The Courier humour editor takes a completely unnecessary look at the weird career of a guy that was once a pretty big movie star.
Adam Wallace (he/him) // Humour Editor
Jamie Kennedy’s acting career started with a bang in 1996. Not only did he secure the role of Sampson in Baz Luhrmann’s Shakespeare adaptation, Romeo + Juliet, but he landed the part of slasher aficionado Randy Meeks in Wes Craven’s Scream. In the span of less than two months, he went from being in no movies to two blockbusters. And, well….
It’s 5:06 a.m. on Tuesday, December 10th. I’m way past late with the “Jamie Kennedy Article,” mainly because I have no fucking clue what I’m actually supposed to write.
Jamie Kennedy isn’t a compelling subject to write an article about. Nobody knows who he is. Nobody knows why I’m talking about him. And I’m even more fucked because I’ve been putting off this article for so long that now it has to be worthwhile. Do you, the reader, know who Jamie Kennedy is? Scream and Scream 2? Son of the Mask? Malibu’s Most Wanted? Anything ring a bell? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.
He’s a comedian/actor from the late ‘90s and early 2000s, and my fascination with him looms a heavy spectre over my waking life. His haunted aura is that of the hometown quarterback still working at the grocery store by his high school well into his 40s. He relentlessly posts nearly incoherent videos where he slurs to the camera about how the Democrats are just the worst.
I think I’m losing it. I can’t sleep. My eyes hurt. When I lay in my bed and close my eyes, I get a sudden urge to watch yet another movie starring Jamie Kennedy. Maybe I’ll be surprised. Maybe he’s a burgeoning character actor worthy of reappraisal. He is good in Scream, after all. But no. It’s never good. It’s never what I want it to be. I want to feel like I discovered a gem that I can brag to my friends about; that I discovered the worn & buried genius of a man who was once on top of the world. But no, it’s always a detached, muted, grey-haired, slurred speech performance.
He went on to have his own prank show on MTV, the aptly named Jamie Kennedy Experiment. What did he do? Well, some funny bits here and there. It’s not that bad. Well… I’m being nice. It’s pretty awful.
What happened that led him to lose it all? Will it happen to me? And I don’t mean the money or the fame, that’s another thing. I’m talking about his joie de vivre. He used to have a light in his eyes and a spark in his step. But now he has the haggard face and permanent frown of a fisherman. In fact… He should be in a movie playing a fisherman. He would knock that shit out of the park.
Is this where I’m headed? Is the light in me fading out to a frown and a conservative mean streak? I’m finished.
Why am I telling you this? What’s the fucking point? We’re all dying. The sun is going to explode. Nothing we do inherently matters, and the only meaning my stupid brain is able to find in life is an article about Jamie Kennedy. Why’d I pitch this? Who’s this for? There are other people who work at the Capilano Courier that write about important things. Things that resonate with me in a profound way. But here I am! I can’t even write an article about a subject that nobody cares about in the first place.
Is there hope for Jamie Kennedy? Is there redemption around the corner? Please. Play a hardened fisherman who’s a struggling single father in an indie drama, Jamie. Get nominated for an Oscar. I don’t know why, but if you can’t succeed, I feel all my hope is lost in this world.
