If my life were an inspirational movie, it might have the subtitle "Anyone can rap." Indeed, despite my benign appearance, I can rap. And if you don't believe me, come to Tri-Kap this Friday for a demonstration of my rapping prowess.
Self-promotion aside, Joaquin Phoenix's recent antics call into question my "if I can do it, anyone can" philosophy. Ever since he announced his retirement from acting and ensuing decision to embark on a hip-hop career late last year, even casual followers of celebrity gossip have been treated to performances of unparalleled wretchedness.
In the annals of musical performance, there have been releases from plenty of artists who should have never set foot in the studio. This includes any output of the Jingle Cats Music label, William Shatner's entire opus and any work associated with the Lohan name.
Yet somehow, Joaquin Phoenix manages to beat out this motley crew as the worst musician I've ever encountered.
The Toronto Star opined on Feb. 27 that Phoenix should "prepare to be ridiculed."
Regarding a performance where Phoenix fell off-stage, the New York Daily News described Phoenix as "totally biting it" in an article published on Jan. 18.
Perhaps it was his (I hope) drunken, strung-out incoherencies mumbled in front of a backdrop of a nude woman that made the aforementioned performance particularly awful.
Or maybe it was the way he compellingly described his craft during an interview with David Letterman that has made him so laughable (articulation has never had a more prominent moment).
Whatever the cause, his embryonic so-called career seems utterly absurd -- not absurd in a meaningful, Samuel Beckett way, but in a "why would the ungainly awkward girl with balance issues that suggest undiagnosed vertigo go onto MTV's 'Made' and try to become a hip-hop dancer" way.
Thankfully, there are hints that there may be a rational explanation for this travesty: the tried and true publicity stunt. For one, Phoenix's brother-in-law Casey Affleck has been a fixture at all of Phoenix's hip-hop horrors, filming Phoenix's budding career. It would not be a stretch to combine this documentary footage and the healthy levels of ridicule Phoenix has received to create a mockumentary.
Yet, even if all this is an elaborate ruse, how are we to digest Phoenix's music? It seems too bad to even be a joke. His performances reflect poorly on him: they are devoid of value and are depressingly talentless.
Some say that there is no such thing as bad publicity. In this case, however, Phoenix's foolhardy quest for either hip-hop stardom or quick headlines will ultimately prove short-sighted. Long after his day in the sun has passed and a new celebrity is publicly humiliating him or herself, people will be able to continue watching Phoenix fall offstage again and again on YouTube.
It might be hard for Phoenix to pick himself up after so much bruising.