|
May
/ June 2006:
Breaking
Up Is Hard To Do
While his romantic comedy
The Break Up starring Vince Vaughn and Jennifer
Aniston is hitting screens this month, screenwriter
and producer Jeremy Garelick will be tying the knot
to his longtime girlfriend. Ironic? Perhaps. But it's
par for the course for Hollywood's newest hit maker.
Profile by E. B. Solomont | Photo by Rebecca Weiss
When screenwriter Jeremy Garelick sold his first major script a few years back, one of the first calls he made — like any good Jewish boy — was to his mother. Garelick was in his 20s, and had just landed a deal beyond his wildest expectations, earning a six-figure paycheck that Hollywood reporters deemed an "impressive" accomplishment for him and his writing partner, Jay Lavender. By any standard, it was an auspicious start for the duo in their first turn out of the gate.
But Susan Garelick was skeptical. "Now is it time for you to get married?" she asked her youngest child and only son. This, from a woman who came to all of Garelick's high school football games, with a sign that read, "Be careful, tatele."
More than three years later, she's getting her wish — just in time for Garelick's career to take off. This June, the writer will see the script he penned hit theaters nationwide as Jennifer Aniston and Vince Vaughn star in The Break Up, a romantic comedy about a couple whose split leaves them at odds over their shared condo. Days later he will marry Samantha Rifkin, a longtime family friend and a woman he knew he'd marry on their first date.
The whirlwind of events is something straight out of a romantic comedy Garelick could have written, had he not been so busy nurturing a career making others laugh. One of his favorite mottos these days is something he once heard Bill Cosby say: That the second-greatest feeling in the world is laughing, while the best feeling is making someone else laugh. "That rang true," says Garelick, 30, who is sure to hear some chuckles at his upcoming movie.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Talking to Garelick in early March, it was easy to bypass previous written accounts of his career to see the various elements that have undoubtedly led to his success. Dressed casually in cargo pants and a striped shirt, with a fedora perched on top of his head, he reveals an innate storytelling ability, unspooling over several hours at a dive bar of his choosing in Manhattan.
Fueled by boundless energy (in fact, he stood up more than once from his barstool and made a loose reference to having ADD), Garelick shares stories about being a child of the ‘70s and ‘80s, growing up in New York, and the things that matter most to him: family, his fiancée, football, and religion. The latter perhaps defines all other experiences, including his current inclusion in Hollywood's "Observant Mafia" — an association of like-minded Jews, and his personal religious trajectory, which has risen over the past five years and includes weekly study sessions with his rabbi, increased observance, and a love for Shabbat dinners.
What's clear is that had Garelick not landed in Hollywood, football may have been his career choice. He started playing as a kid, and says he had the distinction of being the only Jew on the football team (and feeling like the only football player among the Jews). Athletics aside, he said he was defined by experiences like bringing a tuna sandwich to a celebratory non-kosher steak dinner at his coach's house. His parents gave him strong moral values and taught him "what's important in life," via their own hands-on charity work.
Alas, a foot injury at Yale ended any dream he may have had of being a pro athlete. But Garelick's raison d'etre had emerged early on, when he discovered his comic gift — whether his audience was his parents, friends, or admissions officials at the different Ivy League colleges where he sent essays resembling stand-up monologues.
Garelick wound up at Yale, where he auditioned for a spot in the prestigious theater department after rejecting majors in economics (which he hated), philosophy (which he didn't understand), and math (which he really didn't understand). For his audition, he dressed up as a homeless prophet, and thought, "If I can get into this, I can be in the major and it'll be so easy!" he recalls.
The judges laughed, but Garelick received a call the next day from acclaimed director and then-Yale professor James DePaul, who told him he was a terrible actor. His essay (about Burt Reynolds' miraculous mustache), though, was the funniest DePaul had read, and Garelick was offered a spot. From then on, he took courses in creative writing, theater and film, but ultimately felt that screenwriting was the most natural for him, because he could write the way people really speak, and could assign realistic behavior to characters on screen.
Fast-forward to the present — where The Break Up is no exception to this particular style. Garelick says the movie reflects his life, his relationships — and his flaws. "These are things that are straight out of my life," he says. In one scene, for example, Brooke (Aniston) has just sent Gary (Vaughn) on an errand to get a dozen lemons, although as the story goes, the store only has three. Garelick laughs as he describes the story as it happened to him. "In my head," he recalled thinking, "Do I go home now, on time with three lemons, or do I go late, with twelve?" He opted for more lemons.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A week before the Academy Awards, Garelick shares that and other anecdotes, pausing to sip his beer or dodge pool cues near a particularly active table. Clearly at ease, his calm demeanor gave no indication that he's poised for the kind of success many young screenwriters only dream about. Without a doubt, The Break Up is a major accomplishment for him and Lavender, who were hired to write the script based on Vaughn's original idea in one of the industry's largest spec sales in recent years, according to various media reports. For his part, Garelick is humble about his accomplishments, alternatively calling himself "extremely blessed," and adopting a self-deprecating attitude. When he starts a sentence with the truly original word, "filmically," he immediately laughs at himself, and says, "The good part of being a successful writer and going to Yale is that people believe you ... you can make stuff up."
Later, his fiancée, Samantha, tells me over the phone that Garelick's humility and ability to make her laugh are two of "a million" things she loves about him. "He's the most approachable, kind, generous, friendly, fun-loving guy that everyone always loves to be around," she gushes. "And he's very handsome, too."
By any standard, Garelick has earned his way professionally: interning for Hollywood producers during college, toiling away as an assistant at the Creative Artists Agency, and enduring long hours on set as a director's assistant. Garelick has also been groomed by the best, having worked for creator/writer David Milch (of N.Y.P.D. Blue and Deadwood fame), as well as director Joel Schumacher, whom Garelick calls a "father figure" to him. Indeed, Schumacher is hosting one of the seven traditional parties held the week after a Jewish wedding for Jeremy and Samantha.
Garelick speaks warmly about the stars of The Break Up too — especially Vaughn who he has remained extremely tight with. Perhaps out of deference to others' privacy though, he spoke most freely about his own Hollywood experience so far, including rubbing shoulders with athletes at Hollywood parties and being a Jewish writer in Hollywood. The stereotype about Jews controlling Hollywood? "Well, they do!" Garelick jokes.
Not surprisingly amid a conversation about being Jewish in Hollywood, the discussion veers toward the ultimate Jew in media and his controversial Oscar nominated movie. (For those who don't know, "who" is Steven Spielberg and "what" is Munich, which depicted Israel's response to an attack on the Israeli athletes competing at the 1972 Olympics.)
In the darkened bar, and perhaps empowered by hours of conversation, Garelick grows impassioned about Munich, for which he spares no niceties and criticizes for flaws in the story line. He reserves some vitriol for Spielberg, too: "You're a Jew. You're not only a Jew, you're the most powerful Jew in the media. Why take the Palestinian side in the war?"
It's a telling perspective, and shortly thereafter, Garelick calls his fiancée and a friend to join us at the bar, where he demands their perspectives on the controversial flick. He reconciles his disappointment with the film by saying he probably wouldn't make a movie that takes a political or religious view, for fear of alienating his audience.
For Garelick, talking about movies — the ones he likes and the ones he doesn't — comes easier than discussing his own. "I love what I do. I love writing and making movies, but it's my job," he admits. Still, The Break Up represents only a fraction of what is sure to be his impending success. In fact, he is already at work on another movie for Universal Studios, and he is also working on an independent movie that is an adaptation of Two Guys from Verona.
He easily punts attempts to talk more about his career, and at one point in the bar says: "I'm not rushing toward the next step ... I've enjoyed everything along the way." Decoded, this no doubt includes learning to box in Chicago (where The Break Up was filmed last summer), marrying the woman he loves, and celebrating the premiere of his movie. Regarding the latter, the down-to-earth Jewish kid from New York sheds a bit of Hollywood glamour for a minute and says he can't wait to attend the red carpet with his parents, so that he can be with them to hear the sound of what Cosby said — and Garelick believes — is the ultimate pleasure: an audience's laughter. 
If you'd like to comment on this article, email
us a Letter to the Editor.
|
