Welcome to the Deep Dive, the place where we
really try to cut through all the noise, you
know, the dense research, and just distill a
whole stack of sources down into the essential,
fascinating insights you need. We want you to
understand some of the world's most compelling
figures. And today, yeah, we're diving deep into
Bruce Wagner. He's a really genuinely unique...
american novelist and screenwriter he uses this
like glittering sometimes apocalyptic often kind
of absurd lens of hollywood right to explore
these incredibly deep spiritual and well existential
themes it's quite a mix he provides a crucial
shortcut honestly it's like instead of slogging
through endless analyses of hollywood culture
wagner just takes you straight to the contradiction
right in its heart doesn't he he really does
we've been tracing his path and it's remarkable
I mean, from being a high school dropout and
literally a chauffeur in Beverly Hills. Yeah.
Driving the actual cars. Exactly. All the way
to becoming this critically acclaimed author,
collaborating with cinematic heavyweights, people
like David Cronenberg, Oliver Stone. It's quite
the journey. And our mission today, really. is
to uncover those key dualities that define his
career. Because he isn't just, you know, a writer
about Hollywood. He's more like an observer of
the world's spiritual sickness, if you will,
diagnosed through the very specific cultural
disease that is L .A. celebrity culture. That's
a good way to put it. As the sources really emphasize,
his work is defined by this apocalyptic yet ultimately
spiritual view of humanity as seen through the
lens of Hollywood. And that tension, right, the
super high gloss surface versus the, let's say,
existential rot underneath. That's the intellectual
engine. It drives pretty much everything he creates.
And it's that insider outsider status, I think,
that makes him so relevant, so potent. He doesn't
just critique the wealthy from afar. He actually
lived among them, you know, servicing them, driving
them around, witnessing their private vulnerabilities
and their public absurdities like firsthand.
Absolutely. He had a front row seat. So let's
start digging into that contradiction right at
the beginning. Bruce Allen Wagner, born in Madison,
Wisconsin, 1954. So not a native Angeleno, which
is interesting. Yeah, that initial geographic
distance, even though it was brief, maybe it
helped shape those later observational skills.
Gave him a bit of perspective before he was immersed.
Could be. The family moved around quite a bit,
actually. First to San Francisco when he was
about four, and then like four years later, they
landed permanently in Los Angeles. OK, so moving
right into the core of the spectacle at age eight,
that kind of sets the backdrop for everything
else that follows, you'd think. Definitely. And
the family life itself, it sort of mirrors the
shifting ambitions of L .A. in that mid -century
period. His father, Morton Wagner, he was a media
guy, started in radio, then moved into TV. He
actually produced The Les Crane Show. Oh, wow.
The Les Crane Show. That was a pretty significant
cultural moment in the 60s, wasn't it? Kind of
edgy for its time. Very much so. But then eventually
his dad pivoted and became a stockbroker. So
you see that shift, right, from the creative
spectacle to the more solid world of finance.
That's a very L .A. trajectory in itself almost.
Meanwhile, his mother, Bernice Milletz. She created
her own kind of stability after his parents divorced.
Worked for, what, 40 years at Saks Fifth Avenue?
40 years, yeah, at Saks. So you've got these
twin pillars of Beverly Hills culture right there
in his background. You know, fleeting nature
of media fame on one side and the sort of enduring
nature of high end commerce on the other. Those
must have been his first lessons, really, in
how that whole ecosystem of wealth and illusion
operates, seeing it from both angles. But the
real education arguably came when he kind of
rejected the traditional path. He went to Beverly
Vista Elementary, then Beverly Hills High School,
you know, schools of the elite. Right. Right
in the heart of it. But he dropped out junior
year. And this is the pivotal moment, I think.
He basically traded that academic conformity
for, well, real raw material experience. And
that real world experience, it was just so intensely
varied. It gave him this immediate insight into
the whole spectrum of human desperation, human
privilege. He worked in bookstores, okay, that
connects him to the literary world. Sure, the
bookish side. But then he also drove an ambulance.
For Schaefer Ambulance Service, that's a world
away from Sachs and Stockbrokers. Yeah, let's
pause there for a second. Driving an ambulance,
I mean, that's an intensely visceral front line
kind of job, isn't it? Totally. You're dealing
with sudden death, profound injury, trauma. You're
seeing humanity at its absolute most vulnerable,
its most raw. And then to transition from that
to driving a black car for the elite at the Beverly
Hills Hotel. That contrast is just. It's everything,
isn't it? As a chauffeur, suddenly you're dealing
with, well... Sometimes profound triviality,
right? Exactly. Ferrying people to dinners, meetings,
fancy parties. Yeah. Just watching their self
-important dramas unfold in the rearview mirror.
But in both roles, think about it. The ambulance
driver and the chauffeur, he was privy to these
highly confidential, often intensely emotional
moments in people's lives. Yeah. He was like
the invisible servant, wasn't he? Of both life
and death, you could say. A profound crisis on
one hand and privileged boredom on the other.
That's really the origin of his narrative voice,
you feel. This ground level perspective gave
him that aha moment, that insight that very few
writers ever really get. He wasn't just relying
on gossip columns or media reports. No, he was
witnessing it. The casual cruelty, maybe the
drug use, the backroom deals, the sheer. desperation
that can define the privileged class when they
think no one's watching or when they think the
person watching doesn't matter. He literally
got paid to watch the mechanisms of power and
anxiety up close. He wasn't writing about Hollywood
from the outside looking in. He was writing from
the passenger seat, wasn't he? Right in the center
of the action. Knowing the secret geography of
the city, you know, the hidden drives, the discrete
entrances, all that stuff. OK, so he's armed
with this immense sort of catalog of real life
material. He starts writing in his 20s. But Hollywood
being Hollywood, well, it didn't exactly roll
out the red carpet immediately for his unique
insights. No surprise there, maybe. His first
actual attempt at a screenplay, Young Lust, back
in 1984. It got produced by the legendary Robert
Stigwood. Yeah, Stigwood, Saturday Night Fever,
Grease. Big name. Huge. But, tellingly, the film
was never released. just shelved a near miss
that really speaks volumes about the capricious
nature of the industry he was already starting
to critique that must have been a blow and that
disappointment that feeling of having created
something that maybe only insiders saw or nobody
saw it led him to a really critical pivot He
apparently channeled that frustration into creating
a modern take on F. Scott Fitzgerald's Pat Hobby
short stories. Oh, interesting. The Pat Hobby
connection. Remind us, Hobby is the sort of washed
up alcoholic screenwriter, right? Always struggling,
never quite catching a break in the old studio
system. That's him. Exactly. The personification
of Hollywood failure, pretty much. And by choosing
that archetype, Wagner was kind of signaling,
I think, that his work wasn't just going to be
about. you know, glamorous celebrity. It was
more about the existential struggle, the crushing
banality sometimes of just striving within that
system. Right. The desperation behind the facade.
Yeah. And this archetype, combined with his own
history as chauffeur days, it all coalesced into
his breakthrough literary work, Force Majeure,
The Bud Wiggins Stories. Published in 1991. And
this book gave us Bud Wiggins, the chauffeur
protagonist, the ultimate invisible witness.
And it's crucial to remember how grassroots this
success was initially, right? He didn't have
a big publisher at first. No, not at all. He
actually self -published it initially with Caldecott
Chubb. They printed just a thousand copies. Wow,
a thousand. Yeah, very small run. But the word
spread like wildfire, especially within the industry.
He was, you know, skewering. And those copies
just flew off the shelves at BookSoup. Book soup,
yeah. The literary heart of West Hollywood. That
immediate sellout, it kind of showed that the
industry recognized itself in the mirror he was
holding up, didn't it? Even if it was uncomfortable.
Oh, absolutely. And the recognition was instant
and it was high level. Oliver Stone, I mean,
a titan known for his visceral, often confrontational
cinema, he optioned the book immediately, wanted
to direct it. Oliver Stone, again, another huge
Hollywood promise, but like young lust. It ultimately
fell through, never came to fruition as a stone
film, which, again, kind of underscores Wagner's
recurring themes of fleeting success, promises
unfulfilled in that world. But the material itself,
the core story, was clearly enduring. Bud Wiggins,
that chauffeur observer character, he became
Wagner's most important creation, arguably. For
sure. And Wagner himself confirmed that the script
based on those stories, the one that really captured
the decadence and the spiritual hollowness of
L .A. in the early 90s that eventually evolved,
it became the script for the film Maps to the
Stars. The 2014 film with Cronenberg. Exactly.
So it took, what, over two decades for that initial
ground floor perspective, that chauffeur's view,
to finally hit the big screen in that form. That's
incredible persistence. And that initial literary
success with Forest Majeure, even though the
Stone movie didn't happen, it cemented his reputation,
didn't it? Led to a major publishing deal. Yeah,
with Random House. And his output then became
pretty prolific and critically validated, too.
I'm Losing You came out in 96. It wasn't just
another novel. It got named a New York Times
Notable Book of the Year. And what's that one
about, Bradley? It's a really terrifyingly precise
exploration of mortality, aging, and just the
desperate length Angelenos particularly go to
deny both of those things. Very L .A., very Wagner.
Sounds intense. And then a few years later. Yeah,
about five years later, The Chrysanthemum Palace
in 2005. That one was a Pien Faulkner finalist
in 2006. Big literary recognition. The Chrysanthemum
Palace. Even the title suggests maybe a move
toward more spiritual or historical themes, not
just contemporary satire. I think so, yeah. It
focuses more on a kind of doomed, maybe haunted
aristocracy within L .A. He wasn't just writing
about the here and now anymore. He was starting
to place Hollywood in this broader historical
and crucially moral context. And his satirical
eye was just so sharp, clearly, that he wasn't
confined just to novels. So he started becoming
a commentator too, right? Leveraging those insights.
Exactly. He started writing op -eds, essays for
really prestigious publications, you know, The
New Yorker, The New York Times, Vanity Fair,
even Art Forum. He sort of became the authoritative
voice, in a way, on that specific intersection
of wealth, misery, and maybe spiritual questing
in L .A. It really leads us back to that quote
you mentioned earlier from the novelist John
Pistelli. It really seems to encapsulate why
Wagner's work endures, Pistelli said. His work
exists in several different epochs simultaneously.
Bruce Wagner's time has never left, is sure to
arrive, and has come at last. It's such a great
quote. It's powerful, yeah. But what does that
really mean, do you think, in terms of his writing
style, his impact? Why does it feel like it's
always relevant? Well, I think it suggests that
while the surfaces of his work are incredibly
specific, you know, he'll mention the latest
plastic surgery fad or the most exclusive restaurant,
that kind of detail. Yeah, very contemporary
details. But the core themes beneath that surface
are absolutely timeless. We're talking envy,
mortality, abuse of power, the search for meaning
in a purely materialistic world. These are ancient
concerns. Right. He writes about contemporary
apocalypse, sure, but his concerns are essentially
mythological. or maybe spiritual, at their root,
and the way celebrity culture, especially in
L .A., just accelerates and magnifies those ancient
human flaws. Well, that ensures his work always
feels relevant, always feels urgent, pretty much
regardless of the year you read it. So his literary
success was clearly established, but it seems
like it was always intertwined with his screenwriting
aspirations, wasn't it? He never fully left that
world behind. No, never. And his path back into
the cinematic world, or maybe his continued presence
in it is surprisingly eclectic. It moves from
that really highbrow satire we've been talking
about all the way to, well, lowbrow horror almost.
Yeah, that's a jump. Seems like a perfect illustration
maybe of the practical compromises you sometimes
have to make in Hollywood. Could be. I mean,
how does the acclaimed novelist who writes these
searing critiques about the decaying soul of
Beverly Hills end up co -writing a sequel about,
you know, a dream demon with knives for fingers?
Right. How did that happen? The Nightmare on
Elm Street connection. It apparently all came
down to a cold read. Wes Craven, you know, the
master of horror. Legend. He read one of Wagner's
unproduced scripts, a high concept thing called
They Sleep by Night. And Craven was apparently
really impressed by Wagner's grasp of psychological
tension his way with atmosphere. Okay, so Craven
saw something beyond just satire. Exactly. And
then Craven recruited Wagner to co -write A Nightmare
on Elm Street 3. Dream Warriors. That was 1987.
And that collaboration itself is actually pretty
historically significant when you look at who
was involved. It really is. Wagner shares the
story by credit with Wes Craven himself. plus
Chuck Russell, who later directed the Mass and
the Blob remake, and Frank Darabont. Frank Darabont,
Shawshank Redemption, The Green Mile, later The
Walking Dead showrunner. That's an incredible
assembly of talent on a horror sequel. It's wild,
isn't it? A literary satirist, the master of
horror, a future blockbuster director, and a
future prestige TV creator. Talk about an unlikely
training ground. But if you actually look closely
at Dream Warriors, the third Elm Street film,
it's very focused on the psychological landscape
of the kids. on institutional failure, the hospital
setting, the trauma of youth, themes that are
not actually entirely alien to Wagner's other
work if you think about it. That's a good point.
So he kind of cut his teeth, maybe learned some
mechanics in the commercial trenches of the horror
genre. Pacing, suspense, that sort of thing.
Probably. But he pretty quickly returned to his
own unique vision with that cult miniseries,
Wild Palms. Ah, yes. Wild Palms, 1993. That felt
pure Wagner, didn't it? Totally. He created it,
co -executive produced it for ABC based on a
comic strip he'd actually written for Details
magazine. Right. I remember that comic. And it
was just this surreal, almost proto -cyberpunk
vision of a future Los Angeles, saturated with
virtual reality. weird new religions, media fascism.
It was a perfect expression, really, of his anxieties
about spiritual collapse combined with technological
takeover. Very prescient in some ways. And the
fact that he co -executed produced that with
Oliver Stone again. Yes, Stone again. It just
underscores his ability to attract these high
caliber, risk -taking collaborators, people who
maybe shared his slightly paranoid, definitely
apocalyptic view of American power and culture.
He clearly resonated with... certain types of
filmmakers. And he showed remarkable range, too,
extending into comedy. He was an executive producer
and co -writer with Tracy Ullman for her show,
Tracy Ullman's State of the Union. Oh, I love
that show. From 2008 to 2010, right? That's the
one. And that allowed him to use these short,
sharp comedic sketches to comment on contemporary
politics, celebrity life, basically applying
that satirical scalpel he has, but in a faster,
lighter format. Very versatile. But the true
full circle moment, I think, has to be the film
adaptation of his original chauffeur stories,
Maps to the Stars, 2014. Absolutely. And this
was a script that David Cronenberg, the master
of body horror, psychological decay, that kind
of unsettling cinema, had apparently been determined
to make for nearly a decade. A decade. Why so
long? Was it just too dark for studios? Apparently,
yeah. The script is just so relentlessly dark,
so critical of Hollywood's, like, self -cannibalization,
its incestuous nature. It was deemed pretty much
unmakeable for years. But Cronenberg, you know,
he recognized a kindred spirit in Wagner, I think.
Someone else who saw the physical and moral decay
inherent in obsessive ambition, particularly
in that L .A. context. A perfect pairing in hindsight.
And when the film finally premiered, it was a
critical triumph, wasn't it? Especially for Julianne
Moore. Oh, totally. Julianne Moore gave this
incredible, unhinged performance as Havana Segrand,
the fading, deeply unstable actress. And she
won Best Actress at the Cannes Film Festival
for it in 2014. Major award. And here's the kicker.
The delightful, absurd irony that Wagner himself
must just appreciate. Go on. Wagner was the person
who actually accepted the award on Julianne Moore's
behalf at Cannes. She couldn't be there. No way.
Seriously. Yeah. So the high school dropout who
used to drive the black cars around Beverly Hills
was standing on arguably the most prestigious
stage in the cinematic world, accepting an award
for a film that absolutely skewers the very industry
he's now being celebrated by. That is that's
peak Wagner, isn't it? He became the ultimate
insider celebrating his own ultimate critique.
Amazing. And the layers keep going. If you look
really closely at the film, the irony deepens
even more. Wagner has an uncredited acting cameo
as Benji's chauffeur. Benji's the horrible child
star character. Stop it. He plays a chauffeur
in the movie based on his chauffeur stories.
He literally returned to the role. that provided
him with all the initial insights, like closing
the loop perfectly on his professional journey.
The observer became the material, and then the
observer played the observer in the final product.
It's wild. It's a perfect metaphor for his whole
career, really. He operates at the highest levels,
gets the awards, the recognition, but he always
seems to retain that critical, ground -level,
maybe chauffeur's perspective. Yeah. And we shouldn't
forget his own directing efforts, too. He adapted
his own novels like I'm Losing You in 98 and
Women in Film in 2001. Right. Trying to maintain
control over the vision. He seems like an artist
who's just dedicated to translating his singular,
often difficult vision, regardless of the medium
or, you know, the commercial challenges involved.
So with that incredible trajectory, you know,
Khan Award, collaborations with Konenberg and
Stone, literary acclaim. You might think Wagner
had finally achieved this sort of comfortable
autonomy within the industry, right? You'd think
so. But his dedication to, let's call it, uncompromising
truth, or his version of it, eventually put him
on this direct collision course with a much newer
kind of gatekeeper. Not just Hollywood money,
but the contemporary culture of publishing anxiety,
sensitivity concerns. Right. This is a really
crucial pivot in his career, isn't it? Moving
from satirizing Hollywood's greed and vanity
to grappling with these newer cultural constraints
on. artistic language itself absolutely and this
whole conflict centers on his 2020 novel the
marvel universe origin stories okay so what happened
there he had a book deal right yeah he signed
a deal for this book with counterpoint press
back in 2019 he delivered the manuscript everything
seemed fine initially but then the relationship
apparently soured pretty quickly the editor and
publisher deemed specific language within the
novel to be Problematic. Problematic. That word
carries a lot of weight these days. What was
the specific issue? Well... We have to analyze
the specific objection because it's really instructive
about the climate, I think. The issue wasn't
like a general condemnation of the whole works
themes or anything. It focused very specifically
on the word fat. The word fat. Yeah. Apparently
there is a character in the book, a 500 pound
woman who playfully self identifies using that
word. She calls herself the fat Joan. And Wagner
intended this as an homage, apparently, to the
popular social media personality, the fat Jew.
OK, so. It's character voice, self -description,
possibly satirical or provocative. Exactly. But
the publisher reportedly drew a really hard line.
They asserted that, quote, not even a character
can call herself that. Wow. That's a significant
stance. It effectively argues that certain words
or phrases, regardless of the context, regardless
of the character's intention, regardless of any
satirical purpose, are just completely off limits
in contemporary fiction now. That seems to be
the implication, yeah. And the writer Sam Wasson,
he wrote about this conflict in an Airmail article
called Bruce Wagner's Woke Universe. And Wasson
noted speculation that the editor might have
been cautioned by sensitivity readers. Ah, sensitivity
readers. Those consultants brought into vet manuscripts
for potential offense or controversy before publication.
Right. Now, whether they were officially involved
or it was just the publisher's internal policy
reflecting that trend, the outcome was the same.
This raises such fundamental questions for any
artist, especially a satirist, doesn't it? If
a character can't even use self -deprecating
or playful language about themselves, language
that's meant to be provocative. Well, a satire,
which so often relies on exaggeration and even
offense to reveal societal truths, it becomes
almost impossible, right? It really hamstrings
it. And Wagner's response was immediate and it
was profound. He really emphasized the stakes
involved for him. He stated publicly, quote,
Thrown into a furnace. That's not hyperbole for
him, is it? It sounds like a core statement of
his artistic philosophy. I think it is. Satire
demands the freedom to let characters speak in
messy, inappropriate, sometimes even self -destructive
ways. That's how it holds a mirror up to society's
own flaws. If the publisher feels they have to
clean up the mirror first, then the reflection
becomes useless, doesn't it? Completely. So rather
than compromise his artistic vision, you know,
change the character's voice or spend potentially
years trying to find another traditional publisher
willing to take on what was now perceived as
a risky book, Wagner made this really radical,
highly unconventional choice. He basically rejected
the entire commercial model that he'd been navigating
and critiquing his whole life. What did he do?
He chose the path of, well, ultimate artistic
integrity over any potential financial gain.
On October 13th, 2020, he released the complete
novel, The Marvel Universe, origin stories for
free into the public domain on his own website,
brucewagner .la. Wow. Just gave it away. For
a professional novelist whose work is literally
his livelihood, that's a massive statement. It's
like an act of cultural protest against editorial
constraint. It really is. And think about the
implications for you, the listener, or for any
creator. This is a rejection of that whole Hollywood
contract culture, the publishing gatekeepers,
everything he spent his life writing about. He
essentially said, look, if you won't let me publish
the truth as I see it with the language necessary
for it, then I'll just give the truth away. Incredible.
And what happened after he released it? for free.
Did people just download it? Well, yeah, people
could download it freely. But the aftermath highlights
the sort of strange realities of modern publishing
and distribution, too. Even though he gave the
book away, it very quickly became available as
a print on demand title through Amazon. Ah, OK.
So people could buy a physical copy if they wanted.
Did he get royalties from that? No. Sticking
absolutely to his choice, Wagner receives zero
profit from those Amazon on demand sales. He
really committed to the principle then? Fully.
He did allow a limited signed edition to be printed
by a new small publisher called Felix Farmer
Press. But again, by his own explicit choice,
he receives no monetary gain from that limited
run either. He just wanted the integrity of the
material preserved, outside of what he saw as
the commercial pressure cooker that wanted to
dilute it. It's just a remarkable demonstration
of his dedication to his voice, his specific
language above absolutely everything else. Above
profit, above platform, above convenience. Yeah.
This decision then to basically sacrifice profit
for principle. It leads us directly to the other
major theme, often quieter, but always present
in Bruce Wagner's life and work. The spiritual
seeker. Exactly. This is the ultimate duality
we talked about at the start, isn't it? The man
who writes so savagely about the profane artifice
of Hollywood is also simultaneously deeply dedicated
to a kind of transcendent spiritual path. When
you look at his work through that lens, suddenly
the apocalyptic themes, the constant focus on
death, karma, rebirth maybe, it all makes much
more sense, doesn't it? It's not just satire.
There's a spiritual framework there. Absolutely.
And this path, it seems to have begun formally
or at least taken a very significant turn back
in 1994. What happened in 94? That was the year
Wagner interviewed the famous and controversial
shaman and author Carlos Castaneda. He did the
interview for Details magazine. Ah, Castaneda.
Yeah. Huge figure in the counterculture and New
Age movement. The teachings of Don Juan. Right.
And that encounter, it clearly wasn't just a
journalistic assignment for Wagner. It proved
absolutely pivotal. It led to Wagner becoming
deeply integrated into Castaneda's inner circle.
Really? Inside Castaneda's group? And did he
join under his own famous name? No, interestingly,
he adopted an assumed name, Lorenzo Drake. Lorenzo
Drake. Okay, there's a crucial psychological
parallel again, isn't there? Yeah. Just like
his life as a chauffeur. Exactly. It's another
role where he maintains this close proximity
to power, to esoteric knowledge maybe, but under
an invisible assumed identity. He remains the
silent observer, even within the inner sanctum.
Fascinating. And he became deeply involved, you
said? Yeah, very involved with the teachings
and the organization surrounding Castaneda. He
even directed the first instructional videos
on tensegrity for Clear Green. Clear Green. That's
the organization dedicated to Castaneda's specific
system, right? That's right. Tensegrity is Castaneda's
system of movements and practices. And Ragner
apparently has maintained close ties to that
group, even following Castaneda's death in 1998.
We should probably pause and just briefly explain
tensegrity for those who don't know. It's a system
of specific movements, postures. What's the intended
purpose? Well, as Castaneda developed and taught
it, it's intended to promote well -being, shift
consciousness, maybe redistribute energy in the
body. It's a kind of physical and spiritual discipline
combined. Okay, so how does that kind of discipline,
tensegrity, connect back to the Hollywood environment
that Wagner writes about? so relentlessly they
seem like polar opposites well think about it
tensegrity is all about cultivating energy presence
awareness clearing the sort of spiritual fog
perhaps and hollywood at least as wagner portrays
it is the absolute epitome of spiritual exhaustion
isn't it it's all about artificiality ego illusion
right so tensegrity could be seen as the ultimate
practical antidote to the world he critiques
his characters are constantly seeking these artificial
fixes cosmetic surgery drugs, fame, validation,
Wagner himself, through this practice, seems
to be seeking a real rigorous way out of the
spiritual trap that he spends all his books detailing.
That makes a lot of sense. It's his personal
counter -narrative. And his literary career eventually
started to cross over overtly into the spiritual
world, too. Yeah, it did. His novel Memorial,
which came out around 2006, it was actually positively
reviewed by a Buddhist monk. In Tricycle magazine.
Oh, Tricycle, the Buddhist review. That's a major
publication in contemporary Buddhism. Exactly.
And that favorable review led to an invitation
for Wagner to contribute an autobiographical
essay for Tricycle. And did he? He did. The essay
was called The Art of Reality. And in it, he
detailed his experiences with Castaneda, providing
this really intimate look into his own spiritual
life and search. And he reflects specifically
on the simple but not easy lessons of his teacher,
Castaneda. Simple but not easy. Easy, that phrase.
It really encapsulates the central tension of
his entire body of work, doesn't it? It really
does. It's simple, perhaps, to understand intellectually
that Hollywood is morally corrupt or spiritually
bankrupt, but actually escaping its gravitational
pull, spiritually, professionally, personally,
that's profoundly difficult. Not easy at all.
Precisely. And just for, you know, contextual
completeness, we should probably mention that
this intensely productive, spiritually questing
life also included some high profile personal
relationships along the way. Right. His marriages.
He was married to the actress Rebecca De Mornay
for a time. Yeah. From 1986 to 1990, early in
his burgeoning career. And then later, he was
married to Laura Peterson from 2009 to 2017.
Okay. And currently? He's currently partnered
with the actress Jamie Rose. So, you know, these
relationships took place while he was deeply
entrenched in the very industry he was simultaneously
observing, satirizing, and maybe trying to spiritually
transcend. More duality. Always the duality.
And despite all the conflicts, the censorship
battles, the spiritual questing, the radical
professional choices, his literary... productivity
hasn't flagged at all, has it? He seems incredibly
sustained and focused as a cultural observer.
Remarkably so. His output continues right into
the current decade. In 2022, he released Orar,
American Master, the oral biography of Roger
Orr. It's a continuation of his satirical style,
examining the figure of a powerful, maybe monstrous
literary figure through an oral history format.
Sounds very Wagner. And he has upcoming work,
too. Yeah. Two significant upcoming works mentioned
in the sources. One is The Met Gala and Tales
of Saints and Seekers. Two novellas expected
in 2024. I mean, that title alone. Perfectly
summarizes the duality again. The Met Gala and
Saints and Seekers. Exactly. And then another
novel simply titled Amputation is apparently
scheduled for 2025. So he's constantly exploring
that space. So when you look back at it all,
Bruce Wagner's career is really this incredible
testament to the power of the observer, isn't
it? Yeah. He started as the ultimate outsider
insider, the Beverly Hills High School dropout
who literally drove the elite around town. Yeah,
giving him this completely unparalleled ground
level education in the mechanics of modern wealth,
vanity, desperation, all of it. And he weaponized
that perspective, didn't he? He evolved into
the ultimate insider who then ruthlessly, brilliantly
satirizes the very industry he works within.
But crucially, he always imbues that critique
with this profound spiritual yearning. You feel
it underneath. the satire, drawn from figures
like Carlos Castaneda, maybe the tenets of Buddhism,
he just embodies that tension. The tension between
the profane, glittering, often ugly surface of
modern Los Angeles and the transcendent search
for some kind of enduring meaning. And understanding
Wagner's unique perspective, this Hollywood spiritual
observer, as you call him, it really offers you,
the listener, a far richer, much more nuanced
view of celebrity culture. than you get from
typical tabloid fare or superficial commentary.
Definitely. He's not just reporting on the chaos
or mocking the excess. He seems to be suggesting
maybe that the material decay and the almost
apocalyptic nature of modern fame, maybe that's
actually a necessary catalyst, something that
pushes people or could push people toward deeper,
more difficult spiritual truths. That's a fascinating
idea, that the darkness is part of the path.
Perhaps. And ultimately, his decision regarding
the Marvel Universe, origin stories, that whole
censorship fight, it provides such a power...
powerful lesson about integrity, about artistic
freedom. Yeah, choosing to release his work for
free into the public domain rather than compromise
the specific language he believed was essential
to his satirical art. Specifically, language
used by a character about herself. A character's
voice. So we really want to leave you with this
final, maybe provocative thought to mull over.
What is the ultimate cost of artistic freedom
in our contemporary world? When an artist like
Wagner decides that the integrity of a single
word used specifically to establish a fictional
character's voice and perspective is actually
worth more than the entire potential profit derived
from that book. What does that really tell us
about the value we place on truth or artistic
truth versus the constraints of the market or
maybe the fear of offense? It's a huge question.
And it resonates far beyond just the borders
of Beverly Hills or the publishing world, doesn't
it? It touches on free speech, art, commerce,
sensitivity, everything. A really difficult question,
as you say. But one we are maybe fortunate that
Wagner was willing to pose so dramatically, so
publicly with his actions. Indeed, he forced
the issue. Well, that's the deep dive for today.
We really hope you enjoyed exploring the complex,
contradictory, and utterly fascinating universe
of Bruce Wagner.