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Here Comes the Hanks.


We were sitting at a traffic light when it happened.

My husband and I were in San Diego for the weekend, enjoying a belated anniversary dinner while my in-laws had generously volunteered to babysit our son. We were in the car, headed for dinner at a restaurant that we'd been meaning to try for months, and I was futzing around on my phone (as I do), when he spoke up out of the blue.

"I think we should do a year of Hanks."

"What?"

"Neither of us has seen all of Tom Hanks' movies, and I know you're a huge fan, so I think we should watch everything he's been in over a year or so."

It took me a minute to process this suggestion that had come from seemingly nowhere. It's an established fact among those who know me well that I love Tom Hanks. It's not a movie star crush (I'm looking at you, Chris Pine) or a simple appreciation for the craft (Morgan Freeman, you inspire me). In a previous life, I was convinced, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that I was going to be an actor. I dreamed of it from the time I was old enough to toddle. I begged my mother to let me go to casting calls and auditions. I did community theatre. I went to college and majored, much against my parents' sound advice, in theatre. This was my life, this was my vocation, what I was meant to do, I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt.

We all need a hero. To illustrate this point, I actually Googled "heroes of celebrities" and one of the first articles that came up was Tom Hanks and Richard Phillips, the eponymous container ship captain Hanks portrayed in the film "Captain Phillips." When I was in high school, my senior year history teacher assigned us a task called "The PWR (People We Respect) Project." We were to write three notable people, whether they were actors, musicians, athletes, business owners, scientists, etc., that we admired, and ask who they wished they had studied in history class in high school and why. Of the replies (if any) we received, we'd research the person our chosen recipients noted and write a report on them. I couldn't tell you who my other two chosen celebrities were, but my first choice, without question, was Tom Hanks. 

I honestly don't know at what point I decided that Tom Hanks was my idol. I don't think it was ever a conscious choice, but more of a gradual realization. As an actor, he was incredibly versatile - his breakout role was in the gender-bending comedy Bosom Buddies, and over the next several years he established himself as a gifted comedian. It wasn't long, however, before he attacked dramatic roles as well, and mastered them with equal aplomb. He was the most versatile person I'd ever seen, dancing back and forth between funny and poignant with ease, mastering human emotion like no one else could. He'd scooped up nods from MTV, The New York Film Critics Circle, The Academy of Television Arts and Sciences, AMPAS (you know, those folks who hand out the Oscars), and perhaps most close to my heart, Harvard University, who made him Hasty Pudding Man of the Year in 1995. It's safe to say that I was a fan. 

Imagine my utter shock and delight when, a few weeks after the project commenced, I received a letter from none other than Tom Hanks. He said that he'd wished he'd studied more about Jacques Cousteau. So for the following couple of weeks. I learned everything I could about the famed explorer, and turned in an extensive report accordingly. 

Neither of the two other celebrities I'd written (one of whom I think was Oprah Winfrey, for some reason) replied. But Tom Hanks did.

Tom Hanks has been married to the same woman for 29 years (his first marriage lasted a respectable 9). He keeps himself completely absent from tabloids and scandal. He collects typewriters. He helps Girl Scouts sell cookies. He's the rare combination of a man who is both remarkably talented and an incredibly down to Earth all-around good guy. I admire the hell out of him.

And yet, I haven't actually seen his full body of work. So when my husband suggested that we undertake this project, it seemed such a forgone conclusion. I was a little ashamed that I hadn't thought of it before.

Tom Hanks is an American icon, and his work, ALL OF IT, dammit, deserves to be celebrated from start to finish. Even the stuff he'd probably rather forget.

As such, we're going to make it our mission in the coming year to watch every single film (TV movies included) that Hanx (as he refers to himself in social media posts) has ever made. For the sake of this particular undertaking, we're going to focus specifically on film rather than television. We've already started researching where we can obtain each film for rental or purchase, beginning with 1980's He Knows You're Alone. As Hanx's 61st birthday occurs in a scant matter of weeks, we've decided to commence this voyage on that day, July 9th, in his honor. I'm going catalogue our journey as we go, chronicling the hits (our first kiss occurred during a viewing of The Terminal, true story) and misses (I'll be 100% completely honest, I did not enjoy Cloud Atlas the first time I saw it). While I've a bit of a penchant for hyperbole, I don't hesitate to say that it's something of a pilgrimage for me. I'm going to give it my all, I'm going to write about it, and I'm going to tell Tom Hanks all about it. Whether or not he responds this time is entirely his own decision, and I won't judge him if he doesn't. It's been entirely too long since I've dedicated myself to something like this. And I'm inviting you guys to join me.

Stay tuned, friends. This is going to be fun. 

P.S.
If you happen to know Tom Hanks, or follow him on Twitter, please tell him. Even if he doesn't respond, I'd really, really like for him to know.

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