He was on my couch, moping. He had taken to moping. “I can play lead! I’m good looking enough. I’m not some Wallace Shawn or Saul Rubinek. I can—“ “This isn’t about playing leads, is it?” I knew him well enough to know that when he started talking bad about his career, there was usually some sort of relationship subtext involved. That was the kind of guy he was. “I’m also quite sick of being mistaken for John Favreau. We don’t even look that much alike.” He was dodging the subject. I knew this for two reasons. First, his eyes shifted in a way that made me realize mistaken identity was the least of his troubles. And second, I knew that secretly, he loved being mistaken for John Favreau. Wouldn’t we all, if given the chance? “Well, Piv, I’m quite sick of you dodging the important stuff. You’re ignoring turd in the punch bowl, so to speak. What’s going on?” I was pacing and turning for dramatic effect. Jeremy’s eyes became wide. Wider than they were when Serendipity went into post-production. “Okay. I’ll tell. You can’t let this get out, though. It’s a blow. It’s a big one, you know? A big blow.” Sometimes when Piven gets excited, he stops making sense. “So tell me.” “Dustin Hoffman said I was a no good hack. When we were filming Runaway Jury. He said, and I quote, ‘I like that Cusak.’ He was talking to Gene Hackman, by the way. They didn’t think anyone was listening, especially not me, but I was. Oh, was I ever! He said, ‘I like that Cusak. He’s got some talent, but what’s with that Piven? He’s a no good hack.’ And then Gene muttered something about kids these days under his breath and that was it.” Then Jeremy gave me this look of, “Don’t you feel sorry for me?” I remember seeing that same look in The Family Man. I did, though. Feel sorry for him, that is. A great actor like Dustin Hoffman. It must sting. And it’ll probably continue to sting for a long time. |