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Page 1 of 3 I don’t hate Bruce Campbell. I don’t even dislike Bruce Campbell. I just don’t get Bruce Campbell. To be more accurate, I don’t understand the hold he has over a certain segment of the movie-going population. I mean, Bruce Campbell has a following. Tomorrow, “on assignment”, I’m going to see him because he’s going on tour. People are coming out just to hear the Great Man speak. Bruce Campbell! Who knew? The other two people responsible for inflicting this website on an unsuspecting public are rabid fanatics. Seriously! Otherwise intelligent, hard working people love this man. Angela drove three hours – three hours mind you…in winter…in Michigan—to see him. Who would you do that for?
Shit, who would I do that for? Three hours? Are you kidding? If Barack Obama goes only to Seattle, most people aren’t driving the three hours from Portland to hear him speak. They’ll read about it the next day in the paper or catch it on YouTube. Bruce-fucking-Campbell. I’m thinking, “the guy who wouldn’t let Peter Parker in to see Mary Jane’s play in Spider Man 2?” Yes! That guy! “Wait, you mean Ash from Army of Darkness, the “boom-stick” guy?” Yes! That guy! Holy smokes. Bruce fucking Campbell. My cup runneth over. He can’t act, he’s not very funny, not sexy, would admit all of that, and yet he goes on tour. To promote a movie called My Name is Bruce no less. Presumably, that’s part of his appeal. He once claimed that Ash Williams was “an idiot and a jerk like the rest of us”. (Am I really in the minority when I think “Speak for yourself, bro.”? I’m not even saying it is or is not true just that I don’t need some actor I’ve never met declaring it for me.) I mean, there are lots of people in film who are bastions of mediocrity that don’t have a following per se. Meg Ryan. Owen Wilson. Shannon Doherty. But heck, people come from miles around just to be in Bruce’s presence. He’s like Jesus to the geek crowd, his fans just want to touch the hem of his garment. No wonder he played Elvis in Bubba Ho Tep.
Who wouldn't want to make love to this man? | Does he get groupies? Are there Bruce Campbell groupies? Does he send out security to pick out the hot nerds in the crowd and bring them backstage? You can imagine that if he does we’re not talking Snoop Dogg caliber groupies. We’re not talking Guns n Roses video hotties. These are not the choice bimbos in the half-shirts and short shorts waiting for the quarterback to come out of the locker room. I’m guessing the kind of groupies Bruce Campbell gets -- if he gets them -- are the type that say, William Shatner might get at a Star Trek convention. For instance, Shatner would have chicks with pointy ears and mini-skirts who flirt with him outrageously—in Klingon-- while handing him their phone number (“I’m going to boldly take you places no man has gone before.” or “I’ll beam something up, alright…Tiberius.” Seriously, the possibilities abound.). Maybe a typical Bruce Campbell groupie comes on to him wearing strategically torn rags and a plastic Halloween axe buried in the middle of her forehead with corn-syrup blood running down the middle of her face and goth make-up. Maybe they slip him their number on a rubber severed limb while chanting, “I’m gonna get you, I’m gonna get you”? What would they say? “Bruce, here’s my number. Come up and show me your boom-stick.” “Bruce, call me and I’ll come over and eat your brain.” or “You’ll eat my brain.” or “You’ll eat me.” Ahhhh…now we’re getting somewhere. (Hmm…I’ll tell you what, though, I’ll bet they all read. I’m serious. Think about it. I’ll bet, as a cinematic demographic, Bruce Campbell groupies would be a relatively literate bunch. But I digress.) |
Among the faithful, Campbell is affectionately known as “The Chin”. And make no mistake it is a chin of epic proportions, Lil’ Abner’s got nothing on this guy. Terry Bradshaw looks like Ichabod Crane when put next to Bruce Campbell (Terry Bradshaw is a former NFL quarterback known for—among other things-- his big, square jaw for all of you out there scratching your heads—and if you’re reading this that’s probably you). When you’re a little kid and you hear that Samson slew an entire army of infidels with a jawbone, it’s a little weird. When you look at Bruce Campbell you begin to understand. Now, Samson did that with the jawbone of an ass, mind you…um well, never mind. It’s too easy. Just too easy. Can you imagine if Bruce Campbell and Keira Knightley were to get married and have kids (I just horrified every Bruce Campbell fan in the world.) Their children would have the Chin of the Gods. They'd have a jaw like a battleship, the USS Moontrap. Anyway—the chin is a necessary accoutrement for the character that Campbell is best at. Basically, what he’s done is made a career of lampooning the kind of broad-shouldered, square jawed hero that long ago came to be de rigueur for action heroes in movies. Indeed, he looks more like Clark Kent than Christopher Reeves ever did. But whereas in movies they take comic book heroes and have them act more realistically, Campbell is a movie hero who acts like a comic book. Ash Williams, Campbell’s most famous creation, is a caricature of machismo, his ridiculous confidence bolstered by the knowledge that he’s living in a fantasy world. This knowledge seems key to the Campbell Technique. He’s not bound by strictures of naturalism. He flaunts awareness of the audience. Campbell’s characters are always cognizant that they are in a movie and they’re always letting the audience in on the joke. I would guess that’s another piece in the puzzle of the Bruce Campbell phenomenon.
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You could write "John Deere" on that and who would trip? |
"Retails for about $199.95", indeed. | It’s just a guess though. I don’t pretend to know or understand the Campbell’s appeal. It is now the Monday after My Name is Bruce came into town. It was a disappointing weekend. I couldn’t get in. Seriously! The guy had four, FOUR(4), shows where he had Q&A’s and I couldn’t get into any of them! They had been sold out for two weeks. Sold out? Two weeks ago? Are you kidding me? At least two weeks ago, in this economy, over six hundred hard-working Pacific Northwesterners spent their hard earned cash to make sure that they could hear Bruce-fucking-Campbell give the Sermon On the Cineplex. Astounding. I mean, what film actor goes on tour to speak? It occurs to me that not every film actor could or would. Everyone else is either too big or too small. Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt would never do it and it would be a waste of time and money for Joe Shmoe or Gilda McGillicuddy. The aforementioned Shatner and Co. do conventions. Porn stars tour in strip clubs (ahem, or so I hear) but that’s it. Just the fact that Bruce Campbell does this at all speaks to his particular brand of charisma and to the unique place he holds in movie fandom. |
Here is the cold part: I’m feeling like a responsible journalist, right? Or rather, I feel like I owe it to Paul and Angela to try, you know what I’m saying? So I’m waiting…waiting mind you, like I don’t have a life or something, to see if somebody doesn’t show up and then maybe they can let me squeeze in. I’m outside negotiating with the manager—this is the second day after being thwarted on the first, “can I just come in for the Q&A? I write for a website. I’ll buy a ticket for the movie later in the week. I’ll stand up in the back. I’ll give him a hand job in the back. I'll give you a handjob in the back," (that’s as far as I’ll go. I have my pride). I won’t tell anyone.” The manager gives me this huge sigh and looks at me with this world-weary expression on his face. “You have to understand, I get fifty requests like this per showing." Of course, the kicker was that expression. A cold fear gripped my heart when I saw it. I realized what it meant. I wanted to scream in his face: “No! No! I’m not one of Them! I’m not! This is just for the website! My favorite actor is Jeffrey Wright! Or Marlon Brando! Wait! I like Prince and Bob Marley! I have class! I have a dignity! I have taste!” But I don’t. It won’t do any good anyway. I can tell. I would say, “I’m not a Bruce Campbell fanatic.” And he would say, “Uh, yeah. Of course you’re not a Bruce Campbell fanatic. You always come to a movie that’s sold out, twice in two days begging to get in, like a teen-ager at a Jonas Brothers concert.” So I just leave.
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