Hook

a "love audit"

When the Spielberg film Hook was first released it was (excuse the pun) panned. Hook was Spielberg’s take on the story of Peter Pan, if Pan had left Neverland, grown-up and become a lawyer who had no sense of work-life balance.

The film came out in 1991. I was 8. I didn’t read reviews, save for the glowing ones by GMA’s Joel Siegel on the back covers of our family VHS collection. So a couple of years ago, when I first learned of Hook’s initial critical reception I was…incredulous. What I understood to be a “good movie” had in some ways been shaped by Hook. It had entered into my life at a time when my sister and I would endlessly rewatch the same dozen or so movies. Hook was a part of that cannon. We still quote the lines to each other and our exasperated partners.

“Oh there you are Peter!”
“Kill ‘em…kill them all.”
“You’re doin’ it Peter!”

Last summer I lay on my hotel bed, post-show, crying over a scene from the 3 am hotel tv movie—Lost Boy Pockets stretches the face of lawyer Peter Banning into a shape he can finally recognize as the person he once knew, the boy who never wanted to grow up: “Oh there you are Peter.”

I can remember my dad laughing at Dustin Hoffman’s melodramatic portrayal of Captain Hook as the vain, insecure, manic, self-pitying baddie of Neverland. It was a movie with the potential to cross generations in its appeal. And in my family, it did.

Hook berating a bewildered Smee to stop his attempted suicide.

I don’t want to debate whether or not Hook is a good or a bad movie. For one, I’ve begun to think of the work by artists I love, admire and trust (including Spielberg) as “varying shades of interesting.” I have my friend Rob Hamilton to thank for this generous reframe. Besides, I wouldn’t be able to hold much objectivity when it comes to Hook. It slipped into my soul when entertainment either entertained me or it didn’t. I hadn’t yet built a framework for criticism that might dismiss a movie like Hook, missing its joys or the point entirely! These days I find my critical framework to be as much a hindrance, blindspot or unhelpful point of pride as it is useful tool.

I think what is interesting to note in all of this is what grabbed my attention then, in many ways, grabs my attention now. It’s not to say that my tastes haven’t changed but recognizing what once rocked my world is a helpful way to connect to what drives my joy today.

The American writer George Saunders, who I’ve talked about much here on Adjusting the Dial, has an influences exercise, or “love audit” chart he assigns to his writing class at Syracuse University. It is designed to help writers reconnect with their joy and identify the foundational elements that shaped their taste and artistic sensibilities. It is meant to help students bypass the “literary” or “serious” mind and find the raw, unfiltered passions of their past.

By the way, I finally got to meet George! His parting words to me “Rock on, brother.”

By looking at what you once loved, you might identify the specific, honest, and often humorous elements that define your personal voice or tastes, and maybe, reconnect to some essential ingredient that drives your joy.

So, I’ve shared one from my “love audit.” What’s one from yours? Is there something you haven’t considered for a long time, something you obsessively watched, listened to or read until the cover fell off, that might drive a large part of your taste today? I’d love to hear about it.

love,
David

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P.S. We are deep in prep mode for the upcoming Album Preview Party. A one-night, close-quarters preview of the new album set inside an underground film studio in East Vancouver. This is a celebratory night of a new chapter. I can’t wait to share this new music with you.
I encourage you to get your tickets now. I look forward to seeing you.