James Spader used to be one of those pretty boy actors, one who never appealed to me, at all, back when he was a pretty boy, and he doesn’t do a whole lot for me these days, nor did his Sex and Lies and Videotape, or really any of his movies, but the character he helped create in Alan Shore just totally turned me on.
That’s me. I’ve always had a thing for characters, and not very many of them have been real people. It’s not about hero worship, or looking for Prince Charming or Mr. Wonderful or anything, most of the imaginary characters of my Heartthrobs Trilogy are kind of wounded, flawed in ways tragically romantic.
Well, maybe Simon Templar wasn’t, but I was like, 3 when I fell in love with him. I’m pretty sure I was pushing 50 when Alan Shore showed up, it’s not like I hadn’t been around the block a time or two by then and learned the ways of guys like The Saint.
Alan weren’t no Saint, that’s for sure. He wasn't nearly as dashing as old Simon, either, even if he still did kind of think he was, he was starting to go to fat already, getting pudgy. Besides, I never was all that into his pretty boy looks, I liked him better in his pudgy, screwed up vulnerability.
Besides, he was epically brilliant. And passionate, and he gave those earth moving closing arguments, ranted like no other. I totally dig brilliant ranters, especially deeply wounded ones like Alan, such mother issues he had, the inseams thing, and probably father issues, too, although I don’t recall him talking much about his father back there on the balcony at Crane, Poole, and Schmidt with Denny and me.
And Denny was such a lovable douchebag.
That Alan married him crushed me, but I got it. That’s who Alan was. The storyline fantasy I’d created for him had to come to an end. As much as I admired his relationship with Denny, I sure wasn’t going to live with the guy in his old age, no way, and Alan and I sure weren’t going to be getting it on with Denny around.
That guy was a pervert.