There is something about him that ever so perfectly captures everything that is perfect and glorious in the world, be it his lovingly cared for beard, or his every so subtle smile and wink combo that he flashes so beautifully in all of his movies, or even his faint, caustic, dry delivery of lines in Van Wilder that fire the garters of my loins.
Chop that wood you sexy man beast you.
When it comes right down to it, to me, the man can do no wrong. Almost… no wrong. It is today that I have heard one of my dreams have come true: A Sequel to Van Wilder, and ironically, as with anything that brings me such rainbow colored fantasy gum drop happiness, there is a horrible dark side to it. Van Wilder 2, did not cast Ryan Reynolds.
Immediately upon hearing this news, my heart sank to the very pits of my stomach, drenched in seething vitriolic acid, layered on thick with my own internal ladle of crushed dreams. The magnitude of it all, ever so slightly crushing my spirit, and hopes, that one day… I again would get to experience for the first time Ryan Reynold’s comedy genius. I think Roger Ebert put it best, “You can only see a movie for the first time once.” And such is so for Ryan Reynolds amazingly jaw dropping hilarity, and beautiful execution of said hilarity.
Every wink, every nod, every flutter of his soft, supple lips turns the hairs on the back of my neck on end, and I once again fall into the Ryan Reynolds haze of adoration that overwhelmes me when I see him. Nights I lay awake, hoping that one day, perhaps, in the future, he’ll make it up, perhaps a sequel to Buying the Cow? A Blade spinoff movie of the Night Stalkers? What dreams may come of his glistening biceps, curiously holding a shotgun fused with silver, dedicated to the extermination of werewolves.
Days I have spent, sitting alone, watching my reruns of Two Guys on WE,( Damn you ABC for not releasing this comedic goldmine on DVD!), and then subsequently tivo-ing every on air showcasing of Buying the Cow, or that episode of Sabrina the Teenage witch he was on. He and that cat Salem make the greatest comedic duo of our time. Every visit to Best Buys comedy section becomes another reminder of how forgotten the brilliance of Ryan Reynolds’ comedy is, given that there ARE no Ryan Reynolds sections, when there so obviously should be at least an entire isle dedicated to his sexy furrowed brow, and sarcastic tone. At Blockbuster, I always make sure the copies of Van Wilder are prominently displayed amongst all other comedies, as well as resist to the urge to get on my knees and atone for not sufficiently spreading the word of his brilliance and beauty.
Everything from his 5 minutes in Harold and Kumar, to his 90 minute opus of godliness and sensationalism that is Van Wilder, brings a sense of pride, lust, joy and love that can barely be rivalled by any other force. His cosmic aura is so prominently beamed into my soul whenever he exudes it onscreen, and his love and charisma fills up my body and makes me tingle in ways that only magical pixies and fairies can substitute. He is a golden chisled grecian drug, broadcast on television, encoded on dvd, screened in theaters for all to enjoy.While I know his radiance is mass marketed to the public, I can’t help but feel like sometimes he is talking directly to me. I sometimes feel like I can reach out to him, through the screen, and comfort him with whispers of sweet nothings, and promises of beautiful romantic cruises, followed by tanning and backrubs.
Of course I have to realize that these things are only beautiful speculations of what could be. A daydream of delight crafted every so perfectly by a man-god. And if the conspirators of the universe, the forces that bind us one day decide again, to unite two forms, it would be blessed upon me to become one with Ryan Reynolds, and henceforth be known as Ryadam Reynoldolopovich.
Some dream of flying, I dream of Ryan Reynolds.