Showing posts with label actressexuality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label actressexuality. Show all posts

Sunday, January 17, 2010

Supporting Actress Blog-A-Thon, Class of 2009: Leslie Mann in 17 Again and Funny People

I'm going to be honest with you right from the start: I don't like either of the films that are listed in the title. 17 Again is a rotten example of the complete lack of invention in both comedies and teen films Hollywood shows these days, and, while I'll give Funny People credit for making an effort, it just didn't come off very well. The actress I'm going to talk about is a bit trapped in the system, really, what with being married to the director of many of the wave of 'bromance' comedies that dominated the second half of the 2000s, but, nepotism or not, Leslie Mann has slowly been becoming more and more of a shining light in Hollywood. And she was the silver lining in these two films.

Scarlett O'Donnell in 17 Again and Laura in Funny People

As almost the only adult female of any depth in either film - as already noted, Judd Apatow films are dominated by men - Miss Mann (no jokes please) is saddled with more dramatic arcs than any comedic moments, although this is by no means supposed to suggest that she isn't funny. Her understably confused attraction to Mike (Zac Efron), her ex-husband back in younger form (although of course she doesn't know that), takes on a more dramatic bent but the first moments of it are pure comedy, and well played by Mann. It's very cartoonish - Efron's face is surprisingly doughy - but as ever with Mann, there's more to this. She's transfixed by him, as if some part of her brain registers that this IS her ex-husband, though of course common sense can't let her admit that. Her line readings are slowed, as if her brain is too busy trying to figure out what's going on to let her speak properly. "You wait here, I'm gonna go smell him," she says to her friend, her matter-of-fact pointing emphasizing how she currently finds that a completely normal thing to do. Scarlett is the audience surrogate - the stable character who has to make sense of being thrown the same person in two different forms. She is the heart of a movie that's rotten on the outside with idiotic comedy and lame slapstick, but there's her light flickering at the centre.

In Funny People, she's again positioned as one of the film's more dramatic parts, and, while her most notable 'comic' moment (aping Eric Bana's Australian accent) doesn't work at all, it's another of her scenes that's stuck in my head. George (Adam Sandler), her childhood sweetheart, has come back into her life and confessed his love for her - and Laura's reaction is heartbreaking. It's a moment that feels genuinely sad after all of George's rather pitiful gloom and askings of people to kill him. She doesn't lie, like you might expect her to; she freely, tearfully admits that yes, she still loves him, and yes, he fucked it up and now she's married and she can't do anything about it. (And she doesn't care, ultimately.) Her antagonistic - but complicated - relationship with her husband (Bana) is the most deeply felt and real aspect to an otherwise bloated movie, and, previously mentioned accent-shenanigans aside, the pair work in tandem to provide both believable family drama and comic lightness.

Leslie Mann is the star of neither 17 Again or Funny People, but she makes herself the star, and not through any selfish scene-hogging. She's a generous actress, a real member of any ensemble she finds herself in, yet by her very nature she marks herself out, by her warmth, her comedic skills, and her empathy. She received notice back in 2007 for Knocked Up, but she knocked her game up even more notches in 2009 and I hope she is given more chances to impress - maybe even gets a vehicle of her own.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Treading Gingerly

It's perhaps fitting that when I eventually saw Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers' final film together, The Barkleys of Broadway, it was separated from my viewings of their previous films by at least two years, since in a vague way that apes the ten-year gap there was between 1939's The Story of Vernon and Irene Castle and this final pairing, which occured when Judy Garland (who had already partnered Astaire in Easter Parade) had to drop out (though she apparently showed up on set repeatedly to make things difficult for Rogers). It's somehow not really a surprise that this is one of the weakest offerings from the legendary partnership- the most magical moment comes in a retread of Shall We Dance's 'They Can't Take That Away From Me', where everyone involved seems to acknowledge that Barkleys is a film clutching hopelessly to an unreachable past. There is no new ground to tread here, simply a brief reunion of faded magic.

I'm always someone who's been far more interested in actresses than actors, and even if Fred Astaire is a rather brilliant man, I'm concerned about the treatment of Ginger Rogers in these movies. The plot of The Barkleys of Broadway is, rather obviously, referencing the desire Ginger had to be a 'serious actress', which one suspects is partly what lead to the break-up of their partnership at the end of 1930s. The cycle of their movies in the 1930s sees a gradual move towards more equality in the partnership, and with that more weight, more drama in the romantic plotlines. Swing Time marked the first time their love wasn't sealed with a romantic dance- 'Waltz in Swing Time' ends with Ginger spinning off and Fred gesturing sadly after her, and the reunion is instead sealed afterwards, proving Ginger can no longer be so easily won. As the partnership wound down, The Story of Vernon and Irene Castle had them already married, already stable, already equal.

Ginger doubtful; Ginger convinced

The Barkleys of Broadway, though, undoes the good work that the previous film did in sending Astaire and Rogers off in a pleasant fashion. For whatever reason, Ginger seems all too happy to mock her former serious self, and finally to accept the idea that Astaire really is her "Svengali". She is the one who has to be dragged onto the stage for the estranged pairing's reunion dance at a charity event- and is visually convinced during said dance to 'They Can't Take That Away From Me', even if she still leaves afterward. It is still Ginger who must realise her mistake and come back to Astaire, back to musical comedy, and leave her own aspirations behind, by convincing herself that those no longer are her aspirations. She cannot even be an actress without her "Svengali"- who pretends to be her French director (Jacques Francois) in order to boost her confidence and perform well.

In essence, during The Barkleys of Broadway, Ginger comes to believe that she is nothing without Fred, that it is to him she owes her career. While it's true that her post-Fred career never really took off, despite winning the Oscar for Kitty Foyle in 1940, is it not a bit much to say that Fred could have stood without Ginger? Who can say if he would have become the star he did without Ginger as his partner? There's no question he was the better dancer, but would their films have been as good an escape from the Great Depression if Ginger hadn't been there as a tough cookie counterpart, a twirling dervish of a dress-wearer? Astaire stayed where he knew he could succeed. But Ginger tried. Trying to be a 'serious' actress isn't necessarily better than being a dancer or a comedienne, but she stretched her legs, she ventured into the unknown, she had a go. And it's a shame she's not more celebrated for it.

Thursday, April 09, 2009

Whatever Became Of Christina Ricci?

I've no idea if anyone even gives a damn about poor Christina Ricci's career any more, but she's been on my mind recently because Black Snake Moan is part of my not-as-epic-as-it-should-be 'evolution of the Southern heroine' essay. So as I was kinda-working-but-kinda-not and wandered onto her IMDb profile, I came across this piece of news.

"I am thinking Christina Ricci got the better deal here," writes Brad Brevet. Well, compared to poor, continually undervalued Maria Bello, that seems to be true (Maria being married to Kevin James is on an Embeth Davidtz being married to Anthony Hopkins level of absurdity), but it's a sad day when Christina Ricci has to settle for an Adam Sandler porn comedy. Indeed, Ricci's career seems to have got lost somewhere- her only films of note (let's not mention Anything Else, shall we?) in the '00s have been Monster, in which she was quite terrible; Speed Racer, in which she had fuck all to do; and Black Snake Moan. The latter of which is easily the best role she's had since her finest one to date in Don Roos' acidic comedy The Opposite of Sex back in 1998. And what else is she known for beyond the obvious Wednesday Addams? I'd wager that gothic little girl remains the thing most people know her for.

It probably doesn't help that she doesn't seem to have grown up. She may play an intensely sexual nymphomaniac (I'm guessing nymphomaniacs generally are intensely sexual) in Black Snake Moan, but once Samuel L. Jackson has chained and tamed her she's back to her incredibly tiny girlishness in a flowery dress and she could be back in 1995. And now she, devoid of box office clout (not that she ever had it in the first place), is stuck with the 'supportive girlfriend' parts like Speed Racer or this porn comedy, Born to be a Star. Her other upcoming projects don't seem any more promising:
She seems to have two 'personas' that the industry, at least, views her as being interesting as: the dangerously sexual, manipulative young woman, or the horrifying, pale-faced 'other'. Her bug-eyes may remind of Bette Davis but do parts like those Bette played even exist any more? Is there room for an 'unconventional' beauty in Hollywood today? Ricci is too small to be intimidating, seemingly too oddball for the mainstream. And yet that seems to be what she's continuing to chase. She may have thrown a more challenging part like Black Snake Moan in there, but that's the exception rather than the rule. Her career, ultimately, seems to be less chasing mainstream success than really having no idea what to do with herself.

And that, my friends, is really quite sad. [Next week on 'Whatever Became Of...': Winona Ryder. (I may or may not be joking.)]

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Gee-Ni-Us


It's Oscar night tonight, but important things surrounding them are already afoot. Yes, I'm talking about the annual Supporting Actress Oscar Smackdown at StinkyLulu, which he was gracious enough to allow me to participate in, along with himself and seven other fantastic bloggers. Click over here to read our takes on each of the five nominees, and discover who came out on top. (You might want to take a little detour on your way there, though: Nathaniel at The Film Experience has been imagining this fight going down for real and he's shared it with his readers.) Supporting Actress is apparently one of the first announced at the ceremony tonight, so you won't have to wait long to find out who AMPAS themselves give the prize to.

Sunday, January 04, 2009

Supporting Actress Blog-a-thon, Class of 2008: Emmanuelle Devos in A Christmas Tale

I always have a problem with deciding whom to write on for StinkyLulu's most prominent of blog-a-thons, the Supporting Actress Blog-A-Thon, mainly because most of the "big" (read: Oscar) movies have yet to arrive on these shores and contenders are usually plucked from them. So who to choose? After seeing The Reader yesterday I briefly considered Lena Olin, but I decided I just didn't love that performance enough; and the National Society of Film Critics' pick of Hanna Schygulla in The Edge of Heaven reminded me of just how great she, and indeed the film, were. (And let's not forget Hallam Foe's Claire Forlani, who I almost wrote about last year too...) But there's always been one actress in the forefront of my mind for this honour.

I first came across Emmanuelle Devos in Arnaud Desplechin's superb Kings and Queen a few years ago, and it's with Desplechin she reunited this year for the role I have chosen to highlight...

Faunia in A Christmas Tale (Un conte de Noël)

Faunia is not actually a member of the family who reunite for Noël; she is the lover of eldest son Henri (Mathieu Almaric), who is somewhat of a black sheep and has actually been banished from his sister Elizabeth's (Anne Consigny) life. Faunia is somewhat reluctant to accompany Henri- whom she hasn't exactly been with for very long- to his family Christmas (particularly since she's Jewish), but accompany she does, and her somewhat looser attitude to life helps skew the family just that extra bit.

The entire cast of A Christmas Tale is terrific- it's a true ensemble piece- but Devos, intentionally, stands apart from the pack. The part seems to rely in part on Devos' natural charisma- the screen seems to get jolted, just a little, everytime she appears on screen. Faunia isn't, outwardly, bothered by the company forced upon her- you imagine she is acting how she would act anywhere else, not caring what the family think of her. Nevertheless, all this could make Faunia a cold, unattractive character, but Devos takes the material she is given and shades it beautifully. Observing the family, Devos gives just a hint of wistfulness- the idea that somewhere inside her is a wish for more closeness that she grants herself. The interaction with Henri, once they reach the family home, is surprisingly limited, lending evidence to the idea that this is not a relationship based on anything much at all. She treats his wilful impulses with an impassive role of the eyes. Faunia leaves on Christmas Eve, leaving Henri with just a kiss on the cheek.

Devos' most prominent scene- and, indeed, the one that got her this post- comes when Faunia goes shopping and walks around an art gallery with the family's matriarch, Junon (Catherine Deneuve). [IndieWire helpfully provides a tidbit of this scene.] The pair discuss Junon's family- and toss off things like "I always wondered what he [Henri- her son!] was like in bed"- with almost disinterested flippancy as they try on dresses and examine paintings. But it's in the art gallery where Devos shines- you see, all at once, her outsider status, her unrivalled comprehension of the complicated family, and her hidden wistfulness for something more. Faunia never says that Henri and she have no future, but Devos knows she knows it, knows that although she may want closeness, this is not the family she'll develop it with. As an outsider- the only true one, since the other siblings are married with children- Faunia is the only one who can reflect objectively on how the family functions, in traditionally dysfunctive fashion. Devos plays the part with subtlety, but also demonstrates a thrilling charisma- which, when up against French legend Deneuve, is quite a feat, and makes one wonder why she's isn't more beloved than she is.

Tuesday, December 09, 2008

Victim's 20 Favourite Actresses of All-Time

I've been tagged! This meme originates from the almighty Nathaniel at The Film Experience, and it is one tailor-made for he and all his actressexual friends: your 20 favourite actresses of all-time. No explanations, no rankings: just pictures. And, as I can't resist the multitude of diva-ish goodness, here are my twenty (in alpha order).


(click to enjoy the enormity)

Joan / Jean / Ingrid / Toni / Olivia
Marlene / Mia / Audrey / Katharine / Holly
Laura / Marilyn / Julianne / Jeanne / Miranda
Rosalind / Barbara / Kathleen / Sigourney / Kate