Day Tripper.

I’ve been practicing social distancing my whole life. Just saying. 

But today, I’m taking it from six feet to 29 miles. I’ll get into details on Monday, but let’s just say I’m indescribably excited and if you don’t hear from me, just know I died doing what I love.

Not The Droid He’s Looking For.

If I were a Stormtrooper, I would just throw gum in Chewbacca’s fur. 

That said, Ricky tempted fate.

Happy Belated Achievement Day To Me.

Until last year, my biggest achievement was wearing a hat to bed and having it still be on my head in the morning.

It’s since changed. I’ll explain.

Podcaster Adam Carolla has an interesting theory about birthdays: celebrate your achievement day instead. Everyone was born. That’s easy. Why not instead honor the date of something you’re very proud of accomplishing?

Last year, I had only a few days to memorize what was essentially an eight-page monologue that was the climax of a Lifetime movie. Daunting, but I knew it could be big for my career.

I spoke to my friend Jay Mohr about it, and he told me about his life-changing role in Jerry Maguire. Jay studied his lines night and day. He ran the words as Bugs Bunny, and in a Russian accent. He had friends call him randomly and mention a word from his lines, putting him on the spot to finish the sentence. He wanted to be prepared in every way on set if they started and stopped at any of his words. I followed suit.

The morning of July 27, 2019, I was dragging, having shot late the night before. But as I arrived at the home on location where we were shooting, the lighting guy came walking out the front door and joked with me to make the night scene go quickly. Suddenly I became empowered and joked with him, “For you, I’ll do it one take.”

Before we shot that scene, I had some very physical action, in which I was hit in the stomach first with a bat, and then with a pool cue. I was beat up and sweaty as we broke for lunch at 11 p.m. I thought about going over my lines for the big monologue, but then I thought, nah, I’ve got this.

As we blocked the scene, running the lines quickly, I knew every word. The director, Lisa France, was blown away. And then when we shot, I owned the set. I performed the scene in the middle of the night, with lots of words and physical business, and was in the zone. It was my favorite moment of acting ever. My achievement day.

Take a moment and think about yours. Though keep in mind, these days, existing is a pretty remarkable achievement.

This’ll Work.

Some brazen folks feel the need to go into stores without face masks and start trouble. Even I wouldn’t do that. And I’m America’s bad-boy.

But I think I can straddle the line with a Clint Eastwood face mask. The stubble/cigar is an iconic badass look, sure to show cashiers I mean business. If they’re old fans of class cinema. But still. 

The Bigger Crime Is Its Score.

After the movie Cats premiered to harsh criticism this past year, critic Nate Adams reviewed it very succinctly: “Congratulations to dogs.”

Sometimes they nail it, and sometimes not so much. Motherless Brooklyn debuted on HBO the other night, and I didn’t know anything about it, so I checked Rotten Tomatoes. It was barely fresh at 63%. Bad.

But I had a hunch. The cast looked great. I watched it. I loved it. I highly recommend it.

Edward Norton stars in it, plus he directed it and adapted the screenplay from a novel. He changed the movie’s setting from 1999 to the early 50s – mainly because he wanted to direct a period piece. The result was a phenomenal slick-talking noir thriller, with Norton as a self-designated detective terribly afflicted with Tourrette Syndrome.

New York never looked better. Norton even recreated the original Penn Station, with its classic iron and glass archways and ceiling, before it was replaced by a low-ceiling, bland rat trap. This is particularly notable because the storyline involves a character based on evil, racist New York City planner Robert Moses, who erased much of the charm of New York and drove the Dodgers out of town. It’s been said that Moses replacing Penn Station kicked off the architectural preservation movement in America. At least thanks for that, douche.

The point of this blog entry is that everyone should watch this film. You can blame me if you think 63% was accurate but I don’t think you will. It’s amazing, and when we’re stuck at home starved for entertainment, this delivers. Sure, it’s two hours and 25 minutes long, but another smart critic (Roger Ebert) once said: “If a movie is great, it can never be long enough.” I wanted even more.

They Saved Him A Seat.

Baseball is back/ My Yankees are 1–0. And Brody Stevens has been immortalized.

To soften some of the extreme oddness of games being played in empty ballparks, some teams have placed life-size foam-core cutouts of fans in the stands. Here in LA, the Dodgers have a cutout of Brody Stevens, a great comedian and incredibly nice guy who tragically took his own life last year. I blogged about him. You can read it here.

When Brody’s cutout was shown during last night’s broadcast, I took a pic and sent it to the Sklar brothers, comedians who loved Brody as well. They used my pic in a tweet.

This is actually the greatest thing ever. Want to cry. 818 till we die. Enjoy it. You are with us Brody, always. pic.twitter.com/kOzcNG2Ie7

— The Sklar Brothers (@SklarBrothers) July 24, 2020

Representing 818 in section 18 during a Dodger 8-1 victory. Rest in heaven.

Bursting With Motivation.

One of my favorite podcasters has been saying he’s “on hiatus.” I guess that sounds better than “my mom took away my laptop.”

I’ll use a different term: intermission. That’s what my quarantine videos are in the middle of right now. But I’ll be damned if Ricky isn’t still very much on, tempting me with his spit bubbles and what not.

Sooner than later, we’ll get back to it. I’ve got a dog who can’t even shut it down in his sleep.

Golden Child.

I went to a puppy gender reveal party, and the result was boy, girl, girl, boy, boy, girl, boy, girl. 

Almost as exciting: a gender reveal on the beach yesterday. As soon as the blue smoke appeared for the couple, above left, the guys playing volleyball erupted into “It’s a boy!” and the rest of us whooped it up.

A little bit of happy in an otherwise difficult year.

Temporarily Back On Camera.

My goal is to audition for a laundry detergent commercial just so I can splash brightly-colored food on myself on purpose.

It’s still a dream, but I did get to audition for the first time in a while, to play a lead in a sitcom.

I recorded it remotely with an assist from my friend Dwayne, and it’s pretty wishful thinking the show will actually begin shooting this month if I get the role, but I got to do what I love: act. And wear long pants. Remember them?

Someday maybe I’ll spill food on those pants on camera. Kill two birds.

Play Ball-Ish.

I’m not saying my brother and his wife were afraid of my nephew when he was three years old, but they did rock paper scissors to determine who was going to take the baseball bat from him.

Nine years later, his hitting skills are paying off. His little league season may have been canceled, but he’s staying in shape. I took him to Hitter’s House, a swanky indoor batting cage, so he could take some swings.

I pushed him until he had to lay down, and then I threatened to start the pitching machine back up before he stepped back into the batter’s box.

Who’s afraid of who now?

I Risk iPhones For This.

I need a Magic 8-Ball to see if I’m walking over to the beach this weekend or if I’m reshaking it until I am.

It’s true– I’m having surprisingly great summer. A good gauge: even my feet have never been so tan. Maybe I’ll post a pic of them. At the very least, it’ll increase my readership among men’s prisons.

Speaking of which, these days, you can either do the time, or let the time do you. I choose the former.

My Comedy Reel.

My quarantine has been like the movie The Sound of Music, but with less singing and more Nazis. 

That said, I’ve been productive whenever possible, including updating my comedy reel. Take a gander:

A Fancy Excerpt From A Great Friend.

Nothing is exactly as it seems. The 250 million year old Himalayan salt I bought expires in February, 2021.

Much illusion also applies to Alice Marble, the 1930s tennis star with a very secret life off the court. One of my best friends, Rob Weintraub, wrote a book about her that is available today. Yesterday, the New York Post ran an excerpt. It’s really good. Check it out.

Summer Of Matt, Cont.

It’s not day-drinking if you didn’t sleep the night before.

I met my friend Rob Farber, a kickass commercial producer, on a worldwide commercial shoot a few years ago, and we instantly bonded. He flew into town from New York on Saturday and is staying at the very tony Sunset Marquis for the next two weeks. Rob barely put his bags down in his room before we went straight to the high-roller pool for drinks. Away from his wife and three kids, he’s an elite wingman.

And what a room. Rob is only the second person to stay in this suite, newly remodeled by the owner himself. (Mark Rosenthal, whose dad named the hotel after him in the 60s.) It’s a fitting accommodation for Rob, who on our monthlong shoot in New York, China, India and Brazil booked only first-class plane flights and five-star hotels.

The epitome of Rob Farber: promotional giveaway vitamin B hangover patches. This’ll be a good two weeks.

My TV Movie Is On Again Tonight.

You know how sharks die if they ever stop swimming? It’s the same with me and self-promotion.

My Lifetime movie, Her Secret Family Killer, is on twice tonight – at 10 p.m., and then later tonight at 2 a.m. Not on Lifetime, but on its cousin, LMN. Lifetime Movie Network.

Watch it because it’s a really well-done thriller. Or, watch it because I’m one of the leads. Or because continued good ratings beget even more residuals for me. Dealer’s choice.

Let’s Watch This.

I like watching documentaries about murderers, because I know I’m doing better than every person in the movie.

But I think I’ll love HBO’s newest documentary, Showbiz Kids. It follows the highs and real lows of being a child actor, with interviews featuring Henry Thomas, Will Wheaton and Evan Rachel Wood. It’s written and directed by Alex Winter, who starred in Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure, and has grown up to be a great documentarian.

We may not have sports, or anything for that matter right now, but we still have HBO summer documentaries. Set the DVR. It airs Tuesday night.

My New Drama Reel.

It seems like the “how to use a fire extinguisher” video on YouTube shouldn’t have a 30-second ad before it.

I think there should also be no delay watching me, so I put my new drama reel on commercial-free Vimeo. You can watch it here:
Gigantic credit to my friends Aina and Bru, who took so much time crafting this for me. Actors: hire them. They’re the best at this.

Summer Of Matt.

When I make it huge, I’m going to fill a swimming pool with Diet Coke and hire people to throw Mentos in there the whole time I swim.

Until then, my brother’s neighbors have given us full access to their pool, and we have an arsenal of Super Soakers and waterproof phone pouches. Even if the murder hornets finally get their shit together, we are armed, and ready.

Mandatory Summer Reading.

When people try to debate me online, I just suggest they read a book I make up that doesn’t exist.

But here’s a real, new book: The Divine Miss Marble. I grew with up the author, Rob Weintraub, who remains one of my closest friends. He’s incredibly talented, with an engaging writing style, and this is his fourth book. He spent the past year researching across the country, including St. Louis, LA and up the coast in California.

Alice Marble was a tennis star in the 1930s with a very colorful personal life. Here are some back-cover details:

According to Alice, she married a man who was killed in the skies over Europe during World War II. But who was the man she loved, and had he even existed? She was widely known for her patriotism during World War II. Had she really nearly given her life for her country as a spy, shot during a wild car chase fleeing foreign espionage agents? 

Read it now, because you know it’s going to be adapted into a kickass movie starring Charlize Theron, but you, YOU read it way before then. Pre-order here.

I Shot A Man In Reno Just To Watch Him Dry.

I always hold open doors and let ladies through first because, you know, snipers.

You best not be on the business end of my Super Soaker. Especially if I need to extinguish your cigarette. Or if you’re my nephew, who swallowed his weight in chlorine. America.

How’s Your Long Weekend?

So, what are you guys doing for the other 3/4ths of July?

My phone finally cooled down from the beach yesterday. It’s all bonus from here.

What To Watch This Long Weekend.

I’m finally getting around to calling all those kids that wrote in my middle school yearbook “We should hang out this summer.”

I know – no one of will be hanging with anyone this summer, including Frank Tassone. He’d better not show his face in the Roslyn school district ever.

I would have recommended Bad Education when it first aired in April, but I was busy forcing my dog to act. Now I’m telling you – watch it on whatever HBO is currently calling its on-demand app. The movie would have been in theaters, but HBO wisely snatched it up at Sundance and aired it themselves.

It’s riveting. It’s a true story. It’s SO Long Island. It stars Hugh Jackman and Allison Janney. I made my mom stay up late and watch it the week it began airing, and she loved it. Who are you to disagree?

How I’m Also Spending My Hiatus, By Matthew Shevin.

This pistol holds nine bullets. In case I’m looking to kill one cat.