Skip to main content

Memoir: Jake Gyllenhaal

Because I have to:

-Taylor Swift's "Red" could just as easily be called "Jake Gyllenhaal's Neediness." For that is what it is. It is a portrait of one (recognizable) man's neediness.

-This neediness takes the form of phone-calling. Apparently, shattered by the breakup, Gyllenhaal would call and call TS so he could waffle, in real time, on the phone. He infected her with his mealy-mouthed-ness. Clearly, the sadistic and mind-blowing phone calls had a strong impact on songwriter TS. She alludes to them in not one, not two, but three songs.

-Song One. "You call me up again, just to break me like a promise. So casually cruel in the name of being honest."

-Song Two. "So he calls me up again and he's, like, I STILL LOVE YOU. And I'm like, THIS IS EXHAUSTING...."

-Song Three. "You think I moved on or hate you. Cuz each time you call? There's no reply."

-TS is the younger half of this relationship, but clearly she is the mature half. The songwriter takes pleasure in this bit of irony. As she reminds us, and Jake, "It takes everything in ME not to call YOU." Implied: Though it's a struggle, note that I'm being an adult and NOT calling you.

-In "I Almost Do," TS has Jake "sitting by the window, looking out at the city." Presumably, he is doing that looking while also showing off his "sweet disposition." Once, I was walking in Greenwich Village, and there, at an outdoor cafe, was Jake Gyllenhaal. He was displaying his sweet disposition. His chair was facing the sidewalk; though he was a major celebrity, and without sunglasses or disguise, oddly enough, he was opting to "look out at the city."

-After his TS break-up, Jake Gyllenhaal had an atypical stint: He essayed a role in a Broadway musical. It was his first and only Broadway musical outing. His role: Stephen Sondheim's Georges Seurat. Of course, Sondheim's Seurat is known for his sadism, his emotional volatility and inaccessibility, his neediness. His on-again/off-again girlfriend scolds him: "Georges has many secrets." Later, she sings, very loudly, "WE DO NOT BELONG TOGETHER." (Like, ever.) I guess Taylor Swift was not available for this Broadway production.

-With her scalpel, and her notable blend of compassion and satire, TS makes us aware of Jake's pettiness, his childishness. It's not just the (semi-)unwanted phone calls. It's the small cruelties: Telling your girlfriend her album isn't as cool as various "indie records." Refusing to laugh at good jokes. Criticizing various dresses, claiming not to understand an array of songs that have sentimental importance to your girlfriend. Do you see how this album begins to have the texture of really good short fiction?

-I believe that TS entered a new sensual world between "Speak Now" and "Red." There's a great leap forward. There's a wisdom, a sadness, and an occasional brittleness in "Red" that is really stunning. TS satirizes herself, as well: "I should walk away, but you're quicksand.... I'll do anything you say, if you say it with your hands..." The child prodigy is--suddenly and shockingly--an adult.

-TS herself has indicated that a perfect storm happened and helped to bring about "Red." Entering adulthood while also contending with a particularly charismatic/maddening boyfriend/ex-boyfriend--That's a rare and profitable turning point. Recently, Lena Dunham sat next to Maggie Gyllenhaal and had to answer, for Andy Cohen, "Which of Swift's exes do you like the least?" She went with Calvin Harris--an understandable move. But, listening to "Red," I sometimes wonder if Jake did the most lasting and the most fascinating damage. I suppose we will never know...

P.S. He would not let her wear heels! He was habitually late!!!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel  Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in  Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's  Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...

Joshie

  When I was growing up, a class birthday involved Hostess cupcakes. Often, the cupcakes would come in a shoebox, so you could taste a leathery residue (during the party). Times change. You can't bring a treat into a public school, in 2024, because heaven knows what kind of allergies might lurk, in unseen corners, in the classroom. But Joshua's teacher will allow: a dance party, a pajama day, or a guest reader. I chose to bring a story for Joshua's birthday (observed), but I didn't think through the role that anxiety might play in this interaction. We talk, in this house, quite a bit about anxiety; one game-changer, for J, has been a daily list of activities, so that he knows exactly what to expect. He gets a look of profound satisfaction when he sees the agenda; it doesn't really matter what the specific events happen to be. It's just about knowing, "I can anticipate X, Y, and Z." Joshua struggled with his celebration. He wore his nervousness on his f...

Josh at Five

 Joshie's project is "flexibility"; the goal is to see that a plan is just an idea, not a gospel, not a guarantee. This is difficult. Yesterday, we went to a restaurant--billed as "open," with unlocked doors--and the owner informed us of an "error in advertising." But Joshie couldn't accept the word "closed." He threw himself on the floor, then climbed on the furniture. I felt for the owner, until he nervously made a reference to "the glass windows." He imagined that my child might toss himself through a sealed window, like Mary Katherine Gallagher, or like Bruce Willis, in "Die Hard." Then--thank the Lord!--I was able to laugh. The thing that really has therapeutic value for Joshie is: a firetruck. If we are out in public, and he spots a parked truck, he wants to climb on each surface. He breathlessly alludes to the wheels, the door, the windows. If an actual fire station ("fire ocean," in Joshie's parla...