P.S. I should note I still haven't seen Dead Again and Carrington,which by many accounts are considered two of her greatest performances.
5. In the Name of the Father
Despite being nominated for the Best Supporting Actress Oscar, I feel like her work here is very underrated in many regards. As the lawyer defending Gerry Conlon (Daniel Day-Lewis) from accusations of IRA terrorism, Thompson has a less showy role than Lewis, and less of an emotional core and investment in the story as Pete Postlethwaite as Gerry's father. This relative lack of focus and material doesn't hinder her at all, though. She's absolutely dynamic in each of her scenes with Day-Lewis, playing off his volatile performance perfectly with her strong-willed and tough approach, while also displaying a growing emotional connection to the case, and is dynamite in the scenes defending Day-Lewis.
4. Sense and Sensibility
I love the film, but I must confess, I've always enjoyed the Marianne side of things as opposed to the Elinor side. I know they intertwine quite frequently, but in both novel and film I find it's just far more interesting to see the growth in sensibility of Marianne (Kate Winslet), her disillusionment with Willoughby (Greg Wise) and Colonel Brandon (Alan Rickman) gradually revealing such beautifully nuanced warmth and love (speaking of which, Rickman's performance here is probably the closest he ever got to his real-life persona, methinks; for someone who made his name with villains like the Sheriff of Nottingham and Hans Gruber, his heartfelt portrayal here is the best he's ever been). Not that the Elinor/Edward stuff is bad at all, it's actually very sweet and charming, and Thompson and Hugh Grant (here in the phase of his career where he was still believable as a fresh-faced and likable kind chap). Thompson has the most subtle role in the film I'd argue, as the most sensible of all the characters. This in turn makes her performance more reactionary than one might expect, but that's fine with Thompson as she gives an extremely nuanced portrayal of a reserved woman of her time, whose calm and cool facade nevertheless belies a truly caring heart underneath.
3. The Remains of the Day
The film is a brilliant adaptation, one of the very best of Merchant Ivory, of one of the greatest novels ever written. Kazuo Ishiguro's deeply complex exploration of butler Stevens (here played by Anthony Hopkins), and his retrospective look over his life and career against the context of who his master (Edward Fox) was exactly, and who HE was, is, will be. I haven't done a terribly great job of going into the novel's complexities, it's extremely difficult, which is why the film cleverly does not try to encompass all of its themes. The subtext of WWII and Lord Darlington's participation in its conception is still there of course, and incredibly well explored, but the film also gives a great deal of focus to Stevens' relationship to the housekeeper Miss Kenton, and how it reveals in short bursts a different side to the reserved butler. Thompson brilliantly utilizes the stereotype of the flirty, flighty housekeepr to bring such joy and energy to the screen, sharing a terrific dynamic with Hopkins' blunt, deadpan approach that is both slightly comic and deeply introspective. Along that she brings about a slow revelation of her character's deeper feelings for Stevens beyond being just colleagues. Each scene they share together, building up towards a love that will never be realized due to Stevens' reticence, is utterly heartbreaking due to the subtlety both actors employ in their scenes together.
2. Howard's End
Now I'll admit I actually need a bit of a re-watch for this...anyway, another Merchant Ivory production here, with Thompson playing this time round not a working-class housekeeper but a memeber of the bourgeoisie, and suitably refines her whole style of performance to that of Margaret Schlegel, as honest, likable, charming and intelligent a heroine as they come. I need to watch the film again to comment further, but I highly recommend it, it's a fine depiction of a class divide between three families, and at its centre Thompson stands the brightest in bringing some excellent low-key humour into the part, especially in scenes with Hopkins (they have such good chemistry, I hope they'll work together again sometime soon), and bring it all in the more emotional moments.
1. Saving Mr Banks
I'll admit the structure of the film might prove a bit off-putting for some, but I personally loved it a great deal. It's again not a flawless film, but I have to say I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of this 'biopic' surrounding the creation of Mary Poppins, especially on the meetings between Walt Disney (Tom Hanks) and Pamela Travers (Thompson), for a multitude of reasons. The script is clever (if largely fictionalized) and at times rather effective in paralleling Travers' childhood relationship to her loving but tough mother (Ruth Wilson) and kind but alcoholic father (a great Colin Farrell), with the present-day Travers. The direction is good, there's fun shout-outs to the film, as I mentioned there's good performances all-round, but above all carrying the film is Thompson as Travers. She does the whole 'acerbic, barbed-tongue writer' routine with aplomb, and is delightfully snarky and fun to watch in every scene she disparages the work of Disney and his employees for laying waste to her creation. As she gradually lets her defenses fall though, Thompson doesn't fall into the trap of potential schmaltz and sentimentality, and instead maintains a consistent portrayal of Travers' humour and edge, to go along with her gradual opening up to her colleagues and embracing fun and joy.
Then the last act of the film, where as always complications come up, Thompson is so powerful in bridging the heartbreaking past scenes with the present scenes, and showing a truly changed Travers. Her interactions with Hanks' Disney are all very moving to watch, and her final reactions at the premiere, though most certainly fictionalized (by all accounts Travers hated the finished product of Mary Poppins), is strikingly portrayed and hits the heartstrings in just the right way.
5. In the Name of the Father
6. Nanny McPhee (a re-watch could bump this up)
7. Stranger than Fiction
8. Love Actually (She's probably my favourite of the cast)
The art of playing the everyman has become very underrated amongst audiences nowadays, and no one does it quite as well as Mr Hanks. I'll get to who I feel is his female, British equivalent in my next post (hint: she starred with him in 'Saving Mr Banks'), but for the time-being let's look at the career highlights of Mr Hanks.
5. Forrest Gump
The film and this performance is certainly a divisive one, and I completely understand that a lot of one's appreciation for Hank's depiction of good ol' Forrest, depends on how one takes to the feel-good, sentimental approach of Robert Zemeckis to the American underdog story. If you don't like the film, you won't like his performance. Well I'll be the first to admit it's flawed in many regards, but I love it warts and all. It's an engaging and clever spin on the 'inspirational hero' story as our protagonist, Forrest, achieves a great many things but is always driven not by pursuit of fame, fortune but the love of a girl who's really not all that great (I love Robin Wright, but the writing of her character Jenny in this film has some serious flaws). Hanks plays Forrest in a fairly one-note fashion as a constant throughout the film, our none-too-bright but in many regards, incredibly competent (ping pong, the Army, running) protagonist. Hanks' character creation of Gump's always slightly slow delivery, but constant optimism and kindness, is impressive, and he carries the film extremely well as the likable hero and whenever a scene asks more of him, in classic Hanks fashion he delivers the emotions perfectly. Take for example, the third clip I enclose below where he finds out he has a son, around the 3 minute mark. In a few seconds and a simple delivery of a line, he never fails to make my heart hurt for his kind, selfless hope for his son to not be 'dumb' like him. In my opinion, very much a deserved Oscar win.
4. Big
You'll probably have seen the above snippet of the film, whether you've seen Big or not. Well here's me telling you, watch it. It's nothing grand or amazing, just a cute little Pinnochio-esque film about a young boy who wishes to become 'big' and becomes an adult overnight. Now if there's anyone you need to make a literal man-child both endearing and believable, you can't go better than Hanks (note: this is the sort of role someone like Will Ferrell would take nowadays that could go either way). Hanks gives a pitch-perfect portrayal of a young boy in a grown man's body through his physical performance. He makes this fit perfectly in line with his more conventional scenes as a love interest and just overall charming guy, and sort of bridges the idealism and innocence of a kid with the screen presence of Tom Hanks, by essentially playing them as two factors that gradually come together in this 'coming-of-age' tale, quite literally. Another well deserved Oscar nomination for Hanks, in fact I'd argue all his nominations have been deserving.
3. Bridge of Spies
Hanks' role as lawyer James Donovan is more of a reactive than active sort to the changing environment and situations around him, here being strung into defending an accused Soviet spy Rudolf Abel (Mark Rylance). Hanks faces a hurdle in his outset in that his co-star Rylance, who he shares some big scenes with, gives a powerful and incredibly entertaining performance that could've easily overshadowed many a lesser performance. Indeed, first time I watched the film, I was so absorbed by Rylance's sublime work, I almost neglected Hanks completely, a very dangerous thing to do. It's easy to forget against his Oscar-winning work, that a great deal of the effectiveness of Rylance's scenes rely a lot on Hanks as well. Take the below three scenes for example; Rylance is respectively the comical, ominous, and inspirational highlight of them, but it's Hanks silent reactions that really help sell the humour of the joke, evoke the seriousness of the situation, and pull at the audience's heartstrings. Plus the two have a great chemistry that's always believable, there's a certain charming awkwardness because they're from different countries and backgrounds, but develop a burgeoning friendship that makes the film end on a resonantly powerful note.
Hanks gives one of the best old-style leading turns I've seen in ages, that of an everyman in extraordinary situations that's unfortunately so rare nowadays. Every hero in the modern age of cinema apparently has to have some traumatic backstory, dark past, dark side; the writing behind Donovan, and Hanks' subsequent performance, paint him as 'just an insurance lawyer' who happens to be particularly affable and charming, all right up Hanks' lane. Hanks brings the right sort of Jimmy Stewart as Mr Smith Goes to Washington passion in his court scenes, and scenes where he goes against the indignations of the American public. He's effortlessly compelling in showing the viewer where this desire for justice is coming from, but also his reservations and concern for his family. When Donovan has to go to East Berlin to negotiate the swap for Rudolf Abel and two American citizens, the film's focus shifts to Hanks, and he does not disappoint. He continues his charismatic grasp of the screen while also showing his character's vulnerable side as a fish out of water, and his horrors at the atrocities he witnesses. His final reaction shots to a friend's departure, and vindication of his actions, is an encapsulation of how great his whole performance is. The more I write about this performance the more I realize I kind of love it, it's a very underrated performance, and is so crucial to the effectiveness with which Bridge of Spies utilizes old-school tropes to hit you in the feels.
2. Captain Phillips (warning: spoilers will be revealed as this'll be quite a thorough analysis)
The oddest Oscar snub of 2013 was for Hanks in this portrayal of the real-life titular character of this thrilling (if by some accounts fictionalized) Paul Greengrass film. The film did extremely well at the Oscars in the technical categories, Best Picture, and even nabbed a supporting nod for Barkhad Abdi for Best Supporting Actor. Hanks, who had been nominated for pretty much every acting award for this performance, was left out in the cold. Now to be fair that was a strong year. Christian Bale and Bruce Dern were very good, Chiwetel Ejiofor was terrific, and Matthew McConaghey and Leonardo DiCaprio gave two of the best performances of this past decade. It's a shame though that Hanks' brilliant work couldn't find a spot as this role presented itself as one of his best roles in ages.
Hanks' portrayal of Captain Phillips is an incredibly subdued performance. He has a slight Bostonian accent, which is a nice little touch (accents have never really been Hanks' strong suits, nor does it matter, but he does it well here). A a man running the ship Hanks is not some great captain, nor a man of the sea, no Hanks as per usual plays Phillips as just an average guy. Like in Bridge of Spies, and Cast Away, Hanks' character is placed into danger. This time round it's his ship going through dangerous pirate territory which causes an invasion of the ship, and his portrayal of Phillips' reactions to the intruders is always realistic, with a certain command in trying to calm everyone onboard, but also a growing anxiety.
Once Hanks starts interacting face-to-face with the pirates, is where some of the best moments of the film start to come into play. I'm no fan of Paul Greengrass' camera in some of these scenes as I find his whole quick-cutting, one-camera shots tricks grow a bit tired after a while, and I might have gone off the film altogether were it not for the fantastic acting display. The supporting pirates, played by Barkhad Abdirahman, Faysal Ahmed, and Mahat M. Ali are all very good too, but the highlights and focus are on Hanks and co-star Abdi, who plays the pirate leader Muse. Abdi's cool and incisive approach to taking over the ship, stating that he's 'the Captain now', and telling Phillips to play no games with him, is matched perfectly by Hanks' desperate and emotional, but still calm and assertive ways of dealing with the intruders, putting on a very hapless front while negotiating with the pirates, while suggesting ways in which he is trying to get them off his ship.
Soon the Navy SEALS come round and the four pirates take Hanks hostage on a lifeboat to negotiate demands. Some have considered these lifeboat scenes to be the slowest parts of the film, I actually find them some of the strongest scenes, as Abdi's performance gradually grows with such intensity and desperation that makes the villain strangely sympathetic, and Hanks' performance grows with such fear and increasingly volatile emotions. Hanks even has a few quieter moments where he tries to get Muse to think about what other life he could have chosen besides pirateering, and is quite moving in the gradual sympathy he feels towards the pirates.
Well things come to a bloody end (another fantastic scene for Hanks), Phillips is saved and treated, then we come to Hanks' big scene where he finally takes the whole spotlight. One note about it: they got in a real-life Hospital Corpsman (Danielle Albert) to come perform this scene with Hanks, I really like that little touch as apparently her methodical but comforting approach to treating Phillips is how it really goes on in real-life. I've written a bit about it before, but just to repeat myself, I think it's the finest bit of acting I've ever seen in his career. The shock and traumatized state of Phillips, and the moving portrayal of a man who having had blood shed upon him will never feel quite the same again, is a powerful end to a flawed but at its height, brilliant, film, and a flawless performance, that generously knows when to hold back, and when to let loose.
1. Cast Away (warning: spoilers will be revealed as this'll be quite a thorough analysis)
I go between this performance and his Captain Philips portrayal as my favourite of Hanks, I've seen this more recently so it's fresher in my mind, but I could easily switch back to Captain Philips at any time. One thing that makes this performance stand out to me most is how much the film completely hinges on Hanks' performance. More so than Philips and Bridge of Spies where he had great co-stars and in the case of the latter, a great director (I like Paul Greengrass a lot but his direction of Philips and the cinematography are some of my reservations with that film). More so than Big and Forrest Gump, because in this film he is a one-man showcase for a lot of it. The film is entitled Cast Away and delivers what it promises: Tom Hanks as a man named Chuck Noland, a FedEx employee who after a plane crash finds himself cast away, stranded and alone on a deserted island. It's an excellent film, with Robert Zemeckis proving as he would once again prove in Flight a decade later that he can make a vehicular disaster onscreen a truly terrifying experience, and a wonderful score, but Hanks is without the influence of both of these through large stretches of the film. The film is constructed in a very unique fashion with its bookends, which I'll discuss a bit later, but for large portions this film is all just Hanks on an island.
And this is an acting showcase which had so much potential to become completely ineffective. Hanks' one-man showcase is potentially limited like how Damon's Mark Watney was limited by a sprawling ensemble focus and breezy tone, how Tom Hardy's Locke was limited by a performance confined to a car from shoulders up, how Philip Baker Hall's Nixon was limited by the fact he was in one room on his own the whole time. Hanks' performance is initially limited in a different fashion in that once again, Chuck Noland's an ordinary chap, a bit of a workaholic, he loves his partner (Helen Hunt), loves his job as a FedEx employee, is always concerned about being on time. This is for about the first 30 minutes or so of the film before he's caught in a terrifying plane crash. After the crash, as I mentioned, Hanks is once again limited in that it becomes an almost silent performance for a while. Hanks is quietly effective in the first few scenes on the island where he scrounges around for food and water and looks for help, and is particularly effective in the scenes where he finds a dead body of a pilot (his reactions to looking through the pilot's wallet is particularly heartbreaking), and nearly drowns from trying to escape the island.
As the film progresses, Chuck becomes increasingly exasperated and angered, and in turn his performance becomes shoutier, and more externalized, the scene where he so furiously tosses away his equipment while failing to make a fire works extremely well, and makes his subsequent celebration at having created fire an extremely effective feel-good moment. He also has some excruciating scenes in which he has to remove a rotten tooth, Hanks physically delivers so well in this scene and makes you feel his pain and fear so viscreally.
Chuck soon strikes up a realtionship of sorts with one of the packages he's found lying on the shores of the island, a volleyball who he bestows the name of 'Wilson' upon (because, you know, its brand is Wilson). Hanks would make Ralph Fiennes in In Bruges proud by his ability to strike up a fascinating dynamic with an inanimate fucking object.
He's helped in turn by the well-rounded portrayal of Wilson as an island survivor by the volleyball, who received a substantial share of the film's profits after taking into account inflation, unfortuantely nowadays there's not much call for biopics in his line of sport, this really is his career highlight, unless somebody puts a bit of a spin on his downwards career trajectory, I'm glad he had a ball doing this film, now I should really stop with these ball puns now though I'm on a bit of a roll. I should stop being so lame really because in all honesty, Hanks' performance could've reached a bum note here, but instead he utilizes his relationship with Wilson to show a figure he can talk to, argue with, have compassion for and anger towards. He creates a genuinely moving friendship that reaches two extremely pivotal, heartbreaking moments where Hanks thinks he has lost Wilson, and a point where he actually has.
The escape from the island scenes are where Hanks performance and Zemeckis' direction finally come hand in hand together again, and were the film to conclude at the end of his rescue scene I would be entirely fine with it, as Hank's performance is already remarkable enough at this point. Well, there's more. Many state that the final scenes of Hanks' performance, where his Chuck is once again back in the real world, and adjusting to what's changed, are the best scenes of his performance. I'd have to agree. The scenes where he tearfully apologizes to a friend for not being at his friend's wife's funeral, where he finds objects and food that remind him of his time on the island, his silently tearjerking moment of meeting with his wife's husband, his the teary-eyed, rainy reunion with his wife and him letting go of her, his rumination about contemplations of suicide and what he learned about himself on the island, are all nailed brilliantly. Hanks ends his performance on a perfect note with Chuck Noland at literal crossroads as to where his future lies; striking up a charming rapport with a fellow driver, and having a cheeky, deep and meaningful final glance to a very special someone with his final reaction shot, which I must say seems to be a bit of a Hanks speciality.
P.S. Hanks has a very talented son Colin, who's also an actor, and who I've liked in pretty much everything of the very little I've seen him in. Don't they look a spitting image of one another?
6. Apollo 13
7. Saving Private Ryan
8. The Ladykillers
9. Catch Me If You Can
10. The Terminal
(I should note I've never cared much for Road to Perdition, I haven't seen it in a long time though so a re-watch could bump Hanks' performance up into the list, though I'm not really in the mood to do so. I would recommend it to anyone who loves beautiful looking films though as it really is stunning to look at, however I found it terribly hollow. But that's just me.)
I've realised that a while back, when covering all the Disney and Pixar animated films, I neglected opportunities to talk about a great deal many other animated films I like to love: the Studio Ghibli films for a start (though I have many more to catch up on), Tim Burton's stop-motion ventures, television series films like Batman: Mask of the Phantasm, Batman and Mr Freeze: Sub-Zero, that whole series as a whole, The Adventures of Tin Tin, Scooby-Doo, Where Are You?, Tom and Jerry (though I kind of hate the films associated with that series)...list goes on, and on. And of course it completely excluded my favourite animated films of all-time, yes even more so than Wall-E, the Wallace and Gromit shorts and The Curse of the Were-Rabbit.
Let's focus a bit on the process of stop-motion animation first. It's an extremely meticulous process that takes hours to film a few seconds, in addition Nick Park's Wallace and Gromit films are some of the most minutely detailed animated features of all-time. This makes each production of these features rather time-consuming, and necessitates an amount of planning, cinematography and exquisitely refined direction that may not be easily apparent because of how seamlessly it assimilates into the animation.
What I love about the Wallace and Gromit films on this technical level is how well it utilizes the stop-motion aspect of its visual style. This is most evidently seen through the character of Gromit, a dog who never speaks (I know, bizzare isn't it), and is entirely reliant upon physical actions and facial expressions to convey his feelings. Even without a mouth, it's effortless for the audience to understand what Gromit's trying to communicate or what he's going through, through each scene. It really is rather impressive that this form of animation can give so much life by itself. As for Wallace, his visual panache is added to by the perfect vocal work of Peter Sallis.
Anyway, I've gotten that initial praise out of the way. Now to each specific short and why each of A Grand Day Out, The Wrong Trousers and A Close Shave are such remarkable, distinct examples of Nick Park(I saw A Matter of Loaf and Death a while ago but don't remember all that much about it, but I remember liking it, and I'll hold off on The Curse of the Were-Rabbit for now).
A Grand Day Out is probably the simplest of all of Park's shorts. Now that's not to diminish its quality at all. As a debut it's an incredibly strong work, which tells the simple tale of Wallace and Gromit, sans cheese on a bank holiday, decide to take a trip to the moon, which 'everbody knows is made of cheese'. Watching this particular short always makes me feel a bit hungry, the aesthetic of the moon is particularly well done here as it has such a character all of its own, and manages to make the surface of a planet look quite scrumptious to be had with tea and crackers.
It's funny and sweet, perhaps not as much as the following two shorts, but also shows evidence of a later development towards Park's remarkable use of tension and heart to combine into a thrilling experience. For example take the scene where Wallace forgets the crackers; that's some genuinely heart-pounding stuff:
Also, the heart of the film is surprisingly not just the friendship between Wallace and Gromit (it's relatively simple here, and yet to develop into the strong relationship in the follow-ups). It's 'The Cooker', technically speaking the robot antagonist of the film, but all he really wants is to keep the Moon clean and visit Earth to go skiing. This makes his little plight within the film at first quite heartbreaking, and in the end rather heartwarming.
The Wrong Trousers is probably my favourite of this 'trilogy'. It's about Wallace's invention of a pair of 'Techno Trousers', and the welcoming of a dubious guest, a penguing named Feathers McGraw, to the household. McGraw's appearance was always a bit creepy to me as a child and still makes me feel a bit uneasy now, especially with regards to the character's secret guise as a diamond thief. Moreover, his gradual barging into his relationship with Wallace compels Gromit to tearfully move out. It's every bit as heartbreaking to watch as it was all those years ago.
The film has many a great scene, but the highlight for me has to be that final chase scene on a train--a toy train set that is. It's the exact sort of dynamic visual comedy mixed with vivid action that's employed by the likes of Edgar Wright and George Miller today for their own chase scenes. A scene like this would be impressive in any context, and when you think about how much time and effort had to be spent in the construction of the set, the use of different angles, the movements of each character along with their facial expressions (also the penguin's lack of one has always made him an even more chilling adversary in my opinion), it really makes you tremble with wonder.
A Close Shave sort of provides a culmination of all the fantastic work of Nick Park and Aardman Studios over the course of their shorts as it shows all the advancements in stop-motion animation with its larger scope, even more action setpieces, and multitudes of new characters including, yes, Shaun the Sheep.
The story this time round is of a less compact, more character-driven sort. It has Wallace initiating a sweet tentative romance with Wendolene (Anne Reid), a wool shopkeeper. This soon intertwines with the second, much sweeter and friendlier guest in the form of Shaun the Sheep, a machine called the Knit-o-Matic, and Wendolene's similarly anthropomorphic dog, Preston, who has something fiendish up his sleeves...
The short film is exquisitely structured in its short running time as not only a fun ride throughout with new characters and setpieces, but also a statement on the whole series of the relationship between Wallace and Gromit, as well as an introduction to the highly succesful Shaun the Sheep show.
Elvis and Nixon, starring Michael Shannon and Kevin Spacey as the two (in) famous American icons, is coming out soon, and though it might be a while till I get a chance to see it, I have to admit I'm very intrigued, especially by how their performances will pan out. Neither actor is a spitting image of the man they're imitating but both are also exceedingly talented, so I'll definitely be giving it a shot. For fun I thought it'd be cool to look at the various actors who've played Nixon over the years so I can see how Spacey matches up with them.
Note: I haven't seen Beau Bridges in Kissinger and Nixon (1995) yet.
Note: I would do an Elvis head-to-head, but I've only seen Kurt Russell (who was extremely good as Elvis) and Val Kilmer, kinda, in True Romance (who was also fairly spot-on), as well as Nicolas Cage in a way with his Elvis impersonation in Wild at Heart. I might do it in the near future.
5. John Cusack played Richard Nixon in The Butler (2013)
The Butler is not a very good attempt at sentimental Oscar-bait. I say attempt because it doesn't even fulfil the usual requirements of pining for an Oscar properly since it can never seem to decide whether it wants to be a serious look at the 34-year tenure of a White House butler Cecil Gaines (Forest Whitaker) against the backdrop of the race relations movement in America, or an insight into the White House environment and the various presidents, the film had to take one direction and stick to it, or be a better film overall. Unfortunately Lee Daniels (who directed the brilliant Precious so he's a good director let me make that clear) decides to throw everything in and see how it sticks together, and it really fails to achieve any sort of cohesion. There are moments, but it's mostly just a drawn-out, mundane affair that tries to be inspirational but ends up being sanctimonious.
The episodic nature of the film makes for some truly jarring transitions in terms of tone and the screenplay, with the characterization of Gaines' relationship with his son (David Oyelowo trying his very best) particularly poor and lacking any sort of clear arc. There's unnecessary diversions from the plot, and as for the various presidents in the White House, well I guess each make their mark though none in a terribly good way. The late, great Robin Williams and Alan Rickman are done great disservices by some awkward makeup as Presidents Eisenhower and Regan, Liev Schrieber is mildly amusing as Lyndon B. Johnson but also nothing special, James Marsden JFK bears not a single bit of resemblance to JFK but he's fairly charming in the role I guess.
What about Cusack? Well thankfully the makeup department didn't bother in this regard since Cusack looks absolutely nothing like Nixon and would never be able to be made up into anything vaguely resembling him. In terms of disappearing into the role Cusack doesn't bother, he does a sorta attempt at a Tricky Dick voice but it's fairly close to his own natural accent and voice, his mannerisms are not to heavily put on but enough to make his scenes feel like a bit of an SNL skit, without the laughs. I will grant that he's somewhat entertaining in the role, particularly in his first scene as Vice President where he rudely interacts with the White House staff by throwing them his election pins.
Still, this is a lacklustre effort by Cusack, an actor I generally really like when he tries in a role (I liked him a lot in Love & Mercy, Grosse Pointe Blank and especially Say Anything), and gets to use his strengths of boyish charm, and light comedy, unfortunately the film pigeonholes him with a poor caricature of Nixon who gets to do barely anything besides sneer and act like a bit of an arse.
2.5/5
4. Anthony Hopkins played Richard Nixon in Nixon (1995)
Nixon is another bombastic, over-the-top and (by all accounts) fairly liberal with the truth, Oliver Stone biopic concerning an American Preisdent, this time round Nixon. It's actually a finely made film in terms of production values, the editing is seamless, the cinematography is quite good, the script is fine and overall the over-the-top style of Oliver Stone does work for the film. What does bog it down a bit are most of the performances. Outside of James Woods, Sam Waterston and Joan Allen, everyone else overplays their cards a tad bit too loud and fail to create realistic-feeling characters, or even very engaging ones at all.
Reading about Stone's decision to cast Hopkins in the role is most curious. Stone's intent for the role as is clear by the use of makeup for Nixon, the ominous direction and soundtrack to most of his scenes, the way the script is designed to make him a monster with a few human qualities rather than the other way round, is that Nixon should be portrayed as a none-too-subtle, larger-than-life figure. The studio gave him two ideal choices, Tom Hanks and Jack Nicholson. Now I should say neither of these actors I'd have thought would make great choices, Hanks is always at his best when eschewing mannerisms and focusing on more emotional, subtle character work, Nicholson at that particular stage in his career would've probably been impossible to rein in and have turned in the most indulgent performance of his career, quite possibly. Gene Hackman was also considered for the role, who could've been great, as was Gary Oldman (likewise), though neither look anything like Nixon and also I don't think they'd have necessarily been a big fan of Stone's approach here. There was also considerations for Robin Williams (who I actually really like the idea of as his manic approach I presume, would be at the very least interesting to watch) and Tommy Lee Jones (who would've been a bit miscast I felt).
Instead, Stone went with Hopkins, based on his performances in The Remains of the Day and Shadowlands both from 1993. Now this is very bizzare to me since those two performances are, indeed, Hopkins' finest onscreen work (he's my #1 and #2 for that year for TROTD and Shadowlands respectively), but also two of his most subtlest, restrained performances as a repressed and proper butler, and the kindly, quiet and shy C.S. Lewis. Hopkins here shows nothing of the restraint of those performances, his performance as Nixon is loud ACTING to its fullest, everything he does from his postures while sitting, his facial expressions, his weird mouth movements, all feel not only very calculated but are also intensely distracting. Nixon was never as far as we can tell from the media, this odd a chap, and Hopkins' decision to play Tricky Dick as quite frankly, a Mad Hatter of sorts, makes his performance problematic in its very conception.
Nixon is a paranoid, constantly paranoid figure, addled even more by drug and alcohol abuse (questionable in its factual basis), who has trouble with social and political interaction. There's not a bit of charm to Nixon in his portrayal which frankly makes it unbelievable that Hopkin's Nixon would ever become a politician in any sort of capacity, let alone President of the United States. This Nixon feels like an idiot, which would work in a comedy (I'll get onto a performance that makes a stupid Nixon work in a bit), but here in a dead serious film it feels odd. I can't fault Hopkins too much as the way his scenes are written and directed mean that he has to go down this route, there really isnt any other way. The lunacy of Nixon is most palatably felt in scenes like the one below where he angrily berates his cabinet and asserts his power. Now Hopkins is actually entertaining to watch in these scenes, but he also lacks the nuance and subtle manipulation I'm sure Nixon did show in his private affairs, instead it's just a full-blown OTT portrayal of anger.
Hopkins has some scenes though where he's quite good actually. His reflections about his parents, portraying the isolation of the character, are all quite good, also despite lacking any romantic chemistry with his onscreen wife (Pat Nixon played by Joan Allen) they do share a certain sort of connection. He's also quite good in the scene below with Sam Waterston's CIA director Richard Helms where his mannered approach is actually quite well attuned to Waterstone's more subtle, at ease approach.
In the end this is a performance I can't quite hate since it is not an out-of-place performance in the scheme of the film, with the writing behind his Nixon there was no other way for Hopkins to play the man, and also it is Anthony Hopkins after all, a man whose talent always shines through, albeit in lesser extents in films like this. Hopkins had a fantastic string of performances in the 1990s which exemplified his apitutde as an actor, this is not one of them since it lacks the nuance and style which he gave to roles like Hannibal Lecter, and you know a performance in a biopic is deeply flawed when the actor could've stepped in as a cannibal serial killer and still in this character given a more restrained and subtle portrayal of a presidency. 2.5/5
3. Frank Langella played Richard Nixon in Frost/Nixon (2009)
Frost/Nixon is a fairly strong biopic. It's directed by Ron Howard who while lacking in cinematic flair, is usually quite good at this sort of film, he also directed the excellent racing biopic Rush and the engaging space travel/disaster film Apollo 13. This film is flawed in some regards that beat similarities to an earlier Howard biopic, A Beautiful Mind, in that despite its fascinating source material it takes a far too workmanlike approach that mutes the impact of it. Howard has kind of the opposite problem of Stone in that he tries to do to little as opposed to too much with his direction, although I certainly prefer Frost/Nixon overall. The film worked for me very well as an examination of the relationship onscreen and offscreen between a retired President Nixon and his interviewer, British television David Frost (an excellent Michael Sheen), as they engage in a battle of wits on a televised series of interviews. The rest of the film is slightly more lacklustre, the supporting cast is mostly quite solid although their characters are thinly drawn, and as I mentioned the lack of any sort of clear style to it means that the film is watchable on account of its source material and the central relationship.
Well what about it then, how is Langella's Nixon, which was already hyped prior to the release of this film. Frost/Nixon is based on a 2006 play by Peter Morgan and Langella here reprises the role he played onstage, which had received an abudance of critical acclaim for the veteran character actor. Now a trouble sometimes with stage performances transitioning to the silver screen is that they feel too 'stagey'. An example of this is Yul Brynner in The King & I, his approach feels a bit too overly 'audience-orientated' on the silver screen so that, even though he's not bad at all, he fails to make as much of an impact as he surely did in his onstage performance. Langella does not fall into this trap, in my opinion.
Langella is indeed quite overt and mannered in his portrayal of Nixon. These are not the usual sorts of Nixon mannerisms, and this is probably the point of most contention one will find in discussions of this performance. Some might find these mannerisms distracting, I personally thought they worked as they made Nixon a sufficiently paranoid and off-putting presence without being too overbearing as it was with Hopkins. It also helps that little to no makeup work is done to Langella, allowing him to give frankly a more natural performance than his predecessor Hopkins.
Langella imbues his Nixon with a certain sort of melancholy and sadness behind a frame of brute unfeeling emotional armour. This attempt to make Nixon more of a sympathetic figure in light of his impeachement and his more retiring state of being, does work because Langella is quite good at just portraying the more relaxed qualities of Nixon in many regards of life, at least when he's not in front of the cameras. Once in front of the cameras though Nixon becomes a different sort of figure, a more public one. I particularly love the little moment below where Langella slightly puts his interviewer Frost off-track by a little conversation before the interview, showing a false amicability and cheekiness to the man that is employed to attack his defences.
Langella and Michael Sheen work very well in their scenes together to generate a tension between the two characters that never really relents even in the supposedly more 'lighthearted' moments. Langella handles these scenes well by exuding the right amount of control in scenes where he's being friendly. There's also his 'loud' scenes where he loses that control and veers closer to the raving lunatic most films enjoy portraying him as. Now I will say there's moments where this gets a bit out of hand, not Nixon's yelling but rather Langella's yelling. They're not as effective as his quieter scenes because they come across as a bit forced at times, nevertheless Langella is never bad in these scenes, it's just not as good as the rest of his performance. There is the one scene, a drunken scene where he calls Frost and goes on a rant, that technically is a bit excessive again, but Langella makes it a great scene by his quieter approach towards the end of the conversation as a man truly regretful of what he has done. This is not a flawless performance, far from it as the BIG scenes verge on the hammy, but in his quieter moments and in the general creation of his character, and chemistry with Sheen, Langella does a very good job with Nixon that, unlike Hopkins, was deserving of an Oscar nomination, although he wouldn't even make my top 10 of the year.
4/5 2. Dan Hedaya played Richard Nixon in Dick (1999)
Dick is a very enjoyable film about two airheaded teens (played by a delightfully ditzy Michelle Williams and Kristen Dusnt), who strike up a friendship with Richard Nixon on a school trip and inadvertently uncover the Watergate scandal. The film is surprisingly fresh and original in its flair and energetic direction, bolstered with a funny if fairly predictable script, and the whole cast is energetic and pleasing from the lead actresses to the supporting players, including a young pre-Anchorman Will Ferrell doing his own take on Bob Woodward, Robert Redford's real-life character in All the President's Men.
Out of the whole cast though, the highlight is easily Hedaya. One thing Hedaya really has going for him here is that he's a spitting image of Nixon in real life. Even when watching his excellent, searing performance as a vengeful husband in Blood Simple or his roles in The Addams Family I couldn't help but think, my wouldn't he be awesome as Richard Nixon. This was only further exacerbated by watching him in a small role in Nixon (1995), where I kept thinking, Oliver Stone, look, there's your Nixon!! Anyway I digress. Hedaya has the advantage of looking like the chap himself, but if Morgan Freeman in Invictus is anything to go by, resemblance to the real-life figure does not always guarantee a great performance. Moreover, Hedaya has an added challenge here in that the film demands he play not an exact biographical depiction of Nixon, but rather a version of Nixon that fits in more with the comedic demands of the film. That being the Nixon in this version is written as a more bumbling than malevolent, he's not a nice chap but it's more of a fickle, none-too-bright sort of not-niceness than a mostly evil figure as Hopkins portrayed him. This is furthered by the film's somewhat worn-out use of Richard Nixon's nickname 'dick' for a frequent laugh that does get a bit worn out after a while.
Therefore Hedaya's challenge here is to make Nixon an amusing and somewhat endearing figure to laugh, without compromising the qualities that make Nixon such an impressionable figure in the public eye, and a villain so to speak to make the film's premise of 'airheaded teenage girls take down the President' work. Well suffice to say Hedaya is up to the task, and more. His performance is technically speaking very mannered, but the difference between him and Hopkins, and indeed Langella, is that these mannerisms are both not distracting, and are actually quite spot on imitations of Nixon's public image. It's rather brilliant, then, how Hedaya manages to use them to make Nixon, who up till this point and afterwards has almost always remained a pretty serious onscreen figure, extremely amusing.
The use of Nixon's distinctive guttural voice, and Hedaya's EXTREMELY emotive eyebrows to deliver, with utmost presidential conviction, ridiculous lines to his dog like 'Checkers - shut up. Or I'll feed you to the Chinese', offering the girls an opportunity to work as his dog walkers, and trying to bluff about Watergate to them, Hedaya is always going for laughs with his somewhat ridiculous approach, and it works, completely. Now technically speaking this Nixon is every bit as reprehensible, even more so, than the previous Nixons in terms of his actions, Hedaya makes the various behaviours and actions of Nixon so darned funny and thus, somewhat lovable in just how inept he is most of the time. The intent of these scenes might be questionable in a historical context but I really don't care, they're funny and that's all that matters.
As the film progresses, the film focuses more on the investigation by the girls and the reporters Woodward and Bernstein of the Washington Post. Nixon is however, not one to be pushed into the background, especially in Hedaya's hands. He has several hilarious scenes like his marijuana-laced conversations with Leonid Brezhnev to lead to the end of the Vietnam war, and whenever he gets really, really angry or even better, anxious about the press finding out about not only Watergate, but Arlene's (Michelle Williams) infatuation with him. Now this latter element I wouldn't buy if it had been any other Nixon, after all Hopkins' was too grotesque, Hall's too drunken and extreme, Langella's too much of a downer, and Cusack would've just been mistaken as Lloyd Dobler visits the White House!! But the fact that Hedaya makes this work is testament to the strength of his comedic performance here. He's extremely funny as the Nixon we all love to mock and chuckle at, but also manages to incredulously make him a somewhat sweet, sympathetic character by the film's conclusion, which all in all is fairly remarkable since the film doesn't really excuse anything he does. 4.5/5 1. Philip Baker Hall played Richard Nixon in Secret Honor (1984)
Secret Honor is an interesting enough film, lacking in a certain cinematic style which can be easily forgiven as it's filmed in more of a theatrical way, essentially presenting a real-time depiction of Richard Nixon in office. A one-man show of the most distinct sort, which is an interesting variation on the usual Robert Altman films I've seen like Nashville and Gosford Park where a large ensemble and expansive focus is given to the films, here the film's focus is one performance and one performance only, and to say Altman tones down his usual directorial flourishes is putting it lightly.
As you can see, this film is all centered on Hall's performance, and thus the film's effectiveness starts and ends with him. This puts an incredible challenge him, more so than Langella who had Michael Sheen to fall upon in his lesser moments, and Hopkins who had Stone's direction and a script that fit his performance to rely upon. Well Hall's an always capable actor, he was fantastic in Magnolia and pretty good in Hard Eight, I haven't seen all that much of him but enough to be fully confident that his performance in this was going to be at the very least interesting, and indeed he does not disappoint. Once onscreen Hall is very well set as Nixon, and he's not made up at all to look like him, nor does he really attempt to do the usual Nixon mannerisms. This does make sense for the film as we are watching Nixon in private, thereby allowing Hall to give his own interpretation of how he think Nixon would act in the confines of his office in the White House.
I guess one could say this whole performance is a bit of a constant ramble, Hall never stops talking, talking to himself for the whole performance, whether it's blaring into a microphone or getting drunk and raving. This is a performance that technically follows many of the same beats as Hopkins' performance, but where Hopkins depicted them as the actions of some groteque creature even in the public eye, even in the confinements of his own personal space Hall does not turn the man into a monster but reveals the monsters within the man. Hall somehow, despite being given a role prime for showboating, resists the urge to ever chew the scenery with OTT ACTING even though being the only one in the room, there's a lot of it to chew on. This is not a subtle performance by any means, but somehow Hall manages to find a way to make the extreme antics of Nixon fused with the realistic actions of a man contemplating his growing madness and potential suicide.
There's a lot of material for Hall to get through as Nixon ruminates about his life and career, and gradually escaltes each and every monologue into an increasing rage, starting from a repressed sort of dignity and ending his performance with a very loud series of 'fuck you's' to the audience. Hall rather excellently builds up this intensity, better than Langella considerably I'd say who had a tendency to suddenly erupt into anger without making much sense about where his character was coming from. This is a performance that has a great deal of power in its implications. Like Langella's Nixon, we never see the actual events that lead to his downfall but both performances give an effective sense of the history of Nixon, and the whole progression of it towards this moment in time, in a far better fashion than Cusack or Hopkins. Now Hall goes a step further by also leading us further into the man's mind by making each of these implied points in Nixon's life flow together seamlessly with the topsy turvy moods of Nixon.
It's so impressive how Hall manages to achieve this by himself since the film's visual style doesn't really do all that much to aid this performance, in this regard he's much more at a disadvantage than other one-man shows of sorts like Tom Hardy in Locke, Robert Redford in All is Lost, Tom Hanks in Cast Away, Sandra Bullock in Gravity, Bruce Dern in Silent Running, and James Franco in 127 Hours. All these performances had directors utilizing a certain style, to an extent a stronger script (the one of Secret Honor does feel a bit reptitive in contrast to the brilliant one of Locke), also Hall never really gets a quiet moment like Redford, and Hanks to allow for some momentary pause in his performance, and in Hardy and Bullock's cases, pretty effective brief 'cameo' voices, to guide them along. Hall has only himself and that he remains so compelling throughout is just marvelous, since he has no one else to rely upon if he fails. I would not quite call it my favourite one-man show performance (I will probably do a future blog post on it but as a little spoiler my favourite one-man show is easily an actor I've perhaps over-written about on this blog and have no shame in doing so), but it certainly is the one with the biggest challenge, and while I don't love the film, I do love Hall's performance in it.
If I had to surmise the talents of Billy Wilder into a phrase, 'jack of all trades' quite nicely covers it, in several different uses of the word. He not only wrote/directed pretty much all of his films, exuding complete creative control over all of them, he also delved into so many different and unique genres. I was planning to do a little ranking for his birthday but thought, it's difficult to try and explain my ranking of his films as there's so many of them I love just about equally (though my top two are quite easily ahead of the pack). So I thought, why not take a brief look at my personal favourites of his filmography; starting with the 1940's.
As good a place as any to look at is his early career to find where the sheer brilliance of Wilder began. Now Wilder was before starting his career as a director a rather excellent and renowned screenwriter already. He wrote the likes of Ninotchka, and Ball of Fire, both of which are considered to be among the greatest comedies of all-time. I love both these films but I won't get into them too much since, though they have distinctive trademarks of Wilder in both of them (well-written female characters and hilarious setpieces in the former, a marvelous Barbara Stanwyck and some hilarious side characters of both the brawny and brainy variety in the latter), they're not completely Billy Wilder works, and a lot of credit to their respective succeses must also go to the directors of them, the wonderful Ernst Lubitsch and Howard Hawks.
I digress. Wilder's run in the 1940's was at a point he hadn't quite reached his peak as a director yet. Well, not to worry, because a yet-fully-formed-Wilder was still an immense talent. Of some of his lesser known works during this period, I particularly have a fond spot for Five Graves to Cairo, a thrilling war film set in a hotel, a kinda precursor to the one-setting scenario of Stalag 17 in blending a palatable sense of tension and humour to the exploits of Corporal John Bramble (an excellent straight man performance by Franchot Tone) to outwit the Nazis at the hotel. The film is perhaps a bit more clearly commercialized than some of Wilder's other works and is not an extremely complex character piece, but is still very enjoyable to watch.
The Lost Weekend, about a weekend spent by writer Don Birnam (Ray Milland) fighting alcoholism and his demons, garnered Wilder his first Best Director Oscar, and his leading man Milland a Best Actor gong. Both were extremely well-deserved; Wilder's creation of a claustraphobic atmosphere of decadent obsession and paranoia is excellent as well as his handling of the more tender romantic moments, and Milland's performance is a fantastic example of a showcase performance working to perfection. At such an early junction in his career, where he dabbled with anything from fun thrillers like Five Graves to Cairo to light comedies like A Foreign Affair, Wilder displayed his depth and dexterity as a filmmaker with this unsparing tale of addiction that's been aped and copied so many times since. Thin Nicolas Cage was haunting in Leaving Las Vegas? I love that performance too, but here you get the sort of deal that started it all.
The film is a haunting and actually not at all dated look into alcoholism. It's greatest strengths lie in its 'small' moments; watching the early hints of Don's alcoholism in the flashbacks as he holds his drink a little tighter, sneaks a few casual pints in his jacket. It's remarkable to see such a subtle depiction of a tough subject matter in a time where censorship was ramped up to the maximum, and Wilder managed to avoid them by treating his material not in a gratuitously graphic fashion, but with hints and implications through the film and Milland's great performance.
It's Double Indemnity,, released a year earlier than The Lost Weekend, however, which truly signifies to me just how brilliant Wilder was already at this point. This great filmtells the tale of insurance salesman Walter Neff (an excellent Fred MacMurray) falling head over heels for the no-good, sensual housewife Phyllis Dietrichson, played by Barbara Stanwyck. The two soon become embroiled in a murderous plot to off Dietrichson's supposedly no-good husband, and all starts to fall apart from there, largely due to the efforts of the brilliant claims adjuster Barton Keyes, played by Edward G. Robinson, quite possibly the biggest G in film history.
Just look at this opening credits. Sets the tone so perfectly, foreshadowing a specific plot element, atmospheric score, you know what you're in for from the very start.
I have to single out Stanwyck's work first. She doesn't just play the femme fatale to perfection, she DEFINES the role with her biting, incisive, darkly humorous and even at the very end, somewhat moving, performance as one of the coldest, most despicable villains ever to grace the silver screen. Stanwyck never took on a role as cold and unsympathetic as this before or after this performance; she was usualyl cast as either a screwball queen of comedy or a sympathetic, emotionally poignant dramatic protagonist, though she was excellent at both and routinely proved to me why she's one of my all-time favourite actresses. The funny thing is Dietrichson employs some of the aspects of her earlier work in the likes of The Lady Eve and Ball of Fire to add to her charm and allure, as well as some of the depths of her work in Stella Dallas, for example, to power the false 'sympathy' we are supposed to feel for her character. This is a performance I could go on, and on, and on about.
The relationship between Neff and Dietrichson is astutely turned into one of the great onscreen pairings, though not in the usual way of 'oh they're so right for each other'. Neff and Dietrichson bring out the worst in each other, and it's compelling to see the smitten pawn of Neff wander into the various traps laid by Dietrichson. The script, written by Billy Wilder and (gasp) one of my favourite authors Raymond Chandler is pitch-perfect, especially in terms of its crackling dialogue that never relents in its back-and-forth momentum. I would say this is the best ever Raymond Chandler film and it's not even based on a Raymond Chandler novel (it's adapted from a James M. Cain book). It perfectly captures his precise sort of style and also his nihilistic approach to morality, with a few glimpses of humanity here and there, only this time round the righteous hero we root for is not our protagonist a la Philip Marlowe but someone else entirely.
It never moralizes and keeps making the devious plans of our lead duo so unapologetically cold, but delivers their lines in an almost screwball, fast-paced fashion that creates quite the disconcerting effect. MacMurray and Stanwyck do have chemistry (they went on to work a few more times I think), and there is a spark to their discourses, but it's all played for the grand purpose of at its lightest, black comedy, and at its darkest, pure vehemence.
Dietrihson uses everyone as a tool, a means to an end until the very end when it all comes to bite her in the back in one breathtakingly well-acted scene in which Phyllis gets her comeuppance. All through the film Wilder's direction follows excellently in suit to the tone of these scenes as he creates such a haunting mood to each of these scenes where we feel Neff being pulled into the devil's grasp. MacMurray is fantastic in these scenes by playing a schmuck who's brought against his better judgement by luck. It's not till the very end (I'm not going to enclose a clip of THAT scene here, I feel watching it in the film for the first time gives you so much more of a viscreal jolt) that he finally gains some autonomy and does the right thing, though all too late.
One thing about the film I love is the use of shadows and lighting. MacMurray is always lighted up clearly and distinctively in his scenes with Keyes, while in scenes with Stanwyck there's a darkness or unfocused lighting which makes him more of a brooding, less appealing figure. This is particularly felt in the train scene where he's doing Dietrichson's dirty deeds. Good ol' wholesome Fred MacMurray becomes in these scenes a completely different person. With his hat drawn down, crutches ominously perched on either side and head held low, his lumbering movement is more remniscient of a Hammer Horror monster than the likable Average Joe from earlier.
Stanwyck, as can be seen in the scene below, can't help but be dark, sneaky and disruptive even in a scene where she's in hiding, trying to avoid Keyes. She's so far off the wrong end that she practically exudes darkness in every scene she's in, which is amplified by Stanwyck's performance.
Which brings me to Keyes.
Keyes, not Neff, is the true hero of the story. He's the Philip Marlowe of this tale, though he's far more open, friendly and amicable than Chandler's most famous creation. Wilder directs scenes with Robinson as Keyes in them with decidedly more vibrant energy and lighting, which fits perfectly with Robinson's portrayal of the man as a ball of constant vigilance and quick-thinking. Keyes too is shaded with hints of darkness, but where that represented the duplicity of Stanywck here Robinson employs it to make Keyes a playfully mysterious figure in many regards. He comes in and out of the plot and has a seemingly limitless, almost inhuman amount of smarts.
Robinson is a true scene-stealer in a great film, which is the sort of role which always has the potential to infringe upon a film's greatness but here only amplifies it. Robinson is a joy to watch as Keyes whether he's debating with his 'little man' or intuition inside of him or incisively biting into attempted fraudsters, or striking up a rather beautiful friendship with Neff that's the one bright spot in the film's darkness. Keyes always seems like he's just about to crack the case with each of his monologues, making the ending of the film all the more powerful when he finds out his good friend was behind it all.
It's a great part of a great film and essentially summarises just how accomplished Wilder was as a director in garnering great performances out of actors (this is easily the strongest trio of all his films) as well as creating such a claustraphobic and tense atmosphere while having a lot of fun with it. Wilder had yet to give his best work, but this remains a fantastic film that most filmmakers would die to have as their singular grandstanding career achievement, rather than just being another excellent notch on the post like it was for Wilder.
Upon re-watches of Django Unchained, I've come to appreciate the film more and more, flaws and all. I still think the third act could've had a bit of re-scripting done and have some editing work to boot, but little nitpicks aside I've come to admire it as one of QT's most solid films. It's funny, moving and in the action scenes packs quite the scintillating punch in the likes of scenes like this:
Anyway, what I want to write briefly about today is how after re-re-watches I've grown to appreciate the performances of the film all the more. Christoph Waltz's brilliant portrayal of Dr King Schultz has always been beloved by me. But I've come round to Jamie Foxx's quietly assertive, Charles Bronson-esque badass hero as also extremely impressive in his own right, exuding the perfect blend of threat and menace, and endearing camaraderie with Schultz, in his portrayal. The supporting players, from Walton Goggins showing hints of his future brilliance in The Hateful Eight and Don Johnson's entertainingly uncouth Big Daddy, are all solid.
One element of the film that certainly grows for me all the more the more times I watch the film though is the pairing of frequent Tarantino collaborator Samuel L. Jackson and perhaps the biggest movie star in the world, Leonardo DiCaprio. It's an unlikely pairing that had the direction or performances been off, could've smelt of stunt casting for the sake of box office profits, but it works due to several factors. One, they're both at the top of their game here, with great characters to work with. Two, their approaches to their respective characters are incredibly unique, and against their usual types in quite a daring fashion.
I'll start with DiCaprio. I mentioned in my previous post on the art of Kevin Spacey that DiCaprio is one of those actors I much prefer when he relaxes a bit into a role. I'm quite the fan generally but he does have a couple of performances which fall into a bit to the 'try-hard' category like The Aviator, Shutter Island, J. Edgar. He's never bad in these performances but just always seems a bit too pent up, almost denying his strengths as an actor by taking aan overly mannered, excessively morose approach to his roles. In short DiCaprio's at his best at an actor when he lives up his roles like his parties and lovelife; with fun, vigour and dynamic energy that works so beautifully in the likes of The Wolf of Wall Street, Catch Me If You Can and his performance here as mandingo owner and Francophile Calvin Candie.
I've read behind the scenes about how DiCaprio was understandably uncomfortable about taking on the role in the first place and throughout the shoot repeatedly had to force himself through takes to continue playing the vile, reprehensible man Candie is presented as. Well kudos to him none of this comes across in his performance. DiCaprio's performance deliciously digs into the hammy, OTT evil nature of Candie with not a smidgeon of restraint. Candie is a character that relishes in just being the most heinous bastard whether it be explaining the supposed scientific background of African American inferiority or insisting that Schultz shake his hand.
DiCaprio is so beautifully hateful and what's most remarkable about his work here is that even in his most despicable moments, wiping bloodied hands across women's faces and callously ordering death by throngs of dogs, the disturbing amount of fun Candie has in being evil never relents, keeping his fury contained within the particular style and manner of a stereotypical southern gent, and intertwines this with the dramatic intensity he gives the role with aplomb. Having seen so many failed examples of shouty villain roles in recent years, good actors like Eddie Redmayne and great ones like Guy Pearce being particularly egregious culprits, it's refreshing to see someone nail the fine, Gary Oldman-Raul Julia refined art of yelling and hamming it up on screen.
Then there's Jackson, playing not a badass scary motherfucker as was the case with his last two substantial ventures with Tarantino, and the one thereafter this, but instead takes a bit of a backseat at first as house slave Stephen. Jackson is an underrated actor in terms of his versitality which is on full display here, as he shows that he's just as entertaining to watch as a wimpy, comical, angry hobbled slave as he is in any one of his BAMF roles. Now I have to talk about Jackson and DiCaprio's chemistry here as it's extremely watchable despite the reprehensible natures of both characters. They have a certain sort of warmth and connection between the two and most importantly are hilarious whenever they interact in their master-servant dynamic, and intriguing when the tables are turned and both characters reveal darker shades of depth. More about that in a bit.
Jackson is brilliant in Django Unchained by subtly laying the seeds of his characterization with what is effectively a caricature of the Uncle Tom figure of the willingly subservient black house slave, His over the top fussy manner and tics are just so uproariously entertaining as he makes Stephen into just the most pathetic, toadying presence and sets him up to be the comic highlight of the film. To Jackson's credit this particular stereotype of the house slave is well-handled by not being to an extent offensive, but entertainingly so since Stephen is clearly a bit of a cartoonish figure, and thus Jackson's overacting as the absurd and rather lowly, pathetic figure Stephen presents himself as.
Jackson is particularly good in the scenes where he stands next to Calvin at the dinner table and watching him in a battle of wits with Waltz's Schultz. DiCaprio as aforementioned is extremely watchable as the idiotic Southern gent who talks a great deal of crap, and Jackson is even more hilarious in his reactions, laughing along with his jokes in such a subservient manner. Take the above scene. Waltz and DiCaprio are great at having a bit of banter in this scene, each delivering their lines with such delicious aplomb, but for me the highlight is Stephen's exaggerated laughter at the end of Candie's Boston joke. It's an excellent depiction of a truly depraved mindset of subservience.
What's brilliant about Jackson's portrayal in these scenes though is how they play into the greater purpose of Stephen as a character, first seen in the scene where he questions Broomhilda (Kerry Washington) about what he has deduced as a previous relationship between her and Foxx's Django.
Jackson's incisive approach is marvelous here as it sets up Stephen as the true villain of the film. He was intimidating in Pulp Fiction and The Hateful Eight for sure, but those character's forms of intimidation had a certain sort of charm and humour to it; with Stephen, funnily enough, when the menace comes all humour and affability is dropped, and it makes perfect sense. The toady routine is but a visage; the real being lying underneath it is a man of true intelligence and cunning. Stephen is quite possibly Tarantino's most intelligent villain, a master strategist, after all the Reservoir Dogs messed up, Marsellus Wallace ended up on the wrong end of a plan, Ordell Robbie overtrusted Jackie, Bill got Killed because of his innate humanity, Death Proof was just a mistake overall, Hans Landa made one massively poor decision that put him at the mercy of the Basterds, and the villains of The Hateful Eight don't achieve anything in the end. Stephen, however, is the most capable and intelligent of all of Tarantino's antagonists because he maintains a convenient facade and undeneath it shows a mind always at work and in control of the situation. The film reaches a happy conclusion only because of the ineptitude of some Australian slavers, but Stephen himself is the pitch-perfect depiction of a master player of the game of slaves.
Whether their meant to be funny or scary, DiCaprio and Jackson are just so wonderful here in Django Unchained that I feel bad for ever underrating their performances. They're not quite my win for 2012 Supporting (but that is a PACKED year, just look at my lineup below*), nor are they my favourite of Tarantino's villains (Hans Landa will always have that spot), but these two give fantastic performances that definitely should have been nominated for Oscars. DiCaprio and Jackson give pitch-perfect representations of how to go over-the-top with style and substance.
* 1. Christopher Walken, Seven Psychoapths 2. Samuel L. Jackson, Django Unchained 3. Leonardo DiCaprio, Django Unchained 4. Dwight Henry, Beasts of the Southern Wild 5. Javier Bardem, Skyfall
6. Ben Whishaw, Cloud Atlas
7. Sam Rockwell, Seven Psychopaths
8. Woody Harrelson, Seven Psychopaths
9. James Spader, Lincoln
10. Jim Broadbent, Cloud Atlas
