Not Much Owen Wilson Rubbed Off On Matt Dillon
The date: July 10th
The place: 81st at Columbus
Sighted: "Saw Matt Dillon about an hour ago at Starbucks wearing large sunglasses and a black t-shirt, holding his cell phone three inches in front of his face and whining into it while waiting for his coffee order. Looks like he recently had a chin-tuck."
Some people might argue that observing and chronicling the daily activities of celebrities is a hobby of the mean-spirited, bored and miserable. These people may have a minuscule point. But, they are also stupid. And obviously drunk ALL the time. Because, since the famous person is simply a richer, better-looking version of us, in watching them we learn about ourselves. In celebrity veritas, if you will. And the above sighting of Matt Dillon is totes a Cliff's Notes version of the sibling rivalry chapter of any psychology textbook. Let's explore.
Back in the late 80's and early 90's Matt Dillon was very hot. All chiseled and brooding and badass. And, since movie-goers enjoy hot people, his career took off. He dated Cameron Diaz and Brooke Shields, he had on-screen threesomes with Neve Campbell and Denise Richards, life was nothing but green lights, ice cream, and free smack. His younger brother Kevin, however, was the victim of one of those unfortunate genetic twists where similar features don't work as well on one sibling as they do on the other. His career reflected this appropriately.
But things change. Time passes, you stop doing the smack, your chin disappears into your neck fat, and your brother gets a part on an HBO hit playing, Alanically, the less-famous brother of a star. Meanwhile, you're getting listed underneath Michael Keaton on the IMDB page for Herbie Fully Loaded and working on a film from the acclaimed director of that John Travolta-in-a-do-rag romp, Wild Hogs.
The point is this: Career dysfunction or collapse is bad enough for the fragile celebrity ego, but when you add to it the fact that your younger sibling's career is (magically, mysteriously) taking off, the pain must be unbearable. (It is for us.) And yes, "You, Me and Dupree" was such a good-grossing step in the right direction—but he had to play straight boring man to Owen Wilson, thereby only cementing the perceptions of him as an aging, less-cool fella.
It's all enough to make a man slap on his best Paris-style Chanel's and take a trip to Starbucks with his cell on speaker in the hopes of getting noticed. It's not a bad philosophy. Maybe Jessica Simpson should try it.
