He was silent all through “Charlie’s Angels,” but Crispin has a lot to say in person.

I recently saw Crispin Hellion Glover at the IFC Center in Manhattan.  He was in town promoting his films “What is it?” and “It Is Fine, EVERYTHING IS FINE” with readings from eight (!) of his books in something called a “Big Slide Show,” which preceded whatever film was being shown that night. I went both nights to see both films.

Glover’s books are essentially antique texts reformed into new work with added writing and pictures, creating an often amusing and unsettling effect.  During the slideshow, Glover reads through slides of pages of the book, dramatizing the words and interacting with graphics.

Then there are the films.  A lot has been said about them and I really can’t add anything more, apart from how they made me feel.  They both pushed me into unfamiliar territory and I felt uncomfortable, which is sort of thrilling for me, since I’m incredibly jaded about many things (yes, Asians love jade).

After each film, Glover launched into an exhaustive 70 minutes-plus Q&A/talkback.  One question could launch a 15-20 minute reply.  Glover was well aware of how much he was talking, saying that he’d read online about how people felt that he “rambled” during the Q&As; yet, by doing so, he was answering a lot of other unasked questions.  True enough, as the night went on, there was a sense that all potential queries were addressed.

One of the most important things I had to hear was that when he was younger (playing the father-in-the-past in “Back to the Future”), Glover said that he would turn down work because the characters and the stories wouldn’t fit the psychology that reflected his interests.  Later, though, he realized that he could take roles that would help his acting career, make more money and pour it into films that he really wanted to make, hence “What is it?” and “It Is Fine, EVERYTHING IS FINE.”  Those movies were basically funded with the role he took in the Charlie’s Angels films.  Once he was in that mindset, he discovered he could actually have fun acting in movies he didn’t necessarily find fulfilling to his personal artistic sense.

On the second night, I picked up the three books offered for sale (Oak-Mot, Rat Catching and Concrete Inspection) not so much because I enjoyed his slideshow presentation of the books, but really as souvenirs for one (two?) of the most strange, compelling and generous live performances I’ve ever seen.  Also, Glover is still recouping for the films with the shows.  He says he can tour at a more leisurely pace now, with the success of Alice in Wonderland.  These tours take a lot out of him.  It’s easy to see why.  He did the equivalent of two solo shows each night.

I salute you heavily, Crispin Hellion Glover, as a man who approaches his art whole-heartedly!

Waylaid by Weirdness by Ed Lin

A lot of great things happen at readings, enough to make it more than worth my while to step up to the mic. I like hearing that someone loved my book—it made them laugh, cry, whatever. One guy even told me that he read my first novel, Waylaid, in one sitting. On the toilet.

Hey, it made me laugh.

The only downside to readings is when the Weirdies show up. Weirdies love mouthing along during the reading; asking many, many questions during the Q&A; and following the author for blocks afterward.

More here.

So on Friday I went to go check out what turned out to be a not-very-interesting play. Yet there was some intriguing drama — co-starring me and very capable actor Mark Ruffalo.

Let me just say from the outset that I’m a fan of Ruffalo’s work. He was great in You Can Count on Me and more recently, Zodiac.

In any case, while the audience was still arriving before the show, I had my nose in my program. Because I was close to the aisle, I had to stand up a few times to let people into my row.

Some guy dropped next to me and started fiddling around with a smartphone. A lot of people were. I didn’t pay much attention to him and kept reading the program.

When the lights came down, there was much fidgeting in the audience as people turned off their devices and socked them away. But I noticed that the guy next to me had left his device on and it was blinking.

A minute later, it was pretty clear that the blinking wasn’t a part of a shutdown sequence. Because the offender had his hand on top of his device, he couldn’t see the blinking, although I had an unobstructed view of it.

I hate people who don’t turn their shit off — more so those who continue to text friends during movies and plays. I don’t even care if it’s new and you thought you hit the off switch. You paid for it, so at least learn how to use it!

So in the second minute of the play I turned to the guy and said, not too kindly, “Could you please turn that off? It’s very distracting!”

He leaned out of the shadows and I could see his face by the light of the blinking smartphone. Gee, I thought, that guy kinda looks like Mark Ruffalo.

“I don’t have anything on!” insisted the Ruffalo-look-a-like.

“Dude, it’s blinking!” I said. Gee, I thought, that guy even kinda sounds like Mark Ruffalo. I saw a measure of scrutiny in his eyes. Maybe he wasn’t used to being spoken to in that way and he was evaluating my face that was surely illuminated by the blinking light of his smartphone.

Who the fuck is this guy, maybe he was thinking. Chow Yun-Fat? Damn, he kicked some ass in The Killer!

Suddenly he looked down, moved his hand and literally saw the light.

“Oh, sorry, sorry, sorry!” he blurted.

I turned back to the play.

Damn, I thought, I just put the hammer to Mark Ruffalo.

At intermission and at the end of the play, I thought I caught some sullen looks from him. Maybe he wanted to say something. Introduce himself.

“Hey, I’m an actor myself, so I know all about being a respectful audience member.” Something like that.

It didn’t happen. I could’ve approached him, but for what? It would have merely extended an awkward exchange to an awkward conversation.

I left the theater, got a can of Dr. Pepper and went home.