On being Biff

You know the face right? Sure, it looks a little older than when you first saw it. But still, your mind instantly knows exactly who it is. And why you recognize him.

Isn’t that right, butthead?

Along with Anthony Hopkins as Hannibal Lecter, Ralph Fiennes as Lord Voldemort, Anthony Perkins as Norman Bates and Margaret Hamilton as the Wicked Witch just to name a few, Tom Wilson is in the unique and rarified position of having been one of the screen’s most iconic villains, Biff Tannen, in the wildly successful Back To The Future series.

As Tom points out in his revealing new YouTube documentary, Humbly Super Famous, being Biff is both a blessing and a curse.

In the film, Tom takes us on his journey to getting cast in the role, which he initially didn't want, and how surprisingly close it was to his own experience growing up.

Not being the bully, but being the victim of bullying on almost a daily basis.

There are sweet moments in the film, like fans tearfully talking about how BTTF changed their lives, and how much the film means to them. There are also surreal moments as well, like when a hospital employee wants to talk about the movie and Tom’s role while his mom is in her last moments. It’s those encounters that leave you shaking your head.

Another story about how Tom, fresh off his second hip replacement surgery, has a fan encounter in a restaurant while he’s eating, and despite the excruciating pain of standing up, does it without complaint to accommodate the fan’s request.

In the film we also meet Tom’s beautiful family, his son and daughters. His wife Caroline appears, though only in photographs, and with a label covering her face that says “wife.”

Full disclosure: I know Tom. We met through our mutual friend Ned when he was shooting BTTF. And while I wouldn’t call us close friends, we’ve run into each other several times over the years at different events—bar mitzvahs, a wedding, another wedding, out by the Korean BBQ truck—and every time, Tom is a funny, giving, gregarious, inclusive and a joyful instigator of fun. My kids and my wife adore him. When they know Tom's going to be somewhere we are, they prepare themselves to have their sides hurt from laughing and ask me to drive there faster.

Even if I didn't know him, I'd tell you to do yourself a favor and watch Humbly Super Famous. You’ll see why Tom is really nothing like Biff.

Now go on, make like a tree and get out of here.

Where's my HBO documentary?

I've been watching the HBO documentary on Steven Spielberg, and enjoying it thoroughly. I'm learning things I never knew, like the Star Wars crawl at the opening was Brian DePalma's idea. That Spielberg has three sisters. That his mom divorced his dad then married his dad's best friend (floosy).

I'm certainly not about to compare myself to Spielberg. After all, we have very different skill sets. I've never directed an Academy Award winning film. He's never written a Hyundai banner ad.

I know, it doesn't sound as glamorous as what he does. But that's only because it's not.

The point is, I have lots of interesting things that've happened to me in my life, many of which I've written about here, that might add up to a swell HBO documentary. Or even a limited run series. I even have some ideas about who could play me in the dramatic recreations of pivotal events in my life. Depending on my weight at the time, it could run anywhere from Michael Fassbender to Kevin James. I might be getting ahead of myself.

Deep movie trailer announcer voice over: In a world where truth is stranger than fiction, this Tuesday at 9 on JEFF....

Sure, everyone has stories to tell, but not everyone's stories are deserving of a documentary. And lest you forget, I'm an only child. So we already know the world revolves around me.

Look, I have celebrity friends. I've locked myself in a hotel bathroom in New York. I buried both my parents (yes it was after they died). I've hung off the seventeenth floor of an apartment building. I've flown helicopters. I've worked with Advertising Hall of Fame legends. I've copped to my shortcomings, and taken responsibility for my mistakes. I've broken bones (yes they were mine).

It's been a life full of comedy, drama, action, romance and suspense. A story of love and loss, all based on true events. An epic tale of a life well lived - so far. Complex, emotional, heart-wrenching and, as anyone who knows me will tell you, filled with conflict. Like all the best stories.

Interesting characters? I've spent most of my adult life working in ad agencies—my life story is lousy with 'em.

When it comes to the A B C's of me, there's a lot of ground to cover. I think an experienced documentary filmmaker, someone like Ken Burns for example, would do a fine job of bringing perspective and meaning to the events that've shaped me. God knows someone has to.

An important element to any documentary is the narration, which means it's critical the voiceover chosen for the job imbues the proper tone and feeling of the subject matter. I'm thinking Morgan Freeman. I love what he did for those penguins.

With it's high standard of excellence, unrelenting attention to detail, long-standing relationships with the documentary filmmaker community, I really believe HBO is the only premium channel with the bona fides to do a life story like mine the justice it deserves.

And if for some reason they don't want it, I'll add some Nazis and dinosaurs and bring it to the History Channel.

Who's doing the talking here

I've always had a morbid fascination with ventriloquists. What other kind of fascination could you have with them?

Years ago, I was freelancing for the Fox Family Channel. One of the programs I had to write about was a special called the World Of Magic that was filmed at the Hollywood Palladium. I went to the show, and saw a lot of poofy sleeves, tired doves and startled looking rabbits.

But towards the end, there was a magician that had a grotesque looking mask on his face. He removed it, and underneath was another mask. And another one. And another one. He was pulling them off one after the other at an insane speed. He must've had fifty masks on.

I turned to the girl sitting next to me and said, "I'm going to go out on a limb and say he had a pretty screwed up childhood." She said, "If you think that's messed up, you ought to see the vents." By vents she meant ventriloquists. Come to find out she was Erica Larsen, daughter of the founder of the Magic Castle. We talked for a bit, and she told me about all the vents that performed at the Castle.

I was hooked. I decided then and there I was going to make a documentary showing the bizarre world of ventriloquists.

I met Erica at the Castle for lunch and told her the idea. She liked it a lot, and said she'd be happy to connect me with some vents. I also wound up going to the International Ventriloquist Convention in Las Vegas, where I shot a lot of video and interviewed many of the participants.

One of the things I remember most is the woman who'd only talk or answer question through her dummy.

It's a little surprising I could even look at a ventriloquist dummy after a prank my roommate Ned pulled on me years ago.

Ned owned a Jerry Mahoney dummy he knew creeped me out. He also knew I got up in the night to go to the kitchen. So he put the dummy on the kitchen counter right next to the frig. That night, about two in the morning, I went to the frig. I believe there's still a hole in the ceiling from when I saw the dummy sitting there.

And of course, I still get a chill thinking about the Twilight Zone episode pictured above, where a ventriloquist dummy is alive, eventually changing places with his owner - Cliff Robertson.

Anyway, add my documentary on ventriloquists to the list - along with accordion lessons, several screenplays, helicopter flying lessons and marathon training - of things I've started and never finished.

But the idea haunts me, and I imagine eventually I'll come back to it. After all the time and thought I've given it over the years, I'd be a dummy not to.

Springsteen & I. Almost.

I swear to God, sometimes I don't need to have anyone else working against me. I can do a fine job of it myself.

Ridley Scott made a documentary about this up and coming singer named Bruce Springsteen. You may have noticed I've mentioned him a time or two on here. Anyway, it's called Springsteen & I, and it's a series of concert footage (already worth the price of admission) and video from fans talking about what Bruce means to them.

It should come as no surprise I knew about the filming and call for videos long before the general public. I have my ways. When the website went up and the call went out, I was one of the first people there.

Bruce stories? I'm lousy with 'em.

Unfortunately, one of the first things I read on the site, word for word, was the release I'd have to sign in order to submit my video to Ridley Scott's production company. And things like using my likeness in any media, existing now or in the future, in perpetuity just didn't sit well with me.

Fast forward. The documentary had a brief theatrical run, and is now about to premiere on Showtime. I just saw this trailer for it on Showtime, and the only thought I had is one that, sadly, is not unfamiliar to me.

What the hell was I thinking?

It reminds me of the time my wife-to-be and I were fighting in the middle of Bullock's in Westwood about the pattern on our wedding china. I was dug in, and I was not going to budge. Right up until I had a revelation: I didn't care what the pattern was. It was important to my bride, but I wasn't quite sure just why or what I ground I was trying to take. So I just let it go.

That's what I thought when I saw the trailer - I should have just let all my concerns about the release go. I deeply regret not having just signed it and submitting a video of myself (the camera loves me) telling one of my many, many Bruce stories.

This is a lesson I seem to have to keep learning over and over again. The one about getting over myself, and being a little less stressed out about the things that really don't matter in the long run. Maybe one of these times it'll sink in.

So when it airs, and all my friends who know how I feel about Bruce ask if I submitted a video, or why I wasn't in it, I'll have the self-inflicted pleasure of looking them right in the eye and telling them the truth.

Because I'm an idiot, that's why.