Impenetrable mysteries of the Gyllenverse, part III

We're all thinking it: how many pairs of sneakers does Jake have, and just what does he do with them all?

I have a theory about this one, but it has absolutely no basis in reality whatsoever. Just something that sounds good to me, so I'm sticking with it until he makes a statement disproving it. My theory later. First, let's talk about...

Jake Gyllenhaal's Nike Sneaker Addiction
According to this completely unscientific survey from Mister Poll, the average consumer's sneakers last between six months and two years before they need replacement. Sure, there are those who like to have a few different pairs around for different activities, I suppose. Maybe three, tops.

In my investigation, I went back to the beginning of September this year to learn just how many different Nike sneakers Jake has been seen in.

• September 4: Having started the day wearing what look to my amateur eyes to be a pair of Adidas, one of his rare departures from the Nike swoosh, Jake shows off these Nikes while out to dinner in Los Angeles.



• September 9: In New York for the start of the Rendition press tour, Jake takes in some U.S. Open tennis with his friend, wearing this pair. Wave to the scumbag pap, Jake!



• September 15: RE-TREAD--Jake takes a stroll in SoHo with director Noah Baumbach. Apparently, he has brought a single pair of Nikes to NY, and has not had the chance to shop for more.



• September 25: Back home in Los Angeles, Jake valet parks for coffee in a new pair of swooshes. He'll later be photographed in the bizarre big-necked blue sweatshirt two three five days in a row, but this particular pair of Nikes is never seen again.



• October 10: Once more leaving Joan's on Third in L.A., with one of the assorted lucky assistant types that alternate in his service, Jake wears what honestly could be something other than Nikes, but let's count them anyway since they don't have the obvious appearance of another brand. And they're different from the last pair.



• October 23: Still wearing his then-favorite tan t-shirt, Jake takes a walk in L.A. with Brothers director Jim Sheridan, introducing us to the longest-running pair of Nikes so far in the study.



• October 28: RE-TREAD #1--Jake wears them again when he attends a concert in the company of Robert Downey, Jr. at a club in West Hollywood. He has, however, switched off to the gray t-shirt.



• October 31: RE-TREAD #2--For an unprecedented third time, we see Jake wearing the pale Nikes with the red-outlined swoosh and the yellow heel insert in the sole as he approaches his ride in Beverly Hills. This was the day of the infamous "pap-slap," possibly inspired by sneaker ennui. (Later that night, Jake was photographed wearing these completely unidentifiable [by me] reflective sneakers, in addition to a gorilla suit).



• November 2: RE-TREAD #3 (!!)--Nevertheless, when Jake gets papped arriving at a basketball game at L.A.'s Staples Center, the gray-yellow-red Nikes are back for one last hurrah.



• November 6: I've never seen anyone so beautiful in all my life. Ahem! Sorry, on with it. Walking with Reese in an L.A. parking lot, Jake coordinates a new pair of Nikes with his oddly sexy sweat shorts. The orange shirt is...less sexy, but on Jake, does it really matter?



• November 9: Somewhere in a garage in Los Angeles, Jake Gyllenhaal debuts his SEVENTH pair of Nike sneakers in two months. He also dons the same layered shirts that I admired so from the Clippers game. Thanks, baby!

There you have it. Seven distinct pairs of Nike sneakers over the span of sixty-six days. And those are just the ones captured in photographs. Who knows how many different Nikes he wore on the days in between?

My theory is sort of developed around the observation that Jake has been known to re-wear several sets of non-sneaker foot attire (the battered black boots and the thong-sandals come to mind), but once we see him in a different pair of Nikes, the previous pairs never appear again. This new-sneaker addiction, an observable quirk, is all the more prominent because of Jake's well-documented penchant for wearing the same clothes over a span of a year or more. Also, every pair of sneakers we see him in looks brand new. He never seems to wear them out. Does Jake test shoes for Nike? One might reasonably make such a guess. I think, however, that Jake loves to buy new sneakers, loves to coordinate them with his clothes when possible, but then almost immediately sees something new that he wants.

Therefore, my official Jake Gyllenhaal Nike Sneaker Disposition Theory is that Jake wears the sneakers once or twice and then donates them somewhere. I know, it's a stretch, but it certainly fits the evidence. It's nicer to believe this than imagine a room in his house dedicated to forgotten Nikes, piled knee-deep, the door kept locked except when he comes home to discard the latest castoffs as he prepares to break in yet another new pair.

All photos: IHJ.

Worth a shot

Here's something I've been compiling in my head for a few days. I finally had a chance to start putting it down while I was in the doctor's office waiting room this morning. Please, settle back now and enjoy...


Attention Jake Gyllenhaal: Ten Reasons Why You Should Marry Me

1. You won't have to bend nearly double to kiss me. All it will take is a gentle dip of your head. In fact, all of our parts will line up perfectly. You could grab my ass without dislocating your shoulder. And while my self-esteem may not be exemplary, I do know that my ass is very much worth grabbing. Trust me.


2. There is no ex for you to be compared with in my past. In any department. No matter what you say or do, it's all new to me and not something to be submitted to my own subconscious grade scale.


3. I always carry my own damn purse, which is not suitcase-sized, and when I don't feel like carrying one, I leave it at home. Plus, I've been known to carry the wallet of my male companion in said purse upon request, so he wouldn't have to sit on a lump while driving or in a movie theater seat.


4. I don't find you the least bit boring. Going to clubs holds no appeal to me. My idea of a perfect evening is to spend it curled up on the couch with you, just talking, or watching a movie together. Walks on the beach are also highly ranked. Hell, walks anywhere would be great, and my legs are as long as yours, so you don't have to worry about adjusting your stride to accommodate mine.


5. Your work and mine will never cause scheduling conflicts. Actually, once I get to California I have no idea what work I'll be doing, unless I can get a writing grant. But I am free to travel with you when desired, or stay at home and water the plants. Either way, I'll take loving care of Atticus so you can concentrate on your job.


6. Speaking of dependents, I currently have none of the human variety. I am more than willing to change that, granted the appropriate partner (i.e. yourself). Our children are statistically assured to be tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed angels like their Daddy. Just do a Punnett square if you don't believe me. (I know that looks aren't everything, but this is a nice bonus.)


7. Should you, however, be in the mood for romping with children immediately, my nephew and your niece are close enough in age to make terrific playmates for each other. He's a good-natured, happy baby who loves male voices.


8. That need of yours, to have an audience, will always be satisfied with genuine interest, occasional eye rolling, frequent warm indulgence and hearty laughter. I'm already doing all of that, because there's no one and nothing I love to watch more than you.


9. You love to cook. I hate to cook. And we both hate the taste of cilantro. You can order me around the kitchen, or order me to get the hell out while you conjure whatever culinary magic your heart desires. I will eat anything you serve, willingly, eagerly, with lust in my eyes and appreciative noises issuing from my throat. Umm.


10. My absolute non-celebrity will make our couplehood spectacularly uninteresting to the tabloids and press. No one is going to ask you questions about me while you're trying to promote a movie, unless they happen to actually know and care about both of us, which is unlikely. Of course, paparazzi are still going to chase you, because you're so damn photogenic, but half of them will probably mistake me for your sister anyway.

All photos: IHJ.

Let me in

I tremble with the need to touch you.

This ache, long savored,
swells, filling my being
at the sight of your photographed image.

That you don't understand what your pictures bring
is part of the uncanny grace that makes you worth looking at.

So much of what you are is reflected
in glimpses, snapped
like this one
capturing a moment
of shyness
of sweetness
of subtle, tantalizing mischief
as the photographer no doubt has directed this half-naked stance.

So far beyond the mere aesthetic,
your profound beauty,
and it radiates through every still frame,
every candid exposure;
your expression says you think this photo will be pure beefcake, silly.

I see it with my heart.

Not a man without his shirt
but a man, full of humility, and humor, and a desire to please.

That is the genius of this photograph: it captures the essence of you.

And that is why I tremble.

My aching, yes, to caress the dark swirls on golden skin
and in doing, touch the man inside. You.


Photo by Mario Testino, as featured in Let Me in, by way of jakegyllenhaalfan.com.

Screwed

I'm trying to remain positive about this. (Being positive about anything at this hour when my mood has not yet risen to a completely functional elevation is daunting, so hopefully you'll understand if I fail to sound enthusiastic.) There's more news this morning, courtesy of the Hollywood Reporter, about that mysterious project Variety mentioned the other day. According to them, both Jake Gyllenhaal and Jessica Biel are "attached" to Nailed, a "risque political satire" to be directed by David O. Russell.

Risque political satire.

That sounds refreshing, actually. Except the political part. I love Jake's selectivity and principled choices, but he's already being pigeonholed by some critics as too political. Anyway, that's not the point. The point I was gonna make has to do with HR's description of the plot.

Biel would play Sammy Joyce, a socially awkward small-town receptionist who has a nail accidentally shot into her head by a clumsy workman, eliciting wild sexual urges.

The uninsured Joyce goes on a crusade to Washington to fight for the rights of the bizarrely injured. She meets an immoral congressman (Gyllenhaal) who takes advantage of her sex drive and capitalizes on her crusade as Joyce heads into her own career in politics.

Ugh.

For those who are wondering why I'm not on my knees thanking god or whatever powers responsible that Jake is guaranteed to have a sex scene if this movie happens, please allow me to explain. No, actually, I think this Cinema Blend post effectively demonstrates it well enough. I'm not saying I make the same assumption that Josh Tyler has, only that his take is completely reasonable and probably not unique.

But I said I was trying to be positive, so here goes. First, Jake's potential role sounds smarmy and somewhat villainous, which would be absolutely delicious. Second, yeah, the probable (I hate to jinx it by saying inevitable) sex scene(s). Yes, I really did mean to put that second. Because as much as I fantasize about Jake and would love to be helped along by some new material, the context does matter to me. And third, satire. That's even better than a romcom, if you ask me, as long as it's well-written and directed. So, my intrigue at the floated title has grown into guarded optimism that the project will not be dismissed by critics based on its synopsis and will actually become something keen and titillating at the same time.

That is, if it happens at all. I don't know what the rules are in Hollywood. What needs to transpire before someone can say an actor is "attached" to his or her project, anyway? A phone call to someone's agent to see if they're interested? A pie-in-the-sky wish? HR clearly states that no contracts exist, yet.

Meanwhile, there's confusion about whether Brothers has already begun filming, like, last week, or today, or when. IMDb still says principal photography begins on November 27, while posters to the site's message board say trailers for the actors are already setup onsite at the College of Santa Fe in New Mexico. That Jake suddenly shaved off the beard he's been telling everyone was grown specifically for this movie has certainly added to the confusion. My friends know I always thought the beard was premature anyway, probably half for some kind of Brothers pre-production and half for the orneriness of keeping it when everyone seemed to be complaining. Whether the beard was only needed for scenes that have already been filmed, will reappear soon, or was never meant for the movie to begin with (maybe he just said that to stop people from asking about it), it's nice to have something vitally important to debate again.

It's love

What you want and what is the truth are always two different things. -- Jake Gyllenhaal

Sweetheart, I couldn't have said it better myself.

Well, maybe I could have, but I wouldn't have looked nearly as good saying it.

Evidence that Rendition is still playing in at least one major metropolitan area: for whatever reason, this interview with Jake (the source of the quote above), which I'm guessing was taped in Toronto during the film festival, just appeared today on the Chicago CBS affiliate's website. Of course, they may have aired it earlier for all I know, since I do not live in Chicago.

Anyway, as you can see, I'm here, having not killed myself as promised. It's hard to estimate just how strangers reading my words have interpreted my depression; some would say I should not worry about what others think of me, but I'm suddenly feeling the need to express a very important fact about what's been happening to me. I want everyone to know, and understand, the truth: I was not made suicidal by the sudden revelation that Jake Gyllenhaal was romantically involved with someone.

I've been depressed for most of my life, clinically. On medication, which you may have noticed me joking about more than once. When the chemicals in your brain are imbalanced like mine, almost anything can trigger a deep trough, a black period in which life literally loses all meaning. In this case, the last in a series of mental health tripwires was my self-assessment in the wake of my reaction to the relationship "news." Unfortunately, knowing why you are depressed does not, contrary to what might seem logical, make the depression go away. My medication has been adjusted, and while the improvement so far can more likely be attributed to yet another mood swing than the meds, I feel better knowing I will feel better.

Positive signs:

1. I have not cried all day today. No, wait, that's not exactly true. I did weep a little after watching Mask on cable. Oh, and again at the end of Stranger Than Fiction. I was drawn into it by Emma Thompson and Maggie Gyllenhaal (whose performance left me talking back to Jake's image on my computer monitor--Your sister fucking rocks, baby!). Is it just me, or is Will Ferrell the most utterly charmless film star ever? On the Charm Continuum, if Jake Gyllenhaal is at one extreme (given), Ferrell is definitely at the other, infinitely dissipating extreme. But I digress.
2. I'm starting to look forward to moving to California again.
3. Best of all, I found myself smiling uncontrollably while downloading all those images of Jake that I've been meaning to grab...including those featuring him with Reese Witherspoon.

To my great relief, in fact, I have been grinning, laughing and squeeing over Jake all day long. The concept that he might actually be as wonderful as he seems is no longer irrationally unsettling to me. I still love him, more than ever, and I'm grateful all over again for the pleasure he brings to my life. Wanting to be with him won't make it come true, but it fills the gaps with a perfect sweetness.

Photos: jakegyllenhaalfan.com, IHJ.