I mean, seeing the film would be enough; meeting him was just too much. My life isn’t that interesting. *g*

As the weekend got closer, I had to struggle to find someone to go with me. Too many activities were going on at the same time, and I didn’t want to make the drive up alone two days in a row. At last Amy decided to go with me; I’ve dragged her along to quite a few places since we were roommates. At the last minute, things started to fall apart.

I got a job, but had to work at 8 a.m. Saturday, Amy needed to go home that weekend, so wouldn’t be able to drive up with me, my friends planned a trip south Saturday night and wanted me to drive, since I had the biggest vehicle… No matter what, though, I knew I’d go up to see it.

When Friday rolled around I had class all day, but I wasn’t about to give up on the trip. Once things settled down, I took off for St. Louis, by myself, because Amy had other plans for the evening. Max had said that some of the Fan Club women might be there, but at that point I didn’t know who, if any, and had no clue who to look for.

Just as I reached the theater, my niece called with bad news about her pregnancy (nothing deadly, just some discomfort and worry). I didn’t want to just hang up on her, I didn’t know anyone there, and the show didn’t start for another half hour, so I remained outside to smokeand talk with her.

Looked up at one point, because I like to people watch, and there he was. Billy was walking up and I was grateful I was leaning against the wall, because he had this little smile on his face, and I don’t think my legs could have held me up on their own.

I knew I’d be nervous to be in the same place as he was, but I didn’t realize how much he would affect me. I’ve dealt with meeting some high-profile people in my day, actors, musicians, and especially writers, without batting an eye. I’ve even had to arrange, greet, and cart around a number of authors through the editing I do. But when facing him, my mind went blank and it was a struggle to breathe.

I still haven’t figured out why. He’s beautiful, inside and out, yes, but that’s never bothered me before. I’ve met other beautiful people, and usually I can ignore it. I don’t always notice things like that. He’s talented, both as an actor and as a director, yes, but the writers I work with are talented, too, and that’s never bothered me. I’ve been a fan for years, yes, but I was a fan of some of the celebrities I’ve met, and I didn’t have any problem with them.

I can only attribute it to a combination of the above, mixed in with a heavy dose of his aura. I can’t find a better word for it. He has this…almost a bubble around him of caring, politeness, self-confidence… You name it, he’s got it.

He stopped to talk to a group of women I’d noticed before, mostly because of the collection of black leather (my favorite, and I too was wearing my leather jacket). With him there, I had to have yet another cigarette before buying my ticket and heading inside.

The movie was fabulous. Never have I cared so much for the characters portrayed in a film. Books affect me like that, all the time, but not movies. However, MP had me muttering at the screen under my breath (probably frightening the group of young adults sitting in front of me), as I begged for the main character to do what needed to be done.

The cinematography was better than any of the independent films I’ve seen, as well as a number of commercial productions. From the opening montage, I was hooked by how well the camera shots captured not only the feel of the park, but the depth to the drug addicts/homeless/rich, shiny people. So often, especially with a drug addict or a homeless person, movies portray them as one-sided, without motivation or desires. MP, however, presented well-rounded, developed characters, which I appreciated so much.

Another detail that really struck me was the effectiveness of the music. There were moments when the lyrics in the songs fit as if they had been written just for the movie; too, there were moments when the non-lyrical score was phenomenal. When I most wanted to hear the swelling of piano music, there it was. When I ached to be offered the slow strains of jazz, there it was. I couldn’t have chosen the music better myself, which is a high compliment, because my brother and I often rescore movies on his computer, based on our ideas. MP I wouldn’t touch for anything.

I’m familiar with Los Angeles, since I lived in the outskirts for awhile, and call California home when I’m not in school. I’ve seen drugs in action, seen the desperation, and the spiral down that people go through. I’ve never, ever touched it, but through MP was able to feel what it might be like. I wasn’t just someone watching a movie, or even observing the situation; I was there, worried about characters that seemed like friends, from the very first viewing.

Unheard of. Usually it takes at least a dozen before I actually believe in the characters. At the end of MP, and in other sections of it, I was in tears.

The question and answer session afterward was interesting, but I was exhausted at this point, and unable to focus totally. It was bad enough that when I’d actually look straight at something, black dots would begin to obscure whatever it was. However, I stayed for the entire discussion, which I’ll stay away from, since Max will be posting a compilation of all the Q/A sessions.

I did come away with two thoughts after it. First, Billy seemed to take time with each question, giving it thought. And second, he looked incredibly tired. I was actually glad when the questions ended, not because I wanted to leave (listening to people talk is my favorite activity), but because I felt he needed rest and would be better off anywhere but standing in front of people and answering the same questions he’d probably heard a thousand times.

I left without trying to speak to Billy; at that point, I knew I had to get going or risk falling asleep on the drive, and I knew I’d make a fool of myself if I tried to talk to him alone.

Made the trek back to Cape after that, getting home after 2 a.m. I jotted down a few notes on the experience, and fell into bed, asleep before I could even begin to contemplate everything.

Work (six hours later, up four and a half hours later) was hell. The drive *back* to St. Louis was hell. Meeting up with Amy was fun. I was anxious for her to get to see the film, and by that point I knew at least some of the women were in St. Louis, and would be wearing their MP t-shirts that day. At last I had something to look for.

When we arrived at the theater again (after two detours and finding a school that is actually a fallout shelter…we took pictures), the same group of women from the night before were standing in front.

This time I’d been smart and brought a camera; I snapped pictures of the sign before commencing to my smoking. It was here that Amy began to urge me to approach the group of women. I’d told her about the fan club, and that I was uber nervous to be meeting them; probably as nervous to speak to them as I was about Billy.

Amy and I meandered toward the ticket booth so she could get her ticket. Right then, one of the women approached me. I thought she looked familiar, but I’m horrible with faces, so I didn’t ask if she was so-and-so.

Turned out to be Max (as I wondered), and she greeted me with a fantastic hug. I needed it more than I could have explained; I have bouts of shyness and fear of crowds, but she took me under her wing, introduced Amy and me to the others, and I was at once comfortable.

They were a terrific group of people, especially Amy from Atlanta and Mary Jo, both of whom went out of their way to speak to me, which made me feel terribly welcome. Everyone was polite and friendly, though, and Amy II (not from Atlanta, and as she’ll now be referred to) and I sat with them for the film.

The second viewing was even better than the first. I was able to pick up on tiny details that time around; plus I was waiting impatiently to see how Amy II reacted to it. (Hey, now that I think about it, I was sandwiched between two Amys. *g* Yes, I’m easily amused.) I’d never cried *twice* at a film in the theater, but again, by the end of MP, my eyes were wet.

The Q/A session went so much better Saturday afternoon. Billy’s answers were concise and thoughtful, even more than before, and the audience offered up some interesting questions. I enjoyed hearing behind-the-scenes stories, and since I was sitting with the Women this time, he was close enough for me to see facial expressions. Amazing. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; I could sit and listen to that man talk for hours.

We all made our way out of the theater later, and again I was overwhelmed by the kindness of Max and everyone. Amy II and I stayed together and with them, watching as Billy greeted them, and began to sign things, including a t-shirt, which I thought was an awesome idea. I think it was Barbara’s shirt, and I just wanted to tell her I thought it was great.

One of the theater people then ushered us outside, so they could seat the people for the next movie.

When I got to meet Billy, ask him to sign my Festival program, and get a picture with him, I felt younger than I’d ever felt before. Not because of him, but because of my own nerves. I didn’t feel like a giggly schoolgirl when I *was* a giggly schoolgirl (not that I’m so much older now, heh), but being so close to him made me fluttery and frightened as hell. He put me at ease though, both with a friendly smile and with the attention.

When he talks, he focuses on you, and it’s like you’re the only person there, to be all trite and clichéd. But he was fantastic, friendly and open. That close to him, listening to him talk both to me and to everyone else, I was again struck by what an incredible person he is, beneath the pretty exterior.

Amy II and I stay with the Women for awhile, talking with Mary Jo about her son and with the others about Billy, and fans, and their trips. Billy had left for a short time to greet other fans who had attended.

Billy stopped by once more to say goodbye to everyone, and then the Women were off for drinks. I would have loved to go, but both Amy II and I are slightly too young to go for drinks (the bane of my existence, I don’t turn 21 until January), and I had plans with other friends, so we said our goodbyes and left.

I wanted more than anything to spend more time with the Women, because they were so interesting and fun, but I knew the time had come to go.

I’m grateful that I went to St. Louis without any preconceived notions as to Billy and what he would be like. It was behind the grasp of my mind to even think about being in the same place as he was, so I ignore that potential, and focused on getting to see MP. I’m glad I got to meet him, because he is a wonderful person. I’m ecstatic that I got to see MP. It’s one of the best films I’ve seen in years, and definitely needs to hit theaters so a larger audience can appreciate it, learn from it, and be touched.

And I’m grateful I got to meet some of the ladies from the fan club, and spend a delightful afternoon/early evening with them and Amy II. I couldn’t have asked for a better weekend.

Well, maybe some more sleep, since I got maybe 8 hours out of 50 something hours awake by the time I was done, but hey, it was all Wirth it. *g*

Carla 2001.......

built mm 11/2001