Jeff Fahey: A Prospective Glance

It was while walking downtown yesterday, adjacent to the ambulations of a medium-sized man who moved with the lanky posture of a much taller man, he should have been born six foot nine instead of five foot nine, and whilst a girl in a yellow mohair anorak walked past me mispronouncing ‘bourgeois,’ that I thought, “I wonder what Jeff Fahey is doing right now?”

The thought was like a javelin cast off from the mouldy fingers of Marduk himself, it pierced my hitherto relaxed mind with fury, breaking the reverie and startling my recessed senses. I felt suddenly very out of place, as people traversed around my now inert self. I moved to depart the area as quickly as possible, rapidly making the requisite motions past hoards of middle-management Human Resource cronies as they ingested their daily helping of tacos and schoolgirls. Reaching the traffic lights I was bade an awkward wait for our green friend as my fellow waiters and I were compelled to subjugate our gazes to the sky in order to avoid gawking at a collapsed octogenarian on the opposite side, the weight of the nearby coffee emporium oppressing the entire situation.

Once staggered in the door of my abode, I wasted no time powering up the eMachines. The jutting feeling of repulsion and dejection slowly lessened its reign on my mind as the cackles of the internet filled the room with a healthy aroma of information. I fired my browser in the direction of The Internet Movie Database, stomped the ethereal words ‘Jeff Fahey’ into the search contraption and let the wisdom engulf me.

Not only does Fahey possess the most spectacular and consonant of filmographies, as was already well-known, but it seems age is not slowing him down in the slightest. He remains as consistent with his output as though he was a young Jobe once again. Far be it for me to have the capabilities to shed luminosity on his art only just released or to be released soon, but I will nevertheless attempt some sort of previewing roundup.

Firstly there’s Split Second. The IMDB (and the entire internet for that matter) lacks any substantial details on this flick, so I will assume it’s a tongue-in-cheek remake of the Rutger Hauer film of the same name. A film I never saw incidentally, but while Hauer might have some pretty blue eyes, obviously Fahey outstrips him in the blue department. And with ease at that. It’s almost a joke to even offer Hauer up for comparison; Blind Fury may have been pretty cool back in the day, but how does The Hitcher compare with Sketch Artist 2: Hands That See?

They don’t even compare, that’s how.

Next we have Only The Brave. The official website proclaims it “a searing portrait of war and prejudice,” all about the quandaries surrounding Asian-Americans during World War 2. Very well, but why is it that Fahey has no credit in the trailer? Mark Dacascos has one, and he never even spoke once during that flash of snippets. Yet Fahey, who gets to give a heartrending thanks to a lowly sergeant, gets less than nothing. It’s a snub of epic proportions. The website might have a cast page dedicated to Fahey, featuring an image where Fahey seems to be emitting the electromagnetic waves of light solely from his face, but it’s too little too late. Jason Scott Lee won’t attract the cinephiles, neither will the late Mr Miyagi. The filmmakers here are playing with fire, and are going to be burned by flaming meteors of Fahey if they do not rectify this injustice.

Fahey also does not seem to have a character name, so I can only assume that he is the eponymous Brave.

Absolute Zero has Fahey starring as Dr David Kotzman, a scientist who discovers that a second ice age is beginning in Miami. As the snowy weather envelopes the Floridian city, Fahey and his peons find themselves trapped and, unknowing whether the rest of the planet is suffering this same malady, and are forced to duel with the elements.

Now I know what you are thinking, it even crossed my mind a few times as I researched the project: does Fahey have to fight a vicious Ice-monster? Does Fahey surf the icy surface of the strip in prolonged combat with a heinous stalactite beast? Is Fahey relegated to having a fistfight with an anthropomorphic ice-pop?

The truth is I don’t know. But I can’t wait to find out; this is perhaps the most exciting of the coming Faheys. We can only hope that it’ll blast itself onto a bottom shelf somewhere as soon as possible. Rarely do such original premises materialize in the film industry, this is one of them. Although, admittedly, it does sound a tiny bit similar to that Dennis Quaid film from a few years back, what was it called? Oh yeah, Innerspace. Remember that scene where Martin Short gets half-frozen in the meat truck? What a great film that was.

A very interesting standout in the Fahey filmography is Diablita, which apparently is still being made in 2005. This shows just how much of a professional Fahey truly is, not even the passing of years can prevent him from doing his work. Well this flick concerns a screenwriter whose filmic idea is taken over by some rowdy execs and turned into a madcap escapade, lots of guns, fast cars, and, according to the website, it is “T&A laden.” Now on this last point, from browsing the production stills, I can verify that there are indeed some very pleasant ladies involved in said production.

And what of Fahey? He’s there, suited out and looking big. It’ll be a blockbuster for sure. This could be the big one for our Jeff. People mocked, people said to give up on Fahey, “move over to C. Thomas Howell,” they spouted, “he’s got a buncha new lower shelf fare and TV movies coming out for you to salivate over.” But no, Diablita will make The Lawnmower Man look like Darkhunters. Don’t be surprised to see Fahey swishing dollar bills in a wine glass next to Johnny Depp in a chic L.A nightclub this time next year.

I leave you with a reminder to never forget the wonderment and compassion of the man, he is an aegis for us all. Jeff Fahey is the cascading grass in Onibaba, the bare bosom of Emmanuelle Beart in Manon Des Sources, the use of the word “intercrural” in Will Self’s Greg Matter, and the cheeky, drug-addled grin of Jennifer Connelly in Requiem For A Dream all in one.