Riki, please lose that number
Posted on 10.25.06 by John Paulsen @ 1:34 pm

First they skewered Owen Wilson in an open letter to his brother, Luke. Now the guys from Steely Dan (Donald Fagen and Walter Becker) have set their sites on Wes Anderson, writer/director of “Rushmore,” “The Royal Tenenbaums” and “The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou.” Apparently, Steely Dan is a big fan of Anderson’s first film, “Bottle Rocket,” but they feel that his subsequent films have been progressively worse.

These follow-ups have all concerned themselves with the theme we like to call “the enervated family of origin”©, from which springs diverse subplots also largely concerned with the failure to fulfill early promise. Again, each film increasingly relies on eccentric visual detail, period wardrobe, idiosyncratic and overwrought set design, and music supervision that leans heavily on somewhat obscure 60’s “British Invasion” tracks a-jangle with twelve-string guitars, harpsichords and mandolins. The company of players, while excellent, retains pretty much the same tone and function from film to film. Indeed, you must be aware that your career as an auteur is mirrored in the lives of your beloved characters as they struggle in vain to duplicate early glories.

Steely Dan goes on to outline two strategies to “help” Anderson get back on track, providing lyrics to two separate songs that they’ve written for his next project. But before they agree to work with Anderson, there are a few conditions…

Same thing for the mandolins and the twelve-string stuff and the harpsichord, they’re out. You yourself may be partial to those particular instruments. We’re not. Remember, we saw “Tom Jones” in its original theatrical release when we were still in high school, we had to listen to “Walk Away Renee” all through college and we fucking opened for Roger McGuinn in the seventies, so all that “jingle-jangle morning” shit is no big thrill for us, OK?

I find these letters fascinating, not so much for their flowery words or content, but for the simple fact that these guys from Steely Dan actually think that anyone gives a fuck what they think about a movie.

The only explanation I can come up with is that somewhere in this universe, there is a tear in the space/time continuum, which leads to a parallel universe where the guys in Steely Dan are highly respected film critics. And somehow these letters got through…damn wi-fi.

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