The biggest star doesn't always equal the brightest

"A man’s gotta know his limitations"
Harry Callahan

I finally got round to seeing Zombieland at the cinema last week. A very entertaining and likeable film, thanks in part to the always welcome presence of Woody Harrelson. Harrelson is up there with the likes of Paul Giamatti and Tom Wilkinson as one of those character actors you can always rely on to bring something interesting to a role, regardless of the quality on display in the rest of the film. I’m not placing the success of Zombieland firmly on his shoulders, but his performance definitely enhances this film, which is currently doing very well financially, both internationally and in the U.S, and on a relatively modest budget. It’s a perfect example of how Hollywood can still thrive in the current climate.

Studios should be making use of these character actors whenever possible. It’s crazy to think of the amount of expensive, big name ‘movie stars’ who often fail to deliver, and the amazing selection of actors available who would do a much better job, and for a fraction of the price. Post-Cheers, Harrelson seemed to move towards the leading Hollywood man in his early film career (with roles in films like Indecent Proposal and White Man Can’t Jump) before straddling the line between character actor in supporting parts and leads in smaller, independent films. Now in his late-forties, making no discernable attempts at disguising his baldness, nor revealing any (noticeable) tale-tell signs of trying to fight the aging process, he’s a refreshing and appealing alternative to the traditional Hollywood star.

Billy Bob Thornton, now the complete antithesis of this, is a fascinating example of an actor who has tried to navigate the opposite route and vie for the position of leading man after playing grubby, outcast character types. Go back and watch some of Thornton's earlier work (the undervalued and underrated One False Move and A Simple Plan are two fine examples) and compare them against some of his recent duds. He looks like a completely different person. Botox, hair-plugs, multiple face-lifts and a seemingly overriding desire to resemble Burt Reynolds, appear to be his biggest crimes. All the unique attributes that once made him immensely watchable and put him in the same dependable league as the likes of Harrelson and Giamatti, have now been physically air-brushed out, rendering him redundant as either the lead or as the quirky support. Once dubbed a “hillbilly Orson Welles” by Robert Duval, I hope his name won’t be only thing that will be reminiscent of this praise in the future.

Ben Affleck is another who tried to make the leap and scrambled to keep himself falling off the edge. Originally one of Kevin Smith’s stock players and genuinely hilarious as the savage school bully O’Bannion in Dazed and Confused, Affleck was ushered into the position of matinee idol to almost unanimous critical and box office failure. Why couldn’t he have realised where his talent lay and developed the everyman, indie character actor he originally made his name with? I can’t think of a more apt metaphor than the story I read about the studio that backed Armageddon, paying for him to have his teeth ‘fixed’ before filming began. Unlike Thornton, Affleck has since had the chance to redeem himself via his talent as a director and by choosing acting roles which play to his strengths, including his praised performance in Hollywoodland, which ultimately earned him the best actor award at the Venice Film Festival.

Now I can’t possible begin to understand the pressures and struggles faced when trying to make it in Hollywood, with all the countless egos encountered and battled with, but wouldn’t it make sense for actors on the cusp of fame and recognition to use their supposed boundaries as an advantage and not as a handicap. In the end, surely career longevity must be more appealing than a couple of years fighting to be top at the box office and trying to fit in a box you clearly aren’t designed for. Audiences, however fickle they may be, soon pick up on this form of cinematic subterfuge.

After all, as they say, beauty is in the eye of the cinema ticket-holder.

The Cinema Experience

Being an avid cinemagoer and living in London, I feel particularly spoilt for choice in regards to the diverse range of films available, although cinemas in the West End aren’t really the cheapest places to go if you want to see something (I paid £24 for two tickets recently). I love the Ritzy in Brixton and one of my fondest cinema memories is strolling out of there on a cool, summers afternoon a couple of years ago, having watched a re-release of Antonioni’s The Passenger.

Although I’ve visited what could probably be considered an unhealthy amount of both commercial and independent cinemas in both in London and elsewhere, my all-time favourite is still the The Hyde Park Picture House in Leeds. Situated deep in the middle of a deprived housing area, home to both a large student and Asian community, the Picture House is truly a hidden gem. It’s a place I visited often during my student years and beyond, taking in some amazing pieces of cinema and genuine classics along the way (Far from Heaven, Morvern Caller, Mulholland Drive, Battle Royale, Y tu mamá también, Memento, Amores Perros.)

Built in the early 1900s, the cinema’s old, murky Edwardian décor, complete with a piano, organ and gas lighting, really provided a unique viewing experience. I mean, how many times could you actually claim to have watched a David Lynch film while sat in a building, the interior of which could have sprung from his own fertile imagination. There were times when I half expected to walk into a screening and instead be greeted to a strobing light and a backwards-talking dwarf stepping out from the cinema’s ancient crimson velvet curtains. This was by no means a luxurious place to watch a film however. A small, cramped counter housed both the snack bar and box office, ensuring chaos on busy evenings, and a packet of wet-wipes were always on hand in the men’s toilet as the taps didn’t work. A security guard was even employed during screening times as the cinema had experienced more than its fair share of robberies.

One of the many reasons why I love film is the notion of escaping your normal, drab surroundings for a couple of hours and being immersed in a world completed removed from your own. The Hyde Park Picture House best exemplified this for me. Whether having the opportunity to hang with a bunch of young, rebellious Californian skaters (Dogtown & Z-Boys), or observe two thirtysomethings wondering around the left-bank in Paris, rekindling a brief romance from the past (Before Sunset), the Hyde Park offered escapism in an area where it was much needed, enhancing the whole cinematic experience in the process. Just don’t get me started on how cheap the price of tickets was!

Dear Diary

I’ve just dug out an old journal which includes some entries on visits to the cinema. There are moments of drama, comedy and horror here, on and off-screen:

Red Shadow
I’m at the annual Leeds Film Festival where an overenthusiastic audience member juggling a days worth of cinema snacks (nachos with the works, popcorn, big-ass cup of Pepsi), trips and falls violently into the steps next to me. Carnage.

Hot Shots
Letting my hand wander to the side of my seat during the film, I find a strange object which, after much touching and groping, I eventually realise to be the foot of the guy who is sat behind me. Unfairly labelled a ‘dirty fucking weirdo’ by my so-called friends whom I mistakenly confess to afterwards.

Sleepers
Smack-head wonders into the cinema, making occasional indistinguishable noises as the film starts, then begins yelling “it’s fucking DeNiro!” as if he can’t quite believe who he’s seeing on the screen in front of him and wants to share it with the rest of the cinema. He exits soon after this.

Exorcist re-release
Regrettably attend a showing with an audience who have just stumbled out of seeing American Pie for the 24th time. Cue lots of uproarious laughter during serious scenes in film. I sit there quietly seething, wanting to scold these ignorant fools and explain how they need to understand the film in its original context, its images and power have been lost/diluted due to years of parody and homage’s, etc. Ultimately do nothing and decide to sit and suffer through it.

Kolya
Feeling particularly cultured, buy a ticket for acclaimed new Czech film. Grow increasingly confused as cinema begins to fill up with an excited Indian audience, many of whom have brought their whole families along. Realise my mistake when the opening credits to a Bollywood film called Koyla begin.

Battle in Heaven
Go on my own to see existential Mexican art-house kidnap drama. Opening scene starts in slow-mo and is an extreme close-up of a young girl fellating a sweaty, overweight gentleman who is considerably older than her. Suddenly I’m very aware of being on my own, and that the cinema is eerily quiet. It dawns on me that there are probably people in here with ulterior motives. Eugh!

The Phantom Menace
I’ve read the reviews. I convince myself that all I need to do is to lay low for a while, let the hype die down, then judge the film on its own merits. I mean, it’s Star Wars! The curtains go back and the familiar 20th Century Fox logo appears, followed by the glittering Lucasfilm one. Beautiful. My eyes begin to well up (slightly) as all the memories of the film which first awakened my passion in cinema all those years ago, come flooding back. Any hints of warm nostalgia soon disappear and after 115 minutes, I am convinced that I have just been witness to the biggest disappointment in my life. That night, I make the uneasy transition from boy to man.

Geekly TV Listings

As a young teenager forming a love of cinema, I owed a great deal of my film education and appreciation to BBC 2’s series Moviedrome. This UK show was presented by film-maker Alex Cox (later replaced by Mark Cousins) who, each week, would introduce an eclectic mix of left-field, mostly American genre films. Viewers would be treated to showing of both schlocky, exploitation material alongside films of a more esoteric nature (the latter I grew to appreciate more at a later age.)

It was where I watched, for the first time, a list of film which occupied and awakened my pubescent mind to exciting, alternative (and many occasions) darker cinematic experiences: Escape From New York, Night of the Comet, Brazil, Vamp, Rabid, The Serpent and the Rainbow, Darkman, Trancers, Manhunter, Halloween and later on, La Vie Sexuelle des Belges (The Sexual Lives of Begium) and Spanking the Monkey. Moviedrome was a place where you could watch stuff which was normally off limits to you at the local video shop and all you needed were understanding (or unaware) parents and the ability to set your video recorder’s timer on a Sunday night (school in the morning!) These films were often watched the following day of broadcast, usually with a group of friends all crowded together in someone’s bedroom. They encouraged debate, sparked our imaginations and led us to seek out and rent similar titles, when possible.

Paradoxically, the digital age we’ve living in where viewing accessibility appears boundless, hasn’t necessarily guaranteed the full availability of the types of films synonymous with Moviedrome, especially from the earlier series. Some are still missing from DVD (especially in the UK), terrestrial TV doesn’t have the budget to screen this type of programming anymore and satellite channels appear to show more obvious ‘cult’ films, presumably down to the pressure of screening work which is more accessible and likely to draw a wider audience. I know the internet has everything we could wish for information-wise, but the opportunity for this stuff to be presented directly to an audience, with background information on the history and social context of the film, makes a huge difference.

It’s a shame that teenagers growing up in this era, desperate for something a little different and unique from the normal, generic crap fed to them, don’t have a series like Moviedrome to help shape and guide their undernourished cinematic interests.


Check out Alex Cox's website which includes a PDF of an old Moviedrome film guide: www.alexcox.com