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Sunday 24 June 2012

Character Actors and The Superstars



As I sat there, watching Will Smith’s big return to not only the Men In Black franchise but to acting itself, I realized how bloody entertaining he is. He hasn’t acted in three and a half years and during his performance he never missed a beat. I’m not talking about the movie itself, which of course has it’s flaws, I’m just putting the spotlight on Big Willie himself. He’s so charismatic you love watching him do whatever it is that he does. But what is it that he does?

You see, Will Smith doesn’t really act. Well, he does in the sense that he is an actor and he is given lines to say. He performs, sure, but as what? Will Smith, at least to my knowledge and taste, has never really been known to transform himself. To lose himself in a role and become something nobody even imagined he could do, or, become something where you forget you are watching Will Smith - THAT he’s never done. However, audiences love him, think he’s a great actor and adore his on screen presence. Will Smith is just cool. And we enjoy watching him just being cool as himself. Will Smith isn’t so much an actor, as he is a “Superstar.”

I’m not picking on Smith, so much as just using him as an example of how people will go out in droves to see actors like Smith just be themselves. Smith has a range, and it is a small one. Even branching out to do something like Ali was still just Smith doing his version of Muhammad Ali. While I really enjoy that movie and think his performance is amazing, I never stop being aware that Smith is playing Ali. 

This is the exact opposite of what a character-actor does: someone who completely transforms themselves into a character. You don’t know it’s them or you're at least not constantly reminded of who is playing that character. 

Take for instance, Phillip Seymour Hoffman. He has built his career on taking roles that are so vastly different from each other. You can actually get confused on where he gets his talent from. His range is vast, jumping from a quiet and timid personal nurse in Magnolia, to Truman Capote in Capote to a cold and unsettling Priest in Doubt. He’s all over the map, and while before and after the films you know it’s him, you are never reminded during the performance.

So why compare these two styles of acting that dominate Hollywood, when one clearly has the so called “talent” factor? Because they need each other. 

Superstars make the big money. Let’s just get that out of the way right now. From Smith, to Brad Pitt, to DiCaprio, to Angelina Jolie and Scarlett Johansson, they demand and command the big bucks. And rightfully so. You can’t put Phillip Seymour Hoffman or Paul Giamatti at the top of a movie poster and expect at least 100 million at the box office. Sure, good acting is to follow, no doubt, but not big bucks. You place Tom Cruise above a title on a poster, and you got yourself a summer blockbuster or the big event movie of the Christmas season. It doesn’t even matter if the movie has good or bad word of mouth, people will come out in droves just to see someone like Cruise or Jolie. 

And why do we do this, when Cruise and Jolie are far from the best actors on the planet? Because we feel connected to superstars. We know so much about them (since they’re celebrities) that while their careers are not our own, we feel attached to them. We want to see them succeed or fail. Superstars are burdened with having to live their lives almost as its own movie, and thus we get to watch that and we get to see individual pieces of work they do throughout it. 

On the other side of the coin we are left with the character-actors. While the Superstars take the brunt of the attention, character-actors are now left to do what they do best: work. They’re not the exciting people that go to clubs or big Hollywood parties every other night and make a scene. They aren’t the ones that the paparazzi are going nuts for to get a picture. This allows free reign to pick a number of projects, without too much consequence. 

However it allows for something else, something far more important. With them not being on every tabloid cover, character-actors like Hoffman, Giamatti, Gary Oldman or even Meryl Streep can more convincingly transform themselves into a role where you aren’t reminded every other second that they are an actor. They just are the role. This is in large part due to you and I not knowing what they did last night, what they did two weeks ago, or if their marriage is on the rocks. They are just known to us as actors. Not stars. 

The only example that breaks the mold and combines the character-actor with the superstar is Johnny Depp. While he is one of the most famous people on the planet, Depp still finds a way to transform himself into a character that is completely different from the last one he just played. Edward Scissorhands to Jack Sparrow to Sweeny Todd to The Mad Hatter are just a small group of characters from his collection that showcases how far he goes to be different. 

While I'm sure arguments abound occur about whether you can even consider Depp a character actor since his fame renders him unable to hide in plain sight on the screen, as character actors do, there was a time in which Depp was not the mega-superstar he is today. Before Pirates of the Carribean, you would be hard pressed to find anyone who wouldn’t consider him a normal character actor. An actor that jumps from oddball role and genre every project. Sure, you knew “of him” but you wouldn’t consider him a blockbuster star. And that’s all it takes. One amazing role (Captain Jack) to propel from obscurity. 

So what about decade long character actors that have a number of roles, but never have made the jump like Depp has? Well that’s tricky. Character actors by their very definition are “every man” (or woman) types. William H. Macy and Paul Giamatti are perfect examples to this. They play roles that most middle aged men can relate to and women may be with or married to. There aren’t many summer tent pole movies, especially now with comic book movies ruling the box office, that demand every man type actors. 

Which leads us to why superstars, who obviously lack the chameleon ability, rule the big films. Because superstars are escapes. They are bigger than life. We each know someone “like” Will Smith, or has qualities like him, but we don’t know him. Superstars are our projections of what we want to be like. I would like to be as confident as Brad Pitt, as witty as Ryan Reynolds and have the charm of Tom Cruise, but I don’t. And from a male perspective, superstar actresses like Johansson or Kristen Stewart or Keira Knightly are the dream girls. The objects we want. But they aren’t real. They are the dreams. 

The character actors play us. They play and are in movie that are closer to problems we actually deal with. As much as I’d like the idea of having to decide between which Spider-Man costume I want to wear before I fight bad guys, my issues in life are like yours. Paying bills. Getting to work on time. Do I have enough clean socks? Take your pick. 

But in the end, these two groups need each other in order to survive. While the Superstars are still the ones we most want to see by and large, character-actors need the superstars to get movies made. So many stories are told of movies that only got the green-light when someone like Brad Pitt came aboard. Lesser known actors can’t throw that kind of star power around, but they can throw it down in a scene, making movies much more dynamic then just a crazy superstar bonaza with no substance. Just ask the dudes in The Expendables.

Tuesday 5 June 2012

The Alternate Five: Great Movies You'll Probably Only Watch Once

If you feel too good about your life, if things are going well and you'd like to feel bad, watch these movies. We can almost guarantee you'll only want to watch them once. Unless you enjoy being depressed, then by all means watch away.

In no particular order, we have compiled a list of movies that, while not judging the quality, seem almost created for the sole purpose to effect us on such a deep level, we never want to experience them again. They're all artistic feats that should be commended and definitely viewed if you love movies. However these films, at least for us, have left us devestated once the end credits roll.

The key reason why these films are so tough to repeat is that they provide an experience for the audience that is exhausting. By the end of the story you are physically and mentally drained.

Most Depressing Moment = MDM
Reason to Watch Again = RWA


 
Requiem For A Dream (2000)
This is probably the movie on the list that most of you have seen at least once. Famous for its depicition of how heavy drug use can help you lose weight in all sorts of creative ways, Requiem for a Dream is Daren Aronofsky's devastating tour de force. The focus is on four characters: Harry Goldfarb, his mother Sarah, his girlfriend Marion, and his best mate Tyrone. Harry and Tyrone have the classically brilliant idea of selling heroin to make mucho money and live the easy life. However, things go awry, let's say, and hilarity ensues. While this is going on, Sarah Goldfarb is feeling a little self-conscious about her weight, wishing she could fit into an old dress, and she takes a few prescription pills to help her simultaneously lose weight and clean at an alarming rate. Marion is an addict who is more or less along for the ride. While the laughs come easy with Requiem, there are a few scenes that are difficult to get through, especially the ending (no spoilers, don't worry). But if you haven't guessed by now, this isn't actually a very fun movie and is possibly one of the toughest on the list. We absolutely recommend it though - especially to heroin addicts.

MDM: While the ending montage is like being in a boxing match without arms, it's a toss up for us between Ellen Bernstien's psychotic trip on the subway and her monologue to Jared Leto about becoming insignificant. Both are wildly mezmerizing but just about the most pathetic, hard-to-watch scenes on the entire list.
RWA: It's Aronofsky's relentless directing style that might bring you back.

 
Leaving Las Vegas (1995)
This is a perfect example of the difference between never watching a movie again because it's bad, and never watching a movie again because it's downright depressing. Yes, despite his recent run of sub-par choices, Nicolas Cage did make fantastic movies back in his heyday - Leaving Las Vegas being one of his better performances. In it, Cage plays an out-of-work writer with the determination to drink himself to death. No food, no water - just alcohol. The effect the process has on his body is hard enough to watch, but the way it affects his relationship with Elizabeth Shue's character is even more difficult. Both are desperately pathetic people and sadly never reach that moment of redemption, making the audience feel like although they went through shit, the character's reach a point of innocent happiness.

MDM: "I'll stay with you, but you can never ask me to stop drinking."
RWA: Cage's Academy Award winning performance.

 

Antichrist (2009)
This is a movie that isn't so much depressing as it is gruesome. Take away the subject matter and one might call the film beautiful, but alas, this movie is far from a love story. Lars Von Tier is known to shock. To go places most normal-minded people won't even go in the darkest parts of their minds. He puts those images on film and then tops them. Antichrist is just one of those movie watching experiences that you have to watch once, not just to say you did, but to immerse yourself in the most disgusting parts of human emotion. The film centers on two characters (the only ones in the film) 'He' (Willem DeFoe) and 'She' (Charlotte Gainsbourg) as they travel/stay at their cabin in the woods after the accidental death of their infant son. What follows is an abyss of despair, horror and mutilation as He tries to bring his wife back from the depths of despression. While von Tier says he failed at making a horror film, anyone who has ever seen Antichrist know he succeded. 

Most Gruesome Moment: The many instances of mutilation, espeically the self-mutilation by 'She' done at the end.
RWA: The cinemetography. It is undoubtedly one of the most beautiful films we've watched, most notably the first scene rendered in black and white. However, with that said, the irony in this choice is that the most disturbing content we've seen is filtered through the most elegant images.  

 
Buried (2010)
 Ryan Reynolds, we love you, but god damn, Buried is a hard movie to watch. The plot is simple: Paul Conroy is buried alive. That's about it. There are some political overtones and a bit of a hostage taking, but other than that it's just Reynolds for 95 minutes. The camera never leaves the makeshift coffin that surrounds Reynolds for the duration of the film, so we really only get to hear someone else's voice and see someone else's face very briefly. The difficulty with watching Buried is just how many times things don't work out for Conroy. And we've tried to think of a moment in the film where you actually become happy for Conroy, but haven't found much. We wish we could say more about this movie, but we've decided to not give any spoilers in this post, just in case. All we will say is this: yes, the plot does seem simple and it may be entirely clausterphobic to watch someone trapped in a box for 90 minutes, but there is a reason to watch this movie that takes so many risks in its production. And yes, while being buried alive is probably one of the biggest fears for most people reading this, it shouldn't deter you from watching this at least once. 




MDM: Scene where he finds out he is no longer employed, so his family is no longer covered by his possible death. It is this that leaves the whole film without much, if any, redemption.
RWA: While Reynolds' performance is outstanding, the intimacy of the film, taking place all in one very small area, is unlike any other movie we've seen.

United 93 (2006)
It's difficult watching a movie when you know the ending and still feel like you've recived the entire experience. United 93 has that burden, yet instead that is what makes this film so excrutiating to watch. We all know the story (the fourth and only flight of the 9/11 attacks that didn't reach its target) and we all know how this ends, and how tragic it is. Yet that's exactly why watching this film is not only depressing and exhausting, it's just 110 minutes of dread. You know what's coming, and the more you get to know these people the harder it is to continue watching, knowing these are the last moments of their lives. No movie on this list, of that year or even since then, has done such an insane job at putting you right there. The director Paul Greengrass gives you no room to breathe. For most of the experience it feels like you are right there, on the flight, with these heroes. You know the plane is going down, and there is nothing you can do about it.

MDM: The last ten minutes might be one of the most intense expereinces ever in cinema, but the phone calls placed to loved ones when the passengers are about to try to take back the plane are beyond heartbreaking to watch.  
RWA: The great use of the docu-drama style. (But even that might not be enough).


Honorable Mentions
Hard Candy (2005)
Naked (1993)
Blue Valentine (2010)