Something Strange

I should mention that I've been exchanging e-mails with a lovely new lady on one of my dating sites these last few days. It's remarkable because we've each sent two messages, which, except for the boringest girl alive, is the furthest I've gotten since meeting the ex-wife. What's more is that I want things to keep going. Amazing, right? And this girl messaged me first. Crazy!

But she's cute. She's not morbidly obese. She's actually interesting. She's funny and seems to be pretty smart. She can write complete sentences. She converses. She's a few years older than me, which I think is way cool. Her name is Jennifer.

I think I like her. So far, anyway.

I feel really good right now.

Lots of Swearing

I'm feeling a little assholey today. Mostly towards my ex-wife, but others in my life are not helping anything.

You know what, ex-wife? You're not getting any more pictures of our son. Oh, sure, I'll tease you with small versions of them, but there's no way you're getting your hands on the full-size ones. Fuck you. I asked you months ago for one simple favor -- to burn off the pictures you had of him so I could archive them. I asked you on his behalf because I think it would be cool for him to have someday. The excuse you gave, preemptively, for not doing it? You're a slacker. Well, fuck you, slacker. You're going to be a slacker with none of my pictures of our little boy, and eventually, when your hard drive dies, no pictures at all. And all those moments with you and him together will be fucking lost with no hope of ever getting them back. And that is what he'll have to remember things by when he's all grown up. And that's what you'll deserve.

And now? You offered to e-mail me something I could use. Nothing big, but you said you'd do it. It would take you all of five minutes, at the very most, of your very "busy" day of unemployment to do it. But more than twenty-four hours later, after two polite reminders, still nothing. "Oh, I'm sorry!" you said, both times. "I'll do it right now!" Fuck you. Today, of all the shitty days in the world, you ask me to do something -- something that takes effort and going out of my way -- and I do it without complaint. It's like so many other times when I've gone out of my way to do things for you, to be nice to you. Time and time again, you thank me for doing these things, but then I ask you for a simple little favor, and you can't manage to do even that!

I'm sick of it. I try to be your friend, and sometimes you act like you want to be mine, but other times, you're a cold, uncaring, thoughtless bitch. And it's funny how the timing works, isn't it? When I do something for you, you're glad to have me in your life still. When I ask for something, well... it's not as convenient for you anymore, is it?

And of course, if I said any of this to you, you'd no doubt hold it over my head that you "give" me time with my son that you don't have to. Well, fuck you again. That's playing dirty, and you know it, but you don't care. Because you're selfish. You think only of yourself. You see only what you perceive yourself doing for others. You see only what you want.

I'm about to be done with it. You're never going to give me what I want anyway. Why should I bother trying to be nice to you anymore? I don't get anything at all back for it. In fact, you're probably going to take my son away from me, just because, you know, I'm such a nice person and everything.

Wouldn't want that kind of role model in your son's life, now would you?

Bright

Okay, yesterday morning was hell, and you can probably guess from the previous night's post what the reason would be for that. My head felt like it had been smashed in with a sledgehammer until around noon.

I dumped the remnants of my vodka down the sink in a fit of reason during the drunkest of my moments. I'd say I'm done drinking, but I've said that before.

I'm not determined to stop, but it's also not currently a big deal.

* * *

I must have done something right recently, because once I got home from work, my day got pretty good. I had a productive conversation with my ex-wife, got to see my son's smiling face, got a food processor, and was e-mailed by no fewer than three women on my dating sites. Three women that I'm not very attracted to, but... I can't complain too much.

It's hope.

Really, I dread having to log on and read the messages and then reply. Especially the reply part. It's something I'm not sure I should even do, but it doesn't feel right NOT to. As much as it sucks to hear someone say that they're not interested, at least I can move on afterwards. When I don't hear anything back, I get rather pissy and the torture just lasts even longer. Is she not replying because she's not interested, or is she just busy?

So, I'm going to reply. I guess.

Fuck this shit sometimes.

It makes me wonder if my standards are too high. And wondering that makes me thereafter wonder if that's even possible. I'm great-big not-attracted to these ladies. Why settle for less than really wonderful when relationships are so much work?

I have all the patience in the world right now.

I'm just worried that maybe I'm missing out on getting to know some great people just because they aren't pretty enough. But the more logical parts of my brain are telling me that I'm right to just keep waiting, even in spite of all the "looks fade, personality doesn't" hullabaloo that I've come to understand over the years.

Anyway...

* * *

I started a painting last night. It seems a bad time to start it, though. First of all, I ran out of fucking white paint. Second, I was going for a gray-and-gloomy look, but I'm not feeling gray and gloomy right now for some unknown reason. I feel almost sky blue, in fact.

I don't know if I'll ever finish a painting. Maybe I'm just not a painting kind of guy.

* * *

I wish that one girl hadn't been so damn boring. She really was pretty cute.

* * *

I'm kicking butt and taking names at losing weight so far. I mean, really, it seems like so little in a way, but considering how much work and dedication it's taken to get this far, it's awesome to be able to see results.

I'm down five pounds in the last three weeks or so.

It's encouraging because it seems like the weight you take off slowly is weight that's easier to keep off.

I've been running and walking on a regular, scheduled basis, and I've been eating like a reasonable person instead of pigging out for almost every meal of the day. I'm also doing crunches at night to try and build some abs. I've always wanted abs. :)

I want some good running shoes, but the stupid running store nearby is not open at any time that's convenient to me. I refuse to buy anything before I go there, though, because it's the only place in the city where they'll watch you run to determine what kind of shoes you need. I'm sure I'll end up paying more there, but I am fairly certain that it will be worth it.

Untitled #1

Hey, look! It's my first drunk blog post. I'm sure it's going to be the most eloquent thing ever to appear on the Internet, so...

* * *

I saw the most amazing-looking woman at Wal-Mart this evening. Definitely the most attractive female I've come across in quite some time. Maybe since I first moved here.

She had blue eyes that could burn through anything that she directed her gaze towards. They sure as hell burned through me pretty well. She smiled at me and it broke me heart because I'll probably never see her again.

I don't want to do this anymore.

* * *

I want to go home. Wherever that may be.

* * *

Breaking Bad is my new happiness show. How have I not heard of this yet?

Good stuff.

* * *

I'm not used to being concise. Maybe I should post like this all the time.

Maybe This Is What You're Looking For...

I'm a normal person who does normal the things that normal people do. I like to hang out and watch TV. I might be an alcoholic and I have no control of anything that happens in my life. I like the outdoors because it's the only way to get away from work and responsibility. I'm a lot of fun.

I'm very interested in sex, but I try to hide it because I'm afraid that everyone will think I'm promiscuous. Really, I'm just human, though, and you're just frigid.

I work at a dead-end job and live week-to-week, paycheck-to-paycheck. My car's a piece of shit, and I don't care.

Those pictures of me? They were taken twenty pounds ago. I tried not to gain weight, but I'm depressed and can't stop stuffing my face with junk food. I haven't exercised since high school. I'll be dead of heart disease before I'm 50.

I have no original thoughts, which scares me, because it seems like everyone else does.

I dress like a giant slob because, well, what's the point, really?

I say that I like movies, but what I mean is that I like jokes about poop, people getting punched in the groin, and naked breasts. I also say that I like music, but what I mean is that I want to hear folks singing in a rather generic way about life's issues that I -- along with everyone else -- can relate to. The radio in my piece-of-shit car hasn't changed stations since I stumbled by luck into setting it to my favorite fifteen minutes after buying the damn thing.

I will secretly think that things won't last from the very moment we first make contact. This will last until one of us dies or you decide to leave me. Once we've been together for a while, I'll feel guilty a lot about checking other women out, but I'll do it anyone because I'm bored with you. When you make me angry, I'll consider smacking you around a bit because I'm a fucking monkey deep down inside.

My home is full of pizza boxes and beer cans and dirty dishes and laundry. There's a pair of boxer shorts hanging from the ceiling fan in my bedroom. They've been there for a year and a half. That was the last time I had a date. If you're lucky, I'll clean up right before the first time you come over so you won't know what it is that you're getting yourself into.

I have no useful skills to speak of. I'm not creative. I'm unloving and unaffectionate. I expect a lot more from you than is reasonable, and will give only as much as I have to. Less if I can pull it off.

What I'd really like is someone who won't bitch at me for farting and who really likes to have sex. You should anticipate putting both traits to use simultaneously at times.

You'll know right away when we meet that I'm an asshole. I'll convince you that it's actually charming.

I'm always fucking right.

And I don't believe in love.

* * *

I'm just pissed that my creative profiles don't seem to catch the attention of many. Maybe one like this would.

I'm in a pissy mood. Sorry.

There's Always a Never Again

That fucking movie. I am suffering from a severe lack of productivity thanks to Charlie Kaufman and his goddamn wonderful obscurity. And I might as well just change the name of my blog to "The Synecdoche, New York Blog: All Synecdoche, All the Time." It's now 60% about that movie in terms of number of posts, and even higher in terms of word count. Oh well.

I didn't have time to watch the full movie again last night, but I did get through the first fifteen minutes again right before I went to bed. I might have been a little sloshed, too; it appears that I'm driving a burning car (as I can't seem to escape referencing Synecdoche, New York) and my sorrows needed a little drowning. My parents bought this car for me about a year ago, trying to replace a car that I didn't feel any need or desire to have replaced. Now, the electrical system is going out in this new one, and once it degrades to the point where repairs are necessary, it will set me back about $3000. Thanks, Mom and Dad!

And it sucks because I know they meant well, but at the same time, fuck them for not listening to me.

Anyway, I'll just let the fire burn for a while until, ya know, I probably die from smoke inhalation or something.

To add to the unending suckitude of yesterday, Amazon has decided to ship my Synecdoche shooting script with the requirement of a signature upon delivery. I'm never home when UPS comes by, so... I have not yet received it. And I might just let it get sent back, since I may be even more broke in the near future and can stand to spare every penny that I possibly am able to.

I did read through an early draft of the script, though, and I'm increasingly convinced that the connection between Caden and Ellen is a vital part of the film. Moreover, I am almost certain that they are meant to be the same person. I was tempted to discard as symbolic this blurb:

You are Ellen. All her meager sadnesses are yours; all her loneliness; the gray, straw-like hair; her red raw hands. It's yours. It is time for you to understand this.

However, I think maybe this is one of the keys to understanding the movie (if it is possible to do so).

I considered the scenes where alternately Caden and Ellen are at the door to Adele's apartment, with the old lady asking each time if he/she is Ellen. It is to be assumed, I think, that Ellen is the person who cleans Adele's apartment.

Why would the old lady not recognize that Caden, clearly not a woman, would almost certainly not be named "Ellen?" It's not as though it's anything close to a gender-neutral name.

But what if Caden is Ellen?

What I didn't catch until I read the July 2007 script (PDF) (which much of my thoughts in this post will come from) is that this isn't the first instance of Caden/Ellen name confusion. Here's part of the scene in which Caden calls Adele in Germany:

ADELE (PHONE VOICE)
Hello? Hello? Who is this?

CADEN
It's Caden!

ADELE (PHONE VOICE)
Ellen?

CADEN
Caden! I can't wait to see you and
Olive on the 12th. um... I went
someplace without you tonight, Ad.
I went some place you couldn't come
with me. I'm sorry.

ADELE (PHONE VOICE)
What? Who is this? Oh, I have to
go. There's a party. I'm famous!

I arrived at an important question: Was Caden actually married to Adele? Again, what if Caden really is Ellen?

While Caden is having a seizure:

OPERATOR (PHONE VOICE)
911. What's the problem, ma'am?

CADEN
I'm sick.

OPERATOR (PHONE VOICE)
We're out of ambulances, miss, but
we'll send a taxi. Please wait in
front of your house, miss.

I thought this was meant to just be humorous while I was watching the movie; I mean, I have a pretty obviously masculine voice, and even I have been called "ma'am" by some apparently deaf person on the phone before. It seemed like just another one of those glorious Kaufman odd-but-real life moments.

But maybe it's more than that.

Something that didn't make it into the final version of the film (unless I just didn't catch it):

INT. 31Y WALK-IN CLOSET (INT. WAREHOUSE SET) - 2050 - MORNING

Caden lies on his back, and opens his eyes. His pumps drone.

CADEN
(quietly, mournfully)
Eric.

Caden looks over. No note from Adele. He gets out of bed,
glances in the mirror, seems surprised by his reflection.

(Emphasis mine.)

And after communicating with whoever is actually cleaning her apartment as "Ellen," the following takes place:

INT. 31Y WALK-IN CLOSET - 2029 - NIGHT 146
Caden sees an unmade cot in the corner and a few cardboard
boxes marked "Stuff for Olive." The "Olive" is crossed out
and replaced with "Caden."

147 INT. 31Y WALK-IN CLOSET - 2029 - LATER 147
The boxes are empty as Caden finishes making the bed. The
room is decorated in a girly manner. Pink bedspread. Girly
lamps and furniture. Girly prints on the walls.

There's lots of evidence woven into the film, and even more cut out of the final product. But it's still not easy to make sense of it. This duality seems to indicate confusion about gender identity and sexual orientation in Caden or Ellen or whoever the subject of the movie actually is. I think a lot of us can relate to that, even if only a little, and this very well exemplifies that when we are looking at these parts of ourselves, there is no one of them that is the single "real" us; they are inseparable, one and the same.

With respect to the narrative, though, it's difficult to make sense of. Maybe it's impossible, in fact, and intentionally so. The foremost question is who it is that the real world sees at any given time. Was the main character Caden first and then became Ellen? Or vice versa? Or was it always just one of them?

I wondered if Ellen came first and was just living under the delusion that she was married to Adele when, in fact, she was just the housekeeper. Or perhaps Adele's lesbian lover.

I don't know if it was just my own mind, perpetually in the gutter, that felt some sort of static in the air when Maria first appeared with Adele, but I definitely felt it. Is it there? Caden certainly seems suspicious of them in that scene. Maybe it's just because they're intoxicated and he assumes that his being "bothered" while high is a universal phenomenon. But we find out later that Maria and Olive end up becoming lovers, so Maria is definitely inclined towards homosexuality. She's also quite obviously very close to Adele. It's easy to wonder just how far that closeness goes.

And then there's "Women I Love," Adele's collection of tiny paintings of naked ladies. Are they naked because "love" is meant sexually, or is the nudity more innocent or symbolic than that? Olive is among the subjects of these paintings, so I'd guess that the word is used broadly to cover friendship, motherly love, love of self... but perhaps also sexual love. ("The whole 'romantic love' thing is just projection. Right?")

Going on a momentary tangent, I also am compelled to ask, why are the paintings so small? You need magnifying lenses to even see them at all. This is another one of those things that I thought was just typical bizarre Kaufman humor, but it's not a stretch to say there's some obvious symbolism in it as well.

So, anyway, one of the paintings is of Ellen. Here's the description of the scene wherein Caden looks at the painting from the early screenplay:

He comes to a wall titled: "Women I Love." He sees
a self-portrait of Adele, a portrait of Maria, a portrait of
Olive, naked and covered in tattoos. Then he comes to a
portrait entitled "Ellen Bascomb." He steps back for a
second, unable to look. The people behind him are impatient.
Finally he flips the glasses and studies the painting. Ellen
appears to be a chubby, 40 year old white woman, her mousy
brown hair tied back in a kerchief. She is naked and
spreading her vulva for the viewer. She has a kind face and
what appears to be an appendectomy scar.

(Emphasis mine again.)

Earlier, while pondering over this movie, I wondered if maybe Caden saw this painting, noticed similarities between the subject and himself, and then used that image to conceive the Ellen of his theater. But this description would seem to say that he already knew it was himself (/herself/whatever).

Note the age attributed to Ellen. I will mention now that the age given for Caden in the first scene of the film is 40.

So, does this mean that Ellen's is the face that the world sees? And if so, does this remain true for her/his/their/its entire life? Does Ellen get a sex change and become "Caden?"

Then why, when talking with Tammy before they "fuck," does he say that he thinks he might have been better at being a woman? Is he only voicing regret? Or simple confusion? Or is all of this meaningless to unlocking an underlying narrative?

Olive refers to Caden as "Daddy" a number of times, Adele refers to him as "Dad" at least once (in the car, during the plumber conversation), and as "Caden" several times at the beginning of the film. And although I take most of Olive's diary entries as figments of Caden's imagination, one entry expresses how much better her other daddies are than drunk, smelly, rotten-toothed Caden ever was.

(Adele's two husbands also provide a gentle shove against the innuendo suggesting her lesbianism, though they certainly don't preclude her bisexuality (or even homosexuality) from being a possibility.)

Hazel never calls him anything but "Caden" that I am aware of. Nor does Claire.

Charlie Kaufman has already given us one movie (I speak of Adaptation) in which, during the process of trying to interpret it, we, the audience, are forced to ask questions about things beyond both form and content -- about the very process of the creation of the story itself. Synecdoche does not beat us quite so squarely over the head with this requirement. Adaptation was effectually about the screenplay itself; in contrast, while Synecdoche contains a lot of contemplation of the process of creation, storytelling, etc., it is first and foremost a raw and visceral attempt to make us feel something. To oversimplify and probably sound like an ass: Adaptation is about creating a story's life, whereas Synecdoche is about creating a life's story.

So, how the screenplay is made is less important in this case, but we are still led there. Is there a story being told here, in however a nontraditional way? Or is Kaufman working purely in images, sounds, and symbols to try to make us feel the emotions that he set out to stir up in the audience?

Maybe he just sat down and wrote, thinking about the things he wanted to say and just stringing scene after scene to say those things. Maybe he was speaking in universal terms, speaking of life and the conclusions that he has formed about it, unconcerned with the specifics of any given person or type of person or sequence of events. "The specifics hardly matter. Everyone's everyone." In which case, all of this searching and thinking was in vain, and I have missed the point.

Or maybe he had a specific story in mind as he wrote. Maybe as he went along, he asked himself how he could cast the events of our protagonist's life through a prism of perception so we could come closer to understanding the inner workings of that person's mind as he or she experienced various events. If this is the path he took, we could maybe figure out what is actually happening (as though it matters). Unless Kaufman decided that life is incomprehensible and confusing and can't be figured out, and he decided that the specifics should be muddled and blurred... in which case, my struggle to make sense of the mess of this film reflects the pointless struggles of the film itself.

With all that being said, is it built into the script that we will never find the answers?

I'd say that these are the most likely scenarios that we could use to explain the Caden/Ellen duality:

1. The world always sees Caden, and Ellen is a strictly internal representation of his sexual/gender conflict.
2. The world always sees Ellen, and Caden is a strictly internal representation of her sexual/gender conflict.
3. The world sees Ellen at first (i.e., the main character was born Ellen) and then she changes her sex outwardly (perhaps surgically and permanently, perhaps not).
4. The inverse of scenario #3.

There are problems with each of these, though, if you're looking for consistent evidence against all doubt.

The painting of Ellen kills off scenario #1 (for me, at least).

Caden being distressed at his reflection near the end of the July '07 script may break #2. Of course, at this point, he is playing the role of Ellen, so maybe that's the cause for his surprise. Or maybe it's just surprise at his age or state of unhealth. I'm not sure what Kaufman's intentions were with that scene.

But does it make sense that Ellen would only show up in her own psyche towards the end of her life? Even if she'd allowed the Caden part of her to step up to the forefront of her personality or what have you, why would she just suddenly be "cast" so suddenly so late in the show?

Also, Caden is definitely a father figure in Olive's life. Maybe all the instances of her and others referring to him as a father are merely being filtered through Ellen's perceptions. It seems unlikely, though.

#3 seems most likely to me, thought it's not without problems. The surprise at the reflection works against this one, too, although it doesn't quite deal a fatal blow.

But how could "Caden," anatomically a woman, produce a child with Claire? Could this give meaning to his "real daughter" comment? There's so much that's not shown that it's difficult to tell if the gaps are just omissions of obvious, mundane details, or places where (fuck you, Charlie) it would make it too easy to figure out what the hell is going on?

And Olive also could not really be his daughter. Not a problem with the scenario, really, just an observation.

What would pose a problem is Caden's confession to dying Olive concerning his abandoning her to have a homosexual affair (and more specifically, anal sex) with Eric. To repeat my thoughts from a prior post, we may have reason to doubt that this confession is a sincere one anyway. I mean, Adele took off to Germany with her. We have a few holes in time, once again, to obscure what may or may have happened afterwards, though.

I think it's very interesting that we never actually see any part of the process of divorce from Adele. But that could work in the favor of several different possibilities.

Regardless, it wouldn't make sense for Adele to start off calling the main character Caden and then to call him/her Ellen later on. Would it?

I hate it that these inconsistencies come up, because it seems so perfect in so many ways. If I can form some sort of apologetics to make these issues go away, this would appear to be a great jumping off point for unraveling the rest of the chaos of this film. It clearly explains the overt menstruation references, and the picnic dream, and the disappointment at never having had a child while simultaneously mourning the loss of a child, and probably a whole lot of other stuff.

Bah. Oh well. Moving on, and finally...

Scenario #4 seems unlikely to me because of the dream with Ellen and her mother and, again, Tammy's questioning whether Caden wishes he were a woman. (Really, I guess that's a problem with #3 as well.)

Of course, this all might be a million miles off from whatever actual explanation there may be. This is likely all meant to be taken figuratively. We've still got "you are Adele, Hazel, Claire, Olive" to contend with, so... All I can do is try to make some logical guess.

In parting, for your consideration, here's the song from the beginning of the movie that Olive sings:

There's a place I long to be
A certain town that's dear to me
Home to Mohawks and G.E.
It's called Schenectady

I was born there and I'll die there
My first home I hope to buy there
Have a kid or at least try there
Sweet Schenectady

And when I'm buried and when I'm dead
Upstate worms will eat my hand
For every person that you know
Once you say, think you've seen...
You won't see them again

There's always a last time
That you see everyone
There's always a never again

Schenectady

I watched Synecdoche, New York again last night, and I now understand more of the layering and role-switching that takes place at the end of the movie. I still do not understand the full content of the film, though. Really, I'm sort of lost even as to what direction it goes in and what the underlying structure is.

Some of what I said yesterday doesn't feel exactly right anymore, and much of it seems as though it was never meant to be quite as mysterious as it was to me upon first viewing. Then again, I've never been very good at all at these puzzle-type movies. And in a way, I'm worried that Synecdoche is a puzzle that was never meant to be solved. I don't know. But I'm going to try to figure it out, nonetheless.

I'm being forced to increasingly question whether or not anything we see in the film can be taken literally. My strong first impression was that it couldn't, that everything on the screen was being filtered through the lens of someone's mind -- probably Caden's.

Last night, when the end credits started, I flipped back a few chapters and watched the last few scenes again. I can follow everything pretty well until Caden says that he's out of ideas and that he's dead (I think it's "dead" and not "done." I'll have to check the script when it arrives this evening). He takes the part of Ellen, and then everything swiftly breaks down. I can take nothing out of these final scenes but confusion.

The problems are made clear for me by one short scene in particular: The voice in Caden's ear tells him to pick up a note from Adele, which turns out not to be from Adele at all. A male voiceover reading the note informs us that Adele has died. Caden looks at a set of picture frames next to him, which contain pictures of 1) his daughter, 2) Adele, with some other person cut mostly out, 3) Hazel, 4) an old man (I think his father), and 5) an old woman (I think his mother).

Is he still playing as Ellen in that scene? It wouldn't make much sense unless these five people were part of Ellen's life instead of his own. Which I can't discount as a possibility, because I really am confused.

We see Ellen, who is still playing the part of Caden, in bed with Eric, and in the kitchen with him, speaking to him. ("Everything is everything.") Is this supposed to mean that Caden really did have an affair with a man? I got the sense at first that his admission to Olive on her deathbed was not sincere, that he was merely seeking forgiveness so that peace could be made between them in the seconds before she passed away.

I noticed one of Caden's notes this time around, though, and it seems that his suppressed homosexuality may be more of an issue than I'd realized. Scrawled in his near-illegible hand was (if I'm not mistaken) "I think I might be gay." We also hear some things from Caden that suggest that he feels effeminate, or that he's had some internal struggle over whether or not he should have been a woman. They're not pervasive, which led me to believe that they were merely ponderous thoughts. But they are there and given the shifts that take place at the end of the movie, I have to try to examine their importance.

I have a vague notion that this doubt about his sexuality and gender may be manifesting itself in the story in the form of the various actors and roles that revolve around Caden, though it still doesn't add up to something that makes sense to me.

Of course, if one of the big issues in the movie -- or Caden's life -- is that he is, in fact, gay, I think the most important word I've used in the last few paragraphs is "suppressed." Caden lives in a world full of women. He interacts with them, almost exclusively, it seems. Just look at the top acting credits and this becomes very evident. We hear mention of Eric once, and see him three times, all in adjacent shots, and it's not Caden who is with him; it's Ellen, playing (as far as I can tell) the part of Caden.

Ellen says that she feels she somehow disappointed him, and we see Adele and hear her saying that people always disappoint you after you know them for a while. Does this imply that Caden and Eric have been together for a while?

I really do not know.

On the other side of this role-swap, you've got Caden taking instructions from Ellen on how to be her and how to feel the things she feels. At one point, she expresses regret that she never had kids. She relates a memory of her and her mother (if I understand correctly) where she's making a promise that she'll one day take her own daughter on a picnic just like the one they were having. She is greatly saddened by having failed to make this dream come true.

As Caden, she then cries and asks out loud where her (his) daughter is. It's very poignant, but confusing. The trick here, I believe is trying to separate the things she is saying to Caden through the earpiece and the things she is saying as Caden. It's so blurred together, it becomes even more difficult to reject the suggestion that they are somehow two sides of the same person.

If that is the case, then that would lead me to the conclusion that Sammy is yet another splinter of Caden's psyche.

Strange, isn't it, how the only people we ever see Caden taking auditions for are the two who want to play the part of Caden himself?

It would make other things in the movie make sense. For instance, all the times we see Sammy watching Caden, and the way Sammy appears to know everything about Caden, including his thoughts.

If I had to hazard a rough guess as to how everything would come together in this setup, I would say that Sammy would be some part of Caden's mind that he created to make himself more likeable. He is an act that he puts on, the part of himself that he decides to show to the world after he comes to the conclusion that his life will never be what he wants it to be if he lets his real self show through.

Sammy is the fun part, the joyous part, maybe also the sexual part.

This may be why Hazel seems to fall for Sammy, and then shifts her affections to Caden. She even states that she only wanted Sammy so she could get to Caden. She fell in love with the facade because it was easier to do, but ultimately, she realizes that it truly is the person inside him that she loves.

There are extra layers that would seem to complicate this line of thought; what about the man who plays Sammy? And what about Tammy's simulation of Hazel? Perhaps the latter could be a result of the unavoidable discovery that Hazel, just like everyone else, is more than she seems to be at first.

If Sammy is the outward persona, I'd guess that Ellen is the less socially acceptable parts of his sexual identity. That's why we only see her with Eric. And that's also why she does not become recognized until the end of the film. She has been repressed or suppressed -- who can say which -- but as Caden nears death, he allows himself to see her.

But again, this explanation is not without comlications. What do we then make of the dream with Ellen and her mother? Why does she lament over never having had a child if she is a part of Caden, who has two daughters? I'm left totally unsure about how much validity this theory may have.

What I'm worried about is that there is no way to put fit all the pieces of the puzzle together. More specifically, I can't completely remove the idea from my mind that perhaps the whole movie -- or most of it, at least -- is some dying dream. Life flashing before his eyes. Maybe a dying man is merely trying to make sense of his life in whatever way he can. That would disappoint me in many ways; it's too David-Lynch for my taste. Charlie Kaufman, I believe, is beyond that. I want to have hope that there's a key to all of this somewhere, but that I just haven't found it yet.

All of the playing with time that goes on seems to be the means to its own ends, but one observation has me wondering if there might be a clue in them somewhere; Caden wakes up at 7:45 at the beginning of the movie, and before he dies at the end, he sees a clock spraypainted onto a wall with the hands indicating 7:45 as well.

Hazel says that the end is built into the beginning. I don't know what to make of this connection, but it must mean something, right?

I just came across an interview with Charlie Kaufman wherein he says that the film is not a dream. This leaves me hopeful, but saying that it's not a dream isn't exclusive enough for me to understand what the movie is or is not.

Anyway, I'm not going to go quite to the same lengths in writing today as I did yesterday. I'm still considering a lot of things and should probably take some time to let my thoughts percolate a bit before putting them down in writing. (Maybe I should have thought of that before writing all of this bullshit, no?)

I'll close with a lovely list of random ideas, observations, and questions that have popped up in my head:

1. So many scenes fly by so quickly that I basically missed them the first time I watched. I'm sure there were things I missed the second time as well. One such scene: Caden uses his cane to push up a flap on a "Map to Warehouse #2" lying on the ground. Under the flap is a smaller "Map to Warehouse #2" with a flap in the same relative location. When he pushes up that flap, there is (we must assume, since it's too small to really make out the details) an even smaller copy of the map. Like a tunnel of mirrors.
2. What the hell is with Caden's father randomly walking into the room and saying, "Hey, kiddos," when (I think) Caden and Adele are discussing her going to Germany in the kitchen?
3. The house is on fire and it still makes me laugh, but I still haven't decided what it is I believe it's intended to mean.
4. The titles he chooses for his play are 1) Simulacrum, 2) Flawed Light of Love and Grief, 3) Unknown, Unkissed, and Lost, 4) The Obscure Moon Lighting an Obscure World, and 5) Infectious Diseases in Cattle
5. At the movie's end, Caden (as Ellen) mentions that the buildings in the "theater" are full of other people's dreams and memories, and that he would never know them. Strange, vague idea: What if the buildings are people, or perhaps representations of their lives? Recall the scene wherein Caden orders one building set to be walled up, that set being the one with Claire flirting with another actor. He's done being a part of her life, so... the walls get built. And what would that mean for Hazel's burning home?
6. Who is the person who is partially cut out of the picture of Adele that Caden looks at when he finds out that she died?
7. Does Caden really marry Claire? I don't have a lot of reasons to question this, but my gut tells me maybe I should.
8. Why is Caden so distant from Ariel? Why does he act like Olive is basically the only real daughter he has?
9. Of what significance is Sammy's suicide?
10. Why are there paintings of Ellen in Adele's collection?
11. What is with the cow and sheep cartoons?
12. Of what significance is cleaning?

I'm going to be digging through the shooting script this evening, and a set of earlier scripts I found. Maybe I'll find some clues there.