This is to the second man who found me amongst the noise, as I pictured him conveniently working at the exact opposite-sided desk from the first man who found me. Adam Cook with zero obligations set and steered the very dialogue that would ripple-affect the audiovisual universe’s course as it was known. Peter Kuplowsky was then the one to make what had every systematic reason to not happen actually happen. With-no-exaggeration the only two influential people alive in the planet’s film industry who’d fight for me went out of the way to pull me out from one more pile of set default rejections.
It was supposed to be one more template-bot-letter sent via metrosexual hipster voice “mmThankYouSoMuchForYour400$PleaseDonateAgainNextYear” masking the reality of the programmers or juries watching like 4 minutes tops, squeal-screeching “mmdon’tgetit”, throwing the movie out of the window, then spitefully strutting the streets with my money in slow-mo to alt-j / shuffled west anderson soundtrack to go get a 90-dollar veggie burger and coke inflation tax not included. Anyway they were the only two people with the power they worked for who actually did the very thing that would make the folks in suits clench their asses and still shit their pants. Adam and Peter gave Matias, Ian, and I theatre stages to fly kites made from gift wrap / table cloth in front of moviegoing audiences of grown-ass adults and professionals.
The cult now spreads in Australia and my only proverbial part in that was recording an intoxicated performance art commentary for the mangoshake blu-ray.
This one’s for the man who Needed it to work [Peter]. Who thought nothing of the pragmatic/feasibility red flags I straight up waved in my own skyped face cause I’m really bad at lying and gamble on shameless earnestness as compensation for incompetency. This is for the guy who when I was conveniently succumbing to my 2018 meteor shower—clearly losing all emotional stability leading up to, during, and long after WTF fest of which would make anyone else with no time to spare go “WTF is this asshole”—he instead actually stood by me like… a..compassionate person. All the way to my equivalent-rehabilitation heading to VIFF 2018.
This is to my one and really only consistent guardian angel, and actively the one beacon of hope against the entirety of hollywood. And every time I revisit the image of Peter Kuplowsky Vs. the entire rest of hollywood, there’s not an ounce of doubt with it. Despite how hard he has to freedom fight for voices that truly would never even be heard of otherwise, for my part I cannot accept this contrivance that a system no matter how long-standingly oppressive, silencing, dated, backwards, hypocritical, conniving, rapey, and full of self-stroking bullshit could stand a chance against an actual human being who cares.
The way I objectively see it, hollywood doesn’t stand a chance against you Pete. And so long as I am not smoking crack from a deviant-art-designed-pipe in an alleyway camping to mug hipsters—I will show up every time, regardless how excruciatingly I’m suffering at the given time. I’ll use it.
In case you’re way too pre-occupied and skimmed to the end:
Thanks for making the creative world—and so the world—better.
Thanks for making my life better, even through every time I made it reasonable for you not to bother. I still work on my pettiness though contrastingly at least I remember compassion and generosity just as equally.
Thanks for being more than a cultural gatekeeper and guardian angel. Thanks for being a friend.
Still lifted by your last phone call re: EEE / E3 / 3XE.
Happy belated birthday Pete. Love you always man. See you at the show tomorrow.