Douchebaggotry is a state of mind, not a lifestyle. Just because a guy isn’t decked out in Ed Hardy, or chugging buckets of Colt 45 with his fellow tsongs, it doesn’t mean he’s not a self-involved, narcissistic dickhead. Even seemingly nice guys can prove themselves to be grade-A douchebags, under the right circumstances.
Case in point: the protagonists of various films by director Cameron Crowe in the past ten years, at least prior to their journeys towards enlightened self-discovery. The lead characters of Jerry Maguire, Vanilla Sky, and Elizabethtown all start out as pompous, insensitive jerks, singularly obsessed with their yuppie career aspirations, even if they put up a careful veneer of well-adjusted, genial professionalism.
But worry not! Crowe seems to believe these insufferable ass-hats are not beyond salvation. They just need to undo their massive neuroses by getting in touch with their vulnerable inner selves. This usually starts with a breakup from their Ideal Girlfriend, the loss of their Perfect Job, or both. This is normally followed by a journey or road trip of some kind, inevitably leading them back to the hometown of their youth.
There, removed from the glitz of urban life, our heroes are free to sort out unresolved parental drama, or reconnect with estranged friends, often via the intercession of a Manic Pixie Dream Girl type. In fact, it’s such a predictable formula that lesser imitators such as Zach Braff (Garden State), Ethan Hawke (The Hottest State), and Jonathan Kasdan (In The Land Of Women) have practically appropriated this narrative wholesale.
Of course, every great journey needs a fitting soundtrack! Heck, Zack Braff’s handpicked selection for Garden State won a Grammy for Best Compilation Soundtrack Album for a Motion Picture in 2005. (And in case you’ve been off the proverbial radar for the last half decade or so, the Garden State OST includes the song by The Shins that this website is named after. It’s the one that Natalie Portman’s character insists will “change your life”.)
So with that, I give you the first half of a playlist in the spirit of Cameron Crowe’s Douchebag Redemption oeuvre. It covers the period from the Douchebag’s initial high life, up to the nadir of his rapid fall, immediately before he starts the journey to (re)discover his True Self.
02. Ferraby Lionheart – “Small Planet”
03. The Mamas & the Papas – “Monday, Monday”
04. The Pierces – “Kill! Kill! Kill!”
05. Slow Club – “Me and You”
06. Nickel Creek – “Spit On A Stranger”
07. The Elected – “A Time For Emily”
08. Patsy Cline – “Three Cigarettes In An Ashtray”
09. Amy Millan – “Losin’ You”
10. Chris Walla – “Everybody Needs A Home”
Download “Almanac of the Heart: A Douchebag’s Redemption Mixtape, Part 1″
if you want to be snooty about the term, I believe this douchebag redemption can also be classified as “Kierkegaard’s Narrative”. Yes? And uh no, I don’t read Kierkegaard. I found this http://www.kitoba.com/pedia/Kierkegaards+Narrative.html while researching on High Fidelity one time.
But yes, I suppose “douchebag redemption” is more descriptive.
Posted by kannika | 03.08.2010, 10:10 pm@kannina haha! We appreciate the insight
Posted by alice | 03.09.2010, 2:22 pm@Kannika: Cheers for sharing! Admittedly, I wasn’t aware of that phrase before you mentioned it, but it opens up several related lines of thought:
i) Does Kierkegard’s Narrative apply only to characters who are conventional serial daters? That seems to be the case in the philosopher’s books, but NOT in the films allegedly inspired by them, other than High Fidelity.
If anything, the qualities attributed to “the Aesthete” and “the Repeater” fit the description of a completely different character archetype: the neurotic urban nebbish. I’m thinking more like Woody Allen protagonists, or the title character from Portnoy’s Complaint by Philip Roth. Or heck, even the guy from (500) Days of Summer kinda fits the bill.
I suspect the author of the piece you linked to is trying to force Kierkegaard’s ideas to fit his own reading of the films mentioned. Or possibly vice versa.
ii) Was the Elliott Smith album, Either/Or, named after Kierkegaard’s book? Must look that up! In any case, it seems apt, given that Smith’s entire discography fits a little too perfectly as a score for the generic Douchebag Redemption narrative (which is why I deliberately avoided using any of his songs on my playlist, brilliant as they may be).
iii) I have very conflicted opinions about Kierkegaard’s idea of the “Knight of Faith”/Married Man (as I understand it, anyway), for various reasons that are (obviously) extremely personal. Let me *attempt* to sum it up briefly: being a “Knight of Faith” basically entails making the conscious (and presumably rational) decision to remain committed to one relationship, on the basis that the emotional and material benefits (companionship, shared passions, etc.) outweigh all the possible alternatives that one is giving up. In a way, it’s a bit like Spinoza’s leap of faith, but with a person rather than god. But the problem is that even if one finds him/herself essentially satisfied with the relationship they’ve chosen, it still means having to deal with a steady parade of what-ifs and could-have-beens. So while I may have been on Kierkegaard’s moral high ground in my previous relationship (which lasted a bit longer than a decade), I was also plagued with all kinds of uncertainties about what chances i’d passed over; especially when i’m blessed/cursed with such a rich capacity for making up hypothetical situations, or imagining alternate realities. So even if the stable “Married Man” is the ‘sensible’ or ‘mature’ option, and not necessarily undesirable, it might not be the one most conducive for personal growth or even lasting happiness.
Okay, at this point, this reply has become longer and more unwieldy than most blog posts. Needless to say, your comment got my brain all fired up, so consider yourself duly thanked.
Posted by paolo | 03.11.2010, 3:00 am