Keanu Reaves and the Ghost of Akira, the quarter billion dollar boy
I’m not sure whether I learned to act or if the rest of the world learned how to watch me. I put on a tape of me in Johnny Mnemonic and then quickly switched over to The Matrix. I couldn’t see much difference really. My suit fits better in The Matrix.
This might be the difference.
I tap out a cigarette in an ashtray. The old me would have put it in a can of Mountain Dew.
I am accumulating evidence on things that have changed about Keanu Reeves. CGI has advanced a lot, so I do a lot of my acting without people around now. That might be a factor.
I am not going to make that Akira movie. I make that clear to my agent. I accidentally do a move from Johnny Mnemonic where I act like I am shaking an invisible steering wheel in front of him and my voice gets louder way too rapidly.
But he doesn’t seem to notice. Evidence is accumulating that nothing has changed.
I take my Afghan for a walk on the beach. It’s a kind of dog. I guess that is one thing that has changed: it is now possible that a man in America could take someone from Afghanistan out on a leash.
Possible in the fields of easy imagination, anywhere. The place where movies are made. Or marketed at least.
Anyway, Archie and I are kicking up some sand together. Archie makes me smile. That’s important. I don’t MIND the Sad Keanu meme exactly, but it gets in the way of my project. I am looking at movie me, real me, ‘then’ me and ‘now’ me. Don’t throw ‘meme’ me in there too.
Who’s a good boy Archie!
I run into that producer.
Firstly, I tell him, Neo New York is just crazy. Crazy like white Akira.
But you are part Asian, Keanu! he says.
And I am part teenager, I say, so I am perfect for the role. And I am part cartoon.
What’s eating you Keanu? What’s this really all about Keanu? Why can’t I get you in my live action remake of Otomo’s anime classic.
I point to the ocean. A huge black bubble the size of Santa Monica appears.
His mouth quivers and his hair blows back and he says “ga ah!!!!!”
That is the ghost of a quarter billion dollars, I tell him. If I touch your quarter billion dollar movie, I will cease to exist and I will never know if I have changed.
A tidal wave comes and engulfs us. I swim in it. I end up on the boulevard by the vegan place. No dog, Mr Keanu, they say, until I remind them that there is egg in their mock chicken.
I order one of their mock chicken sandwiches as I endure the wet dog smell and I guess Archie endures the even worse ‘wet human’ smell.
Which came first: the Mock Chicken or the egg?
Today I have taken a step towards the truth. But who knows what tomorrow may hold?