Ain't No Trip to Cleveland

Owen Wilson's breakdown has been tabloid-fodder for weeks now, but it never felt like a grocery-aisle story to me. First, there are the details of the actual incident and Wilson's subsequent hospitalization, which remain -- appropriately -- guarded. From what I've gathered, his family and friends rushed to his side, and after a period of staying indoors and healing, Wilson has started to venture out. These few details are so much more mundane than tales of it-girl boozing/car-crashing/rehabbing cycles, and somehow more affecting, to me anyway. But that may be because Owen Wilson has been such a fixture in my life. I'll never forget seeing his first film, Bottle Rocket. The movie was passed around like a secret, and his character, Dignan, got to jaded college-me and cajoled his way into my psyche, reminding me that dreaming big is key to living. Around that same time a good friend of mine developed a massive celebrity crush on him, and Owen, as we know him, is someone with whom we've long been on a first-name basis without actually knowing. Since the days of Bottle Rocket, we've been with him throughout, in spite of "Butterscotch Stallion" allegations and it-couple dalliances... to us, he's still Dignan. It has long seemed the characters he plays are really all just Owen, with Dignan's pie-in-the-sky optimism tempered by Eli Cash's self-destructive impulses. All this is to say if you love Wilson's movies, particularly those he's made with Wes Anderson, John Seabrook's profile of these "Wonder Boys" for Men's Vogue is a must-read. Dig in, and root for Dignan.

Sarah Handel

Tags: Owen Wilson