It’s Not Too Late To Not Hate Jeff Daniels
So I’ve been thinking lately how Jeff Daniels has a pretty good case on his hand if he felt like suing Aaron Sorkin. Just by taking one lousy (and I mean that in the hostile sense, not the adorable, lispy child star sense) role, he has obliterated a whole career’s worth of affability. I mean have you seen the expressions on people’s face when you mention the man’s name these days? He’s edging over toward contempt territory and once that happens, it’s over.
You know how back when we used paper, there’d be like a little chart in a magazine with dotted lines around it and a tiny scissor icon that meant you were supposed to cut it out and hang it on your fridge or something? And do you also remember the movie Fifty First Dates where Drew Barrymore has amnesia and so Adam Sandler has to play a tape about their relationship every day so that she can remember that she loves him? Well, this is those two ideas smushed together. Here’s a handy primer to remind you of all the other times you kept right on liking him even when…
…he was playing a washed up, burly bearded writer in the Squid and the Whalte who was sleeping with one of his students.
… or slicking back his hair in the Purple Rose of Cairo and tricking Mia Farrow into choosing the harsh reality of her depression era life over the glamorous black and white movie world.
…or returning his hair to it’s natural floppy state in Terms of Endearment in order to cheat on the cutest, froggy-voiciest wife in the world Debra Winger.
If only Purple Rose of Cairo were real so that Jeff Daniels could step into a Breaking Bad episode and get Saul Goodman to represent him. He’d totally get Sorkin to settle out of court.