July 27, 2010

As Himself


We've discussed Mel Gibson going crazy at his lady. Well, in his next film he plays a man who is crazy for his beaver. Oh my.

Sometimes actors often seem to play themselves on screen. Some have even played themselves. And a few have even been awesome at it. And here they are:


Top 5 Self-Portrayals

#5 

I'm a big fan. Doogie Howser, Starship Troopers, How I Met Your Mother, or Doctor Horrible's Sing-a-long Blog – you name it, I dig it. In the smartest stoner movies you're likely to see, Harris' parody of child star celebs hits all the key points: drug-fueled and violent sex-crazed maniac. This wild NPH - beloved by frat boys the world over - is a drastic contrast to Harris' real life persona – beloved by gays and girls the world over - as the openly gay actor/singer who hosted the Tony Awards in 2009 and recently appeared in an Aerosmith sing-off in Glee. Harris' biggest real-life scandal involved his critical comments on stunt-casting Britney Spears on HIMYM. (He said the show was better than this gimmick – he was right.) 

Ultimately, for his willingness to make a world class ass of himself, NPH gets my #5 spot.


#4 



For those of you not in love with Classic Hollywood and the cinema therein, let me tell you a little something about Dean Martin. Martin was a world renowned singer and comedian. He was high class and all-around sexy man, known for his fervent taste for and love of women and alcohol. And in Billy Wilder's sex comedy, he apes both for laughs. In Kiss Me, Stupid, Martin plays "Dino," a heavy-drinking celebrity singer headed to LA, who is stuck in Climax, Nevada while his car is being repaired. 

The plot revolves around an aspiring song writer who wants to sell songs to Dino without losing his wife to the drunkard Lothario. A Shakespearean ruse of wife-swapping is employed and hilarity and sexcapades ensue. 

Often playing a lover (That's My Boy) or a drunk (Rio Bravo), Martin's roles seem to have an Ourobos effect on his persona. But in Kiss Me, Stupid Martin is flat-out playing a caricature of himself. Give him a bottle of wine and a blonde and you'll have him happy. He's a cad in Kiss Me, and it makes for a meta good time.


Top 3 after the jump!




#3  

    
JCVD got a lot of nerd boy buzz - and with just cause. I've never been much for beefy brawny action heroes (I'd take Ford over Schwarzenegger any day) – but JCVD held my interest anyway. The film starts off with a KABOOM action sequence, then Van Damme blows a gag and the action screeches to a halt. A winded over-the-hill action star approaches a smug 20-something director and pleads for shorter takes as he isn't the man he used to be - and is flat-out ignored. Ouch.
The life of Van Damme is one of grueling film shoots that batter his aging body and fighting for these low-rent roles against other aging "stars" like Stephen Seagal. So when he enters a bank and its alarm sharply goes off – the people outside assume the has-been hero has turned bank robber. So goes the first five minutes of JCVD. But it's so much more than a heist gone wrong flick. Here, Van Damme plays a movie star hero who is expected to be the real thing in a life threatening hostage situation. It's a fun and engaging heist movie, but JCVD garnered much of its attention for one scene in particular– the soliloquy. 


Here Van Damme breaks the fourth wall rising physically above the set to deliver a Shakespearean examination of his own life– speaking directly to all of us out there watching in the dark. 

Direct address is hardly not a new device. It's uncommon but has been a part of film as early as 1940's Dance, Girl, Dance – where a objectified ballet dancer scorns her diagetic audience as well as those of us watching the screen. In both of Michael Haneke's Funny Games (1997 and 2007), the killers taunt the audience for our presupposed joy in watching torture and murder. And in Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986), direct address is used to make the audience part of the gang. We're Ferris's friends as he chats to us about "isms" and allows us into his inner monologue and his shower. But in JCVD Van Damme doesn't damn or taunt us or laugh with us. He lets us in. 

Van Damme breaks through the tough guy façade and reveals what's beneath – a man who's ashamed of his life. He says we made him famous – and what did he do for us? He unveils his guilt and shame, but not as spectacle. It's a bare bones moment. The cinematography is a simple long take. The set is abandoned for the light kit rig hanging above. It's raw visually and emotionally. For the film this self-examination serves at the "darkest night of the soul" moment of the plot – but it accomplishes much more. It'll stick to you like peanut butter and will change the way your perception of the Muscle from Brussels. 

I was going to post a link to the speech but don't cheat it. Watch all of JCVD. It's gritty and tense with a strong emotional core. Here's a taste:



#2 


    This mind-mending mind-traveling dark comedy follows pathetic puppeteer Craig Schwartz (John Cusack) on his quest to win the object of his obsession, Maxine, a film fatale attracted to power. Schwartz fails to win her heart or notice until he discovers a worm hole that puts him square in the cerebellum of quirky actor John Malkovich. Soon the two turn Malkovich's brain into work and play as they rent it for profit and Craig takes it over for seduction. Malkovich soon feels the puppet master pulling his strings and the showdown for control of his mind ensues! 

Malkovich plays himself as reserved humble artist/actor, as a man under the control of a nerd, a bi-curious housewife and a stodgy aristocrat. The film depends on Malkovich's willingness to play himself and play with his persona. He does both with a keen perception of how the world sees him. My favorite moment includes when a cabbie commends him on his role as a cop, and he replies he's never played one.

On a personal note, I once saw Malkovich on a subway in New York. He was a small man wearing baggy purple sweatpants keeping to himself. I only noticed him when a man crossed the train to get to him and said in an antsy but quiet voice, "I just wanted to say I am such a fan of your work." Malkovich mumbled a thank you as the above scene played through my head. I giggled and missed my chance at telling him I loved him as a convict. It's really probably for the best.


#1 


I've talked before about Cold Souls, one of my favorites of 2009, and Giamatti's self-mocking portrayal is a big part of it. Like Malkovich, Giamatti is a character actor and occasional quirky lead.  But where Malkovich took us into the weird worlds within his own mind – but Giamatti showed us his chickpea shaped soul. 
He starts as a beleaguered actor worn down by the weight of his tortured artist soul, and  allows us to laugh as he makes himself a cliché. Then we watch him as he tries life soulless and his Uncle Vanya comes out looking like mad cow Shatner! Then with the soul of a Russian mother, Giamatti is soft and soul-breaking. And finally as he chases down his errant soul, he is compelling as a desperate man literally soul-searching.
So yeah, heartbreaking, mind-bending and gut-busting – Giamatti's got it all.




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Honorable Mentions: 



Bruce Cambell for My Name is Bruce (2007). Cambell produced and directed this B-movie about his own cult status and battling real monsters, and it is a goofy good time. It's like JCVD meets The Evil Dead.




Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon in Tristam Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story (2005). In this esoteric British comedy, Coogan is a self-involved actor convinced this film within a film will be his big break, while Brydon is the happy go lucky sidekick. Both are hilarious and willing to play the fool, but as it's the first film I saw either in so I felt like I was missing out on the joke. Still, a fun and quirky comedy. 


TTFN. 

~Movie Nerd Girl