Professional Liars, Public vs. Private, and Three Hot Guys
I’ve been trying to write a new blog for a couple of days. And I did. I just didn’t post it. It turned out too personal and too raw to send off into the world. Since writing it, I’ve been stuck. I’ve discarded a bunch of half-written, too-boring, who-cares-about-that blogs. If I’m bored, you’re going to be bored. I strive to be many things, and boring isn’t one of them.
So, now what? Now we have a frivolous post. Why? Because I’m feeling shallow.
Last night, I was watching Pretty Little Liars (don’t judge me; it’s a smart show) to relax. Then I watched White Collar. Every time I watch WC, I fall a little bit more in love with Matt Bomer. Sure, I don’t know him personally. And I know enough about characters to know that he is not Neal Caffrey. But sweet fancy java, that man can wear a suit and a fedora very well.
He is one of my very favorite tv boyfriends (there are two others: Alexander Skarsgard and Ian Somerhalder). While I was watching the episode, I started to wonder about actors. They spend most of their time pretending to be someone else. They tell a story not just with words, but their entire being. It’s nothing short of impressive.
I wonder, then, how difficult it is to let somebody in. If that constant pretending, of Being Other, starts to infringe upon one’s core identity.
…I said I was writing a frivolous post, didn’t I? Er, scratch that. *dives deeper*
Everyone is at least two people. There’s a Public Persona and a Private Persona. Neither of these facets are false. It’s all situational and contextual. For instance, the lady who teaches Sunday school – she is what you’d call straight-laced. She wears beige cardigans. Her hair is done at the beauty parlor. And she has perfected what I call the Death Mom Glare. Caution: it may wilt plants and singe small children.
Then you find out that she frequently rents the unrated version of a certain movie about Los Vegas dancers. The very same movie that killed Elizabeth Berekley’s career.
Public, meet Private. It’s unsettling, sometimes.
Being an actor has to be weird, sometimes. People run up to you on the street. They ask you to sign their cleavage. They think they know you, and to some extent, they do. They know a little bit about your public persona. To an extent, that’s really all we know about most people, initially.
Actors, like writers, are professional liars. For work. One hopes that doesn’t extend over into one’s social life. We’re not our work, but our work IS us. So, I don’t know if Matt Bomer drinks coffee – or if Alexander Skarsgard likes Italian food (does anyone NOT like Italian food?). I can say that I admire their acting, their craft.
And yes, Matt does have one hell of a smile.
Let’s be frivolous again — who are your favorite tv boyfriends/girlfriends?