His parents were good ones, ones that could provide more and more of it than most others were able. They were caring, nurturing, and encouraging of his many endeavors. All they hoped in return was that he would get a degree and behave in a way that would make them proud; essentially, just not grow up be a useless rich kid shithead. And he almost managed to. The problem (other than an alarmingly early and severe diagnosis of ADHD, as is always the case with these types), his parents would surmise, was that they had been too encouraging of this acting thing they thought he'd have grown out of by high school. He didn't.

  Though teachers may have hated him, Owen was the kind of kid parents loved. Chatty, charming, and and unfailingly polite, he had the air of a politician about him early on. His parents had raised him well. He was respectful to his elders, he was never mean to girls or little siblings, and once, when the neighborhood psycho was terrorizing a cat, Owen snuck up behind him with a stick and switched him so hard in the calves that he pissed himself. Everyone knew him, most liked him, and when he got older and his star rose, citizens of his city and country felt proud to call him one of their own. These days, he is the embodiment of humble Canadian celebrity one would imagine would always have laughs and a cold beer ready for you and your buddies. It just took some time and life experience to get there.

  At ten years old, little Owen's career began when he landed a spot on Are You Afraid Of The Dark?, which filmed locally. Suddenly, he was the coolest motherfucker in middle school, and he acted like it. Two years later, his character's story had come to an end, but his harmless-but-infuriating classroom antics hadn't. When Disney was calling, his school's faculty begged him to answer. Anything to get this proto-Bieber asshole out the door.

  In between positions anyway, Owen's father agreed to take two years off to supervise his son in Orlando. A professor by trade, he kept Owen's correspondence schooling on track. Perhaps a little too on track. Perhaps a little dictatorly for a free spirit who just wanted to enjoy spending sunny winter days (something completely foreign to him as a Canadian) hanging around a pool with Britney Spears. This caused a friction between them which had never been there before. Owen and the doctor severed their professional relationship before his senior year, at which time he announced he would be returning to Canada, but not to finish his schooling - to shoot a show about a high school on a cruise ship, in fact. It was as ridiculous as it sounds, but at eighteen, he was free to be ridiculous. He'd never seen anyone so furious.

  He moved to LA that year, making ends meet however he could. Now that he was legally allowed to be cute, this was Abercrombie & Fitch ads and completely shit roles about cool mean football players with few (though noteworthy) exceptions. Nobody remembered the latter. He became crippled by typecasting to the extent that he was openly scoffed at when he went to auditions for more diverse roles, and eventually, his agents stopped sending him to them. It was getting embarrassing.

  Being too handsome to be taken seriously is a wonderful problem to have, but it wasn't fulfilling or paying the bills. Owen floundered for a while, and he got a little bitter about it all. Around this time was the infamous Y2K Jag incident. His performance in Life As A House, which had required a drastic alteration of his appearance, had been nominated for Golden Globe and SAG Awards. He'd thought he'd finally made it, but he was young and thin-skinned and unprepared for the onslaught of shit talk about the "undeserving pretty boy" who "probably sucked a dude off" to get it. So he was mad and kinda drunk and bought a car, which realistically, he wouldn't be able to afford for several years. He sold it a weekend later to get a new place. Life As A Car. Dude, Where's My House?

  He kept on for several more years. By 2006, when nobody had seen Brick, but were still making jokes about Pearl Harbor, he felt that he couldn't do so any longer. He was a good kid. Misguided, stupid, and hubristic, yes, but good. The dumb things he did never hurt anyone, and his only real offense was being too sheltered to realize how good he'd had it. Now, though, in his mid-twenties, when his siblings and high school friends were getting promotions and advanced degrees, did he realize how badly he'd fucked up. He was a joke, and, worst of all, one with a punch line that nobody had ever heard of. With what he had left, he went traveling before making his humble way home.

  Valentino wrote a part based on him in his upcoming film, Tropic Thunder. He'd never imagined that he'd also ask him to play that part, but he did, and doing so set a precedent for the rest of his career. He thrived in comedy, which, having forced himself into roles that didn't fit him, he'd never known. Ironically, being funny got him taken seriously. On the heels of this was a record year with 127 Hours, Crazy Stupid Love, and The Ides of March. His stunt at the 83rd Annual Academy Awards set back some of the progress he'd made in becoming a Real Actor (tm), but he has become a household name nonetheless, finding success in comedy and drama - wherever he can find it, really. These days, he is considered to be likeable, charming, and humble by audiences. Growing up has done wonders for him.

  In 2014, he left Los Angeles for a secluded ranch property outside Telluride, Colorado. Having achieved meme status, going places without getting mobbed was becoming an issue, and the Hollywood lifestyle wasn't for him anymore. On the ranch, he spends his time hiking, biking, fishing, and woodworking alongside his two dogs and the pregnant cat who recently wandered onto his property and won't leave.