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Bates Motel Recap, Episode 7: "The Man in Number 9"

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This week on Bates Motel: Dead deputies, dead dogs and dead dreams. Ah, idyllic White Pine Bay. Having fun! Wish you were here!

An Unexpected Outcome to the Blame Game

This week picks up pretty much where last week left off: with Deputy Shelby leaking vital bodily fluids all over the Bates’ steps. Sheriff Romero has just arrived on the rainy scene and carefully walks over and takes the gun from Dylan’s hand. You know, the one with which he shot Deputy Shelby through the eyeball. Romero rolls Shelby over and quickly discovers the gaping eye socket.

“We’d better talk,” he says.

Romero and the dysfunctional family move inside to the living room, where Norma comes clean about everything, from Summers' murder to Shelby's sex trade. She sits back and sniffs, apparently ready to lie in whatever bed she’s made. Romero lets it all sink in for a second.

“Here’s what the story’s gonna be,” he announces, and Norma narrows her eyes in confusion. To save face, Romero says they’re going to tell the town that he had suspected Shelby was a corrupt cop for a while, stemming from Summers’ mysterious death. He was just starting to close in when Shelby tried to move the girl from Summers’ boat, which led to the showdown at Bates Motel, wherein Romero killed Shelby. To hammer this point home, he picks up the murder weapon and smears his prints all over it. Dylan’s gunshot wound, Romero continues, was sustained when he “got in the way.”

Everyone seems quite pleased by this unexpected development—except for Dylan, who can’t believe his heroic role in this whole ordeal has been humiliatingly downgraded.

“That’s it? I risked my life to save all your asses and take that guy down, and that’s it? I got in the way of his showdown?”

“That’s it!” Norma says gleefully, then hugs Norman instead of the son who saved all of their lives.

In Which Everyone Avoids Someone

After she spent an eternity (okay, an episode) avoiding him, Bradley and Norman are finally making out again, this time in his spartan bedroom. Bradley is worried about Norma overhearing, but Norman does. Not. Care.

“She’s never gonna hear us. Trust me,” he promises.

Of course, Norma bursts in two seconds later. “What are you doing?” she asks, and Norman pulls his face out of a pillow, revealing that’s he’s all alone.

Norma, totally oblivious to the fact that her son was just making out with goose feathers, starts blathering about how she adores the sound of the birds chirping outside, then flits over to his armoire. Does it really surprise you that she still picks out Norman’s clothes? I guess he’s lucky that she’s not still making him wear “Mommy’s Little Snuggler” onesies.

They have seven days until the motel officially opens, we learn, although the reservation book is still glaringly empty. Norma asks her son to fix the lattice under the porch before he leaves for school. Norman gets dressed—and I do believe the shirt his mother picked out is layered underneath his sweater—then goes to make the repair. He pulls off a piece of the lattice to reveal a dirty little dog angrily defending its territory underneath the porch. Norman throws it the rest of his breakfast. “Come here,” he says softly, hammer clenched somewhat alarmingly in his hand. “Come here. I won’t hurt you.” The dog skitters away.

Inside, Norma is making Dylan breakfast to show her appreciation for him getting shot and killing a cop and all. “You know I’m still moving out, right?” he asks. Norma deflates like water wings after Labor Day.

“Even after everything I told you about your brother?” Dylan says yes—he isn’t sure how he can help with that situation, so the beach house is still happening. Norma starts angrily yanking the trash bag out of the garbage can, but it’s one of those models where you step on a lever to open the lid, and the trash bag always, always, always gets stuck in them. Dylan does know how to help with that, so he steps up to wrest the bag out of the container. “THANKS SO MUCH,” she hilariously yells at him.

Dylan takes the bag downstairs to the dumpster, where a man I’m pretty sure is Ed Begley, Jr. pulls up. Except it’s totally not Ed Begley, Jr. The actor’s name is Jere Burns and he’s on a bunch of critically-acclaimed shows, including Justified and Burn Notice. My apologies for the egregious error.

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“Can you tell me what happened to the Seafairer Motel?” he asks.

“New owners,” Dylan says. “It’s the Bates Motel now.”

Somewhat chagrined, not-Ed Begley, Jr. asks where Keith Summers is. Dylan informs the man of Summers’ untimely demise, and the mysterious man drives away.

At school, Norman can barely contain his excitement when he sees that Bradley has returned. “You’re back at school,” he states.

“Can’t hide behind death forever,” she says. As her friends usher her on—they did her book report on The Odyssey for her, by the way—Norman asks if he can see her later. Bradley sort of shrugs and spreads her arms, shaking her head apologetically.

The Man in Number 9

Suited up in her professional best, Norma is delivering brochures to businesses in hopes that they’ll help promote the motel. She'll do the same in return.

“We really don’t do that kind of thing so much,” says Liz Morgan, restaurant manager, not even trying to explain the full display of travel brochures visible to her left. “I’m selective about the businesses I promote in my restaurant,” Morgan continues, handing a brochure back to Norma. She goes on to say that the whole town knows everything that happened up at the motel. “People talk, and especially in a small town—it’s just kind of tainted the place." Norma has the gall to look surprised.

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She returns to the motel to check the reservations again, but there's still zip. Someone wants a room, however, because she’s getting ready to lock up when she sees a shadowy figure jiggling a key at the door to room #9. It’s the man from earlier—Jake Abernathy, he says—and he’s trying to figure out what happened to his every-other-month “standing room reservations” at the Seafairer.

Norma informs him that she had the locks changed when she took over the motel, and that although they’re not officially open for another week, he’s welcome to stay. “I’d be happy to get you a new key,” she says.

“To number nine,” Abernathy insists. Norma doesn’t care what room he stays in—she’s just thrilled to have a customer who is neither a wildly corrupt police officer nor an unconscious sex slave. She gets the key and bids him a good night.

Moments later, Dylan pulls up as Norma is finishing locking up and asks who's staying at the motel. Norma explains the whole standing reservations thing, and Dylan reports that he ran into the same man earlier, just sitting in his car, staring at the motel. “He was weird,” he concludes. “You got all of his info and everything already?”

I’m pretty sure that in Motel Ownership for Dummies, one of the first chapters is about making people pay for their rooms. Norma must have skipped that part, because she didn’t. Dylan offers to take care of it and knocks at Abernathy's door holding a very official-looking clipboard. When Abernathy opens up, Dylan requests a driver’s license and a credit card.

“My information is already in the system,” Abernathy says, but after Dylan explains that their system is different than the Seafairer system, he reluctantly hands his license over. While he’s writing down the info, Dylan asks what kind of business Abernathy’s in.

“Sales,” is the vague answer.

“What kind?” Dylan asks.

“Different kinds.”

Finished with copying the ID information, Dylan asks for a credit card. Abernathy hesitates, then reaches into his wallet and counts out at least five hundred dollar bills.

“That ought to be enough for the next few nights, won’t it?” he asks.

It sure is. Dylan takes the cash. En route to the house, he finds Norma on the outside steps with a bucket and scrub brush. She’s attempting to clean up the Shelby stain, but Dylan gives her a little Geology 101 lesson: “Stone’s porous. You can’t scrub blood out of it. It’ll wear off in time.” He adds that no one’s going to know that’s what the stain is.

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“I’m gonna know," she insists. "Every time I walk out the door it’s gonna be, ‘Oh, what a beautiful day. Heeeey, that’s where Deputy Shelby bled to death.'” She tells him what the restaurant manager said and worries about being the laughingstock of White Pine if the business fails. “That’s not what I moved here for,” she says, and resumes her futile scrubbing.

“You can’t get blood out of stone, Norma,” Dylan repeats, and tosses the wad of hundreds down to her bucket.

Strange Stares and Strange Noises

As they're picking up painting supplies, Norman tells Dylan that he can’t move in with him while their mother is in such a fragile state. The conversation trails off when he sees Bradley getting out of someone’s convertible; a goofy smile spreads over his face. Both brothers stare at her.

She spots Norman, looks a bit uncomfortable, but walks over to say hi anyway. She reports that she’s picking up some takeout because her mom’s out of town for a few days.

“Oh, you’re all by yourself there??” Norman asks, a little too excitedly.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” she says, then turns her attention to Dylan. “You work for Gil, right? My dad used to work with him. His name was Jerry Martin.”

Dylan makes the connection and offers her his condolences.

“Thanks,” Bradley says, and the two of them lock eyes until Norman interrupts.

“Your food’s gonna get cold,” he announces, which breaks Bradley out of her reverie.

Once Norman is in the truck, she shares one more lingering glance with Dylan.

“Is that the girl that texted you the other night? The one I told you to sleep with?” Dylan asks. Norman confirms that it is, but says that they haven’t really seen each other since.

“You know, her dad died. She’s got stuff going on,” Norman replies.

“Sure,” Dylan says unconvincingly.

At home, Norma is in bed when she hears a strange noise. She heads downstairs to investigate. In the dark. Alone. Will she ever learn? The back door leading out from the kitchen is banging open and shut in the wind. Norma grabs a knife, just in case something other than the wind opened that door. As she closes the door, she looks around outside. Nothing’s there.

Emma and Norma Join Forces

Emma comes over to see if Norman can come out to play.

Norma says she’ll go upstairs and get him. “Did you get a dog?” Emma asks, and they both look at the plate of food on the porch. Norma says she’s not aware of one, then goes to retrieve Norman. Turns out he’s is too busy pining for Bradley to waste time on Emma.

“You know that sweet girl likes you, right?” Norma asks.

“Maybe it’s nicer not to lead someone on,” he replies pointedly. His mother doesn’t miss the thinly-veiled accusation, and she’s suddenly giving him hell for leaving food out for stray animals.

She thunders downstairs to tell Emma that Norman is “sick,” but Emma’s no fool. She's headed out the door with tears in her eyes when Norma offers to buy lunch in exchange for directions to an interior decorating store.

On the way there, Norma probes for information on Norman.

“You wouldn’t happen to know what he’s so preoccupied with, would you?” she asks Emma.

Ummm, let’s see. Could it the move to a new town? His mom’s rape? The sex slave he rescued, who was later hunted down and killed on Bates property? The Deputy Shelby standoff? The fact that he thinks his mom might have killed his dad? That little notion his mom planted about him imagining things that aren’t really there?

Nah, it’s just Bradley. “I don’t know how fast he’s gonna get over her,” Emma tsks.

“Is he sleeping with this girl?” Norma is quick to ask.

“I - I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.” I’m impressed with the variety of inflections in her voice. It’s the perfect teen denial. Norma asks what Bradley is like.

“She’s like a locomotive of sexual energy.” (Quote of the week.) Norma wonders how a high school girl could possibly be such a big deal. Clearly Norma has been out of that scene for a while, because my (also not-so recent) recollection is that popular teenage girls are forces to be reckoned with.

“I can show her to you after we go get the window sheers,” Emma offers. “She takes a yoga class by our shop. But ... that’s crazy, right?” Mrs. Bates never met a crazy plan she didn’t like, so they're immediately lurking outside of the yoga class, hiding from view about as well as my toddler hides during peek-a-boo.

After Emma points her out (“Blonde. Perfect. Two o’clock.”), Norma remembers that Bradley showed up on her doorstep for a “study date” the day after they moved in. After picturing Norman and Bradley doing some things you probably shouldn’t picture your son doing, Norma looks physically ill. They leave.

The Birds and the Bees, by Norma Bates

At home, Norman has coaxed the stray dog up onto the motel porch using the breadcrumb method.

“You have to come get this one, Juno,” he says, holding out his hand. Cautiously, the newly-named mutt comes forward to take the tasty morsel. Norman looks delighted—until the dog runs off as Norma approaches.

“You don’t know where she’s been or what she’s been doing. Stay away from her,” Norma snaps, and she’s mostly not talking about about the dog.

Up at the house, as mother and son are washing dishes together, Norman gives his pitch for keeping the dog. “She’s lost. She has no home. She’s lonely. I always wanted a dog. All families have a dog. It’s what you’re supposed to do. It’s normal.”

“Normal” is the magic word—Norma gives in, but says she’s not taking care of the dog. Then she springs The Talk on him. “Sex is a serious thing, Norman,” she says, clutching his hand. “You don’t know that girl well enough to be screwing her.”

“She’s a nice girl, mother.”

“Well, that remains to be seen. Personally, I don’t think nice girls come to your doorstep looking for a guy one day after he moves in, or sleep with someone they barely know at the age of 17, no less.”

Then, Norma launches into this whole weird explanation about how having sex is apparently similar to mixing Coke and Mentos. “Having sex with a woman literally affects her physical being. There are chemicals that are released in a woman’s body during and after sex that actually alter her. It’s like a science experiment. It affects her mind, okay? That’s dangerous stuff. That’s not something you want to be dabbling around in for fun.”

Norman says that he’s not dabbling—he really likes her. Awkward pause.

“Ohhhh,” Norma finally says. She smiles kind of condescendingly, then acts like she's changing the subject, telling Norman that she hired Emma for a few days a week because she needs help running her utterly vacant motel.

Norman sees through this charade and accuses his mother of matchmaking.

“It’s not like Bradley’s your girlfriend,” Norma snarks. “You don’t go out or anything.”

“It’s because her dad died, okay?” Norman gets defensive and storms out of the house.

“Normaaaaaan!” she screams through the night. I love that scream. I might make it my ringtone.

Romance is Dead, and so is Juno

Norman is, of course, headed to Bradley’s house. He creeps on her through a window for a while, then finally gets up the guts to knock on the door. Bradley is not as elated to see him as he had probably been hoping. He tells her they need to talk, but she claims to have a lot of homework. Norman either can’t read between the lines or doesn’t want to, because he plows ahead anyway.

“You’ve been through a lot. And I understand this. I lost my father too,” he says. “I know it can be confusing. But I also know that what happened to us was real.”

Bradley’s attempts to stop him before he further humiliates himself fall on deaf ears. My roommate in college had this endearing/annoying habit of changing the channel whenever something embarrassing was about to happen. She doesn’t watch Bates Motel, but if she did, she would be infuriating me right ... about ... now.

“I know we have a connection. You know, ‘cause I can feel it. Everytime I see you, it’s there. And that night we spent together was... and I know it was the same for you because you were there with me, right? So I don’t know what’s holding you back. You haven’t answered my texts. Maybe you haven’t broken up with Richard yet or something. But you should. Because you and I—we’re together, right?”

Finally able to get a word in edgewise, Bradley tells Norman that it was all a mistake. She doesn’t feel that way about him.“I shouldn’t have done it with someone—like you,” she says.

“Someone like me,” Norman repeats. His eyes turn dark and dangerous; he stalks off. “Personally, I don’t think nice girls come to your doorstep looking for nice guys one day after he moves in,” he recites to himself in the exact same tone of voice his mother used. “Or sleeps with someone they barely know at the age of 17, no less. I mean, really, what kind of a girl does that, invites you over to have sex with them after their dad dies?”

Bradley has been chasing him. When she catches up and asks him if he’s okay, he glowers at her. “I don’t think you’re a nice girl,” he says. She wraps him in a hug and apologizes. Norman goes home.

At the motel, Norma is reviewing the non-existent reservations again when Abernathy pushes open the door. He compliments her on the renovations and offers to spread the word about her business. He'd also like to book all of the rooms—all of them—for the first week of every other month.

Norma is elated, until something dawns on her. “It’s not anything illegal, right?”

“No, it’s not illegal.” They share a little chuckle.

Outside, Norman is almost back home when he sees Juno the dog across the street. He could use a friend right now, so he crouches down and calls her—just as a car approaches.

The “special effect” of the dog being hit is not realistic in the least. It looks exactly like a firmly-stuffed plushie falling over on the road, and for that I am grateful. Norma runs out of the house at the sound of the screeching tires.

“I killed my dog,” Norman cries, and my heart breaks. “I’m taking her to Emma’s dad. He can fix dead things.” Ummm.

“She’s dead, Norman,” Norma says. “No one can fix her.”

“I’m not gonna leave her in the street! I’m taking her to Emma’s!”

“This is crazy,” she protests.

“IT’S NOT CRAZY,” he screams (totally crazily). Norma relents, hugging him and offers to drive him to Emma’s house.

“I was wrong, mother,” Norman says, calmly. “About everything.”

Next week’s episode is called “A boy and his dog,” so I suspect that we’re going to witness the true birth of Norman’s obsession with taxidermy. Get excited!

Notes:

- “Seafairer” is the series’ misspelling, not mine. Think they did it on purpose? A reference to the White Pine Bay “eye for an eye” concept of fair? Yeah, it’s probably just a typo.

- Bedford House Restaurant = reference to John Bedford, a man in an Alfred Hitchcock Presents episode who is accused of murdering his wealthy aunt. To scare a confession out of Bedford, an investigator hires an actress to pretend to be the ghost of the dead woman. Hmmm.

- Likewise, Abernathy is the name of a man in “Martha Mason, Movie Star,” another Alfred Hitchcock Presents episode.

- So, Juno the dog. The Roman goddess Juno is way too complicated to dissect in this already-lengthy recap, but here are the highlights: she was a protector, is associated with eternal youthfulness and was known for the complexity and multiplicity of her personality. Or maybe Norman just really likes Diablo Cody.

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#TBT
The Night the Brat Pack Was Born
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If Emilio Estevez had opted to pay for his movie ticket, the Brat Pack might never have been born. It was spring 1985, and Estevez—then the 23-year-old co-star of St. Elmo’s Fire—was being profiled in New York Magazine. The angle was that Estevez had just signed a deal to write, direct, and star in his own feature, That Was Then... This is Now, an opportunity that was rarely afforded to young Hollywood talent. Estevez was two years younger than Orson Welles was when he performed similar duties for 1941’s Citizen Kane.

That youthful exuberance was on display as New York writer David Blum followed Estevez in and around Los Angeles for several days gathering material for the story. With Blum in tow, Estevez decided that he wanted to catch a screening of Ladyhawke, a fantasy film starring Matthew Broderick. For reasons not made entirely clear, he preferred not to have to pay for a ticket. According to Blum, Estevez called the theater and politely asked for free admission before entering an 8 p.m. screening.

It's likely Estevez was just having a little fun with his celebrity. But to Blum, it was indicative of a mischievous, slightly grating sense of entitlement. Blum’s assessment was that Estevez was acting “bratty,” an impression he felt was reinforced when he witnessed a gathering of other young actors at LA’s Hard Rock Cafe for the same story.

What was supposed to be a modest profile of Estevez turned into a cover story declaration: Hollywood’s “Brat Pack” was here, and they had decided to forego the earnest acting study preferred by their predecessors to spend their nights partying instead.

The day the story hit newsstands, Blum received a call from Estevez. “You’ve ruined my life,” he said.

The June 1985 cover of New York magazine
New York, Google Books

Blum’s label had its roots in the Rat Pack of the 1960s, so named for the carousing boys' club led by Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and Sammy Davis Jr. Whether it was accurate or not, the performers developed reputations for squeezing every last drink, perk, and joke they could out of their celebrity well into middle age.

That dynamic was on Blum’s mind when New York dispatched him to cover Estevez. After he arrived in California, Blum took note of the fact that a tight cluster of actors seemed to have formed a group, both on- and off-screen. Estevez was close friends with Rob Lowe and Tom Cruise, and all of them appeared in 1983’s The Outsiders; Lowe and Estevez were co-starring in St. Elmo’s Fire, a coming-of-age drama that also featured Andrew McCarthy and Judd Nelson; Estevez and Nelson gained a lot of attention for 1984’s The Breakfast Club.

To Blum, Estevez was more than just a multi-hyphenate; he appeared to be the nucleus of a group that spent a lot of time working and playing together. And in fairness to Blum, Estevez didn’t dissuade the writer from that take: Fearing he was coming off as too serious in the profile, Estevez asked Lowe and Nelson to hang out with him at Los Angeles’s Hard Rock Cafe so Blum could see the actor's lighter side.

Nelson would later recall that he felt uneasy around Blum. “Why is this guy having dinner with us?” he asked Estevez. Lowe, meanwhile, was busy flirting with women approaching their table. The group later went to a "punk rock" club, with a Playboy Playmate tagging along.

As celebrity hedonism goes, it was a tame evening. But Blum walked away with the idea that Estevez was the unofficial president of an exclusive club—attractive actors who were soaking up success while idling late into the night.

Blum returned to New York with a different angle for his editors. He wanted to capture this “Brat Pack,” a “roving band” of performers “on the prowl” for good times. Although the magazine had just run a cover story about a teenage gang dubbed “the wolf pack” and feared repetition, they agreed.

As far as Estevez and the others were concerned, Blum was busy executing a piece on Estevez’s ambitions as a writer and director. When Estevez, Nelson, and Lowe appeared on the cover—taken from a publicity still for St. Elmo’s Fire—with his newly-coined phrase, they were horrified.

Blum began getting calls from angry publicists from each of the actors mentioned in the article—and there had been a lot of them. In addition to Estevez, the de facto leader, and lieutenants Lowe and Nelson, Blum had dubbed go-to John Hughes geek Anthony Michael Hall the “mascot”; Timothy Hutton was said to be on the verge of excommunication for his film “bombs”; Tom Cruise, Sean Penn, Nicolas Cage, and Matt Dillon were also mentioned.

To the actors, the effect was devastating. Independent of how they spent their free time, all of them were pursuing serious careers as performers, with producers, directors, and casting agents mindful of their portrayal in the media. Being a Brat Packer was synonymous with being listless, or not taking their craft seriously.

Nelson recalled the blowback was immediate: Managers told him to stop socializing with his friends for fear he’d be stigmatized as unreliable. “These were people I worked with, who I really liked as people, funny, smart, committed to the work,” he said in 2013. “I mean, no one was professionally irresponsible. And after that article, not only [were] we strongly encouraged not to work with each other again, and for the most part we haven’t, but it was insinuated we might not want to be hanging out with these people.”

Universal Pictures

Some of the actors went on The Phil Donahue Show to criticize the profile, asserting that their remarks to Blum had been off-the-record. (Blum denied this.) Lowe told the media that Blum had “burned bridges” and that he was “no Hunter S. Thompson.” Andrew McCarthy called Blum a “lazy … journalist” and found the idea of an actor “tribe” absurd—he had never even met Anthony Michael Hall.

Unfortunately, the name stuck. “Brat Pack” was infectious—a catch-all for the kind of young performer emerging in the ‘80s who could be seen in multiple ensemble movies. While Blum would later express regret over the label, it’s never quite left the public consciousness. In 2005, Universal released a DVD boxed set—The Breakfast Club, Weird Science, and Sixteen Candles—as The Brat Pack Collection.

Nelson, Estevez, and Lowe never again appeared in a movie together. “Personally, the biggest disappointment about it is that ‘Brat Pack’ will somehow figure in my obituary at [the] hands of every lazy and unoriginal journalist,” Estevez told a reporter in 2011. “Warning: My ghost will come back and haunt them.”

Nelson was slightly less forgiving. In a 2013 podcast, he chastised Blum for his mischaracterization of the group of young actors. “I would have been better served following my gut feeling and knocking him unconscious.”

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entertainment
11 Super Great Facts About Superbad
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On the surface, Greg Mottola’s Superbad is the ultimate bromance: it tells the simple story of three dorky high school seniors (Michael Cera, Jonah Hill, and Christopher Mintz-Plasse) on a quest to bring alcohol to a party, just to impress some pretty girls. But beneath the dick jokes and teenage hormones, it’s about the anxiety of leaving for college and growing apart, emotions that producer Judd Apatow and writers Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg channeled into the hit comedy. On the 10th anniversary of its release, the film still holds up and its themes still ring true. Here are 11 things you might not know about the already-classic coming-of-age flick.

1. SETH ROGEN AND EVAN GOLDBERG WROTE THE FILM WHEN THEY WERE TEENAGERS.

It’s no secret that Seth Rogen wrote Jonah Hill’s character as an exaggerated version of his younger self. In an interview with Indie London, Rogen disclosed just how far back the story goes: “Evan Goldberg [and I] started writing it in high school when we were 14 years old and a lot of that stuff [in the movie] actually happened. The relationship between us is totally fabricated for the movie. We did split up eventually, but we don’t give a sh*t … we don’t love each other … The whole fake ID concept happened. Fogell is actually our other best friend and all the names in the movie are people who went to high school [with us].”

2. DIRECTOR GREG MOTTOLA LET THE CAMERA RUN FOR HOURS, EVEN IN BETWEEN TAKES.

When you’ve got Jonah Hill, Michael Cera, and Christopher Mintz-Plasse in an Apatow movie, you know you’ve got to let them play. Which is exactly what Greg Mottola did. “We shot high def, which was the greatest thing ever,” Jonah Hill told About.com. “I literally thought it was the greatest thing. You could just shoot all day. It was so awesome. Like any idea, anything you wanted to try, it wasn’t a waste of money or like time to shoot it. Even if it was crazy like so much stuff in the movie. And I think Greg took a lot of stuff that were like in-between takes and stuff or like reactions or things of us hanging out because they could just keep shooting what they could use in the movie."

3. EVAN GOLDBERG’S BROTHER DREW THE PENISES YOU SEE IN THE FILM.

While only a few censor-friendly organs were shown in a scene in which Seth (Hill) explains to Evan (Cera) his childhood fascination with drawing penises, Evan Goldberg’s brother David actually drew more than 1,000 options from which to choose. “They were hilarious," Hill told About.com. "I think as much credit goes to [David] for how he executed. It’s so funny that he’s a lawyer.” As for the idea to put the joke in the movie in the first place, Rogen swears that that part is not autobigraphical. “That came from nowhere," says Rogen. "I don’t know what it is. I wrote that.”

Superfans of the movie (who don’t already know this) can actually purchase the penis illustrations as movie memorabilia. It exists as a book.

4. PRODUCER JUDD APATOW TAPPED INTO SETH AND EVAN’S FRIENDSHIP TO ADD DRAMA TO THE PLOT.

Rogen and Goldberg grew up together, though they didn’t experience any separation anxiety when they went their separate ways for college. However, for the sake of storytelling, Apatow decided to ramp up the tension. “Maybe Judd got the idea kind of because I was at McGill University in Montreal, Seth was here, and we were growing apart," Goldberg told Reelz. "When in reality I’d be like, ‘All right, see ya later’ and then wouldn’t see Seth for a year and I’d be like, ‘What’s up?’ If [Seth] was like, ‘Yo, I can’t see you for 10 years, but then after that let’s go get a beer,’ I’d be like, ‘Okay.’ With Judd, the idea was developed and he had the idea about college the next year.”

5. MCLOVIN’S MOM HAD TO BE ON SET FOR HIS SEX SCENE.

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Talk about awkward! Christopher Mintz-Plasse was only 17 years old when he shot the film, which required him to have parental supervision during his love scene with Nicola (Aviva Baumann). “It was real awkward but it worked out OK because when I watched the movie with her the sex scene wasn't awkward because she'd been right there when it happened," Mintz-Plasse told The Guardian. "Afterwards we didn't talk about it; we still don't speak about that moment.”

6. ACCORDING TO MICHAEL CERA AND JONAH HILL, THE REAL FOGELL IS MORE LIKE THE EVAN OF THE GROUP.

“It was more like Seth and Fogell making fun of Evan," Hill told Rotten Tomatoes. "Which Evan refuses to admit. But you could tell right away that that was the circumstance. When Evan showed him the movie, they were watching it and like 20 minutes into it or something, Fogell just went, ‘F*ck you dude.’”

However, Michael Cera’s bizarre story about the real Sam Fogell showed inklings of McLovin. “We've heard an awesome story where [Fogell] ... was gonna kill somebody one night,” said Cera. “He got in a bar fight and he went home basically to grab his sword, and he was looking for the guy.”

7. MICHAEL CERA SPENT AN HOUR IMPROVISING DANCE MOVES, WHICH IS WHAT YOU SEE IN THE OPENING CREDITS.

“It was Evan’s idea. For the DVD menu,” Michael Cera told Collider. “If it’s like a Blu-ray disc, they can have menus that long. It would be an hour of me dancing without looping. So the people would be like, ‘Oh, how long does this go on for?’ They would wait for it to loop and it never would.” It wasn’t until post-production when they had the idea to add the footage to the opening credits. “I think it was an editor’s assistant [who] made that intro of me dancing with like a silhouette,” Cera continued. “Then they recorded Jonah dancing because they liked it and decided to use it at the beginning of the movie.”

8. JASON SEGEL READ FOR THE PART OF EVAN.

“The first time I read the script was when we were doing Undeclared and we did a table read and we did it with Jason Segel and Seth reading the leads,” Apatow shares in the film’s DVD commentary. “It went well. It had a lot of heart at that period.” Added Rogen: “It took years to get the dick-to-heart ratio.” Eventually, the actors aged out of the roles, including Freaks and Geeks alum Martin Starr, who read Fogell's part.

9. SETH ROGEN’S ASSISTANT, MATTHEW BASS, PLAYS THE VAGTASTIC VOYAGER.

Columbia/TriStar

When Evan recounts his wild night out to Becca, the film cuts to the trio watching X-rated clips of the Vagtastic Voyager. As it turns out, he’s actually Matt Bass, an actor who was also formerly Rogen’s assistant. In the film’s DVD commentary, Goldberg calls Bass "the greatest Canadian to ever live.”

10. CHRISTOPHER MINTZ-PLASSE’S FIRST SCENE EVER—IN HIS ENTIRE ACTING CAREER—WAS HIS CHARACTER’S INTRO IN HOME ECONOMICS CLASS.

While discussing the scene in the DVD commentary, Mintz-Plasse admitted to being completely terrified filming his first professional movie ever. However, Goldberg reassured Mintz-Plasse, saying, “We read so many non-actors, so many people who had never done anything professionally before, and none of them could hide their fear. That’s why none of them got the job.”

11. JAY BARUCHEL IS RESPONSIBLE FOR GETTING MICHAEL CERA HIS SUPERBAD AUDITION.

“[Jay and I] were working on Fanboys and I said, ‘I think you might like Superbad,’ and literally the first thing he said is, ‘You gotta have Michael Cera come in. He’s f*cking amazing, that guy,” Rogen recalls in the DVD commentary. “I was like, ‘Who the f*ck is that?’” That recommendation led to Michael Cera’s mom getting a hold of the script, which she ended up pushing Michael to consider. Be sure to thank Jay and Michael’s mom for making Superbad the classic that it is.

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