The DeNiro perplex
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I know you don’t hold this opinion, but the very idea that any movie De Niro makes now could be unforgivable really infuriates me. He could do nothing but shit from now on, and it would be none of our business – he owes us nothing, and we’ve already gotten so much.
I used to be really self-righteous about the concept of selling out (as if I had anything to sell out to or from), but a big turning point was seeing Bob Dylan interviewed on 60 MINUTES, and whoever did the story brought up the Victoria’s Secret ad Dylan did. His response was a blank-faced “Should I not have done that?” Touché’.
Actually, Bill, I do not disagree, and that’s why I tried to choose the words that I put around the U‑word carefully, to wit: “As ostensibly unforgivable we may believe the likes of ‘Hide And Seek,’ ’15 Minutes,’ ‘Righteous Kill’ and other too-numerous De Niro duds have been, we can’t help but believe that he still has a few more rabbits to pull from his hat to awe us with.” Admittedly, the royal “we” is a bit of rhetorical fancy dancing. I meant the key word to be “believe,” really. And personally, I’m with you—I don’t think DeNiro OWES anybody anything. And I think I make clear that I believe he’s still got valuable goods to bestow, if he so chooses. That said, the pictures I cited are not very good. As for Dylan’s Victoria’s Secret ad, I rather enjoyed it.
A work colleague told me he preferred the De Niro of Meet the Fockers to his 70s movies, still trying to work out if that is intended as a side-swipe because he overhead me scoffing at his championing of Steinbeck as the GAN.
Well, I did say “I know you don’t hold this opinion”, and meant it to mean that you don’t find anything he does now “unforgivable”, but I see now that it comes across as meaning the opposite. Oops! Sorry about that.
Otherwise, yes. I haven’t seen most of the films you cited, actually, because while I do still revere De Niro, I also don’t feel the need to see films that he’s in that I don’t want to see just because he’s in them. I did see HIDE AND SEEK, and it’s not good, I agree. Still, *he* wasn’t bad, until they forced him to act the twist, which was awful. Up to that point, though, he was playing a regular guy, a regular dad, which I think he’s actually really good at, and it’s probably – for all I know – not that easy to do.
And MIDNIGHT RUN is a really interesting film in his career. I absolutely love it, and I think his performance is sort of a dead-pan master class. It’s a shame that the directors who have cast him in comedies since then haven’t wanted to plumb that well. The scene between him and Grodin that ends with De Niro saying “Here’s two words for you: Shut the fuck up” is about as funny as anything I’ve seen in a film since I’ve been watching them.
@ Bill: D’oh!
Okay, then. So onward with the love fest! Yes, that “Midnight Run” stuff is pretty damn awesome. It’s easy to forget just how much fun that picture is, I guess partially because of the slew of awful imitations that still follow in its wake (which isn’t to say that the premise of “Run” was completely original to begin with, but hell, I haven’t got all day here). And while DeNiro had certainly been funny in prior pictures, it really did take some imagination and guts, at least by industry standards, to cast him in comic role at that point in time. Just one of those things that really makes you wonder, “What HAPPENED to Martin Brest, anyway?…”
And now he’s heading up the next Cannes jury: http://www.imdb.com/news/ni6677379/
Glenn, your Martin Brest question is one of the great unknowables. He’s had one of the stranger Hollywood careers.
MIDNIGHT RUN also contains one of the few film scores by Danny Elfman that doesn’t sound like Danny Elfman wrote it. But that’s neither here nor there. What’s more relevant is that in that film, De Niro – a master at swearing on film – is swearing at the top of his game. Like, he’s the only one who really knows how to say those words.
Here’s another bit of trivial MIDNIGHT RUN detritus:
The movie came out when I was just a lad, and it’s a movie I fell instantly in love with. So in love – and please consider my youth – that I bought the novelization (do those things still exist?) which, if memory serves, and I think it does, was written by George Gallo, the film’s screenwriter. I never made it very far in that book, though, because I was alarmed and confouded to learn that the main thing missing from it were all the jokes. The only part I remember is from the very beginning, when Jack Walsh has just caught the guy who tried in the film (can’t remember if this was in the book) to blow off Jack’s head with a shotgun. He takes him to the police station, and in the film the clerk asks Walsh if the guy gave him any trouble. Jack asks the guy “Did you give me any trouble?” and the guy says “Man, fuck you!”, to which Walsh responds with a shrugging “Well, hey” kind of gesture. In the film it’s very funny. In the book, Walsh feels bad for the guy, and as he’s being led away Gallo has him think “Good luck, pal”, or something like that. It was appalling! As you can imagine!
Anyway, Gallo also came up recently in what I thought was a very interesting interview at the AV Club with Jon Lovitz. Lovitz has only nice things to say about everybody from Nicolas Cage to Madonna to Jerry Bruckheimer. Prior to that interview, the only person I’ve ever heard Lovitz speak badly of is Andy Dick. After that interview, it’s Andy Dick and George Gallo. Coincidence???
Two more things about MIDNIGHT RUN, for me; one, imagine if Robin Williams had gotten Charles Grodin’s part instead. Two, unlike almost every other comedy DeNiro has done since, it doesn’t depend on him putting a comic spin on his persona (maybe not WAG THE DOG). He plays it straight here, and yet it’s really funny (and yes, his facility with profanity is especially amazing here). I wish he’d do more comedies like that.
As far as whether DeNiro “owes” anybody anything; well, I can’t disagree with anything you’ve said, and I also think, if he wants, he can make another one or two good movies as director (as I’m one of those who think THE GOOD SHEPHERD was one of the best movies of the year it came out). On the other hand, it’s still painful to me to think DeNiro and Pacino together went from GODFATHER II to HEAT to…RIGHTEOUS KILL?
Let me just say right up front, “Mean Streets” changed my life.
Robert DeNiro was the guy who inspired me to become an actor. And as it’s been pointed out, he owes us nothing for he has given us all so much, for which I’m grateful.
That being said, I wish the man would be a bit more selective in the work he chooses to do. While I’m jazzed about the possibility of him teaming up with Scorsese, Pacino and Pesci, in “The Irishman”, I get a little low knowing he’s in Garry Marshall’s , “New Year’s Eve”.
Then again, in one movie he’ll be in a cage with lions and tigers while in the other movie he’ll be in a cage with canaries.
And for a guy pushing 70, that ain’t too bad.
Carry on.
lipranzer, you’re not alone on “The Good Shepherd.” Aafter not fully processing it after the first viewing (though still liking it) I found myself watching much of it several times (like “Psycho” or “Pulp Fiction”) if, say, I was flipping through the channels and came across it. I remember reading they were wanting to do a follow-up but who knows if it’ll ever come to pass. Would like to see De Niro back in the director’s chair sooner than later, nonetheless.
@Jimmy and lipranzer – I wish the same things you guys wish. It’s just – and I know you know this – we can’t *demand* it. The other thing about De Niro that a lot of people say these days, as if they had any sort of authority, is that he’s “tarnishing his legacy”. Well, no he isn’t. His legacy is movies like TAXI DRIVER. That’s what will survive, not ANALYZE THAT, and that’s his legacy.
I never really tuned in with THE GOOD SHEPHERD, and found myself easily distracted from it. As a result, I guess I have no comment, although I will say that the bit on the plane with the girl on the end really made me feel sick. Which is a compliment. I couldn’t even say what led to it, or the context, but just the idea of it, and the way De Niro and the actors handled it, really horrified me.
This guy already said it, so I don’t have to:
“It’s incredible to think that the once-monumental Robert De Niro has now effetively become the Syd James of America.”
http://www.guardian.co.uk/film/filmblog/2011/jan/05/gullivers-travels-little-fockers-christmas
Oh, please. It’s like we all loaned Robert De Niro a hundred bucks and he paid us back with a punch in the nuts. He’s still monumental. He achieved monumentality ages ago. And it’s his life to live as he pleases, and always has been. It’s just another excuse to be negative and act as though the universe has ripped us off.
Believe me bill, my air of hopeless negativity needs or requires no excuses.
It’s his life to live as he pleases, certainly. By the same token I’m also free to say that his name on a marquee once meant quality and now means the reverse and it’s a shame. Nobody would begrudge De Niro a few moneymakers, but he phoned it in for one dud too many for this viewer long ago.
The Good Shepherd for all its flaws was certainly one of the most interesting movies of the year.
To avoid the risk of overstating things more than I perhaps already have, I’ll move on. I’m just glad I have TAXI DRIVER, KING OF COMEDY, and so on, on DVD at home, to watch whenever the mood strikes.
Bobby D died after making Heat/Casino. FACT!!!
(not to get all LexG up in here)
“I never really tuned in with THE GOOD SHEPHERD, and found myself easily distracted from it.”
I would recommend giving it another chance, if you have the time to kill. As I said, I liked it but it really grew on me with subsequent viewings. (And, sure I’m slow, but it only recently occurred to me the similarities of Damon’s performance here with his turn as Mr. Ripley.)
THE GOOD SHEPHERD is laudable for its ambition, better than most actor-directed fare and yet still far short of what it should have been – a kind of GODFATHER-like origin story of the modern CIA. Robert Littell did a much better job with the same type of thing in his big novel THE COMPANY. (Stay away from the godawful TV film of that.)
Warren, I’d be more willing to take up your THE COMPANY recommendation if I hadn’t read Littell’s THE SISTERS. A crushing disappointment, as it had been praised to the heavens years before it was reprinted, and my hopes were quite high.
@Bill, you can’t go wrong with THE DEFECTION OF A.J. LEWINTER or THE COMPANY. At polar opposites of the genre. His first book and his biggest. Both gripping spy yarns. And LEWINTER is actually hilarious too. And just as innovative a twist on the defection thriller in its own little way as, say, THE HUNT FOR RED OCTOBER.
I like Robert Littell as well, and “The Company,” but I would say THE GOOD SHEPHERD is more akin to, say, “Harlot’s Ghost.”
Some of the best actors don’t really seem to care about their choice of roles, e.g. Michael Caine, Ben Kingsley, Nicholas Cage, Gene Hackman (and I haven’t seen all 225 of Michel Piccoli’s, but it’s statistically almost certain that there’s a fair share of bad films among them) – maybe they like the money, but I would guess they have enough and just love to act.
I know I’ll get in trouble for this, but the unconsidered given that bugs me in the whole, very silly ‘tarnishing his legacy’ idea is the premise that De Niro is the Ultimate Genius Actor of Our Lifetime. He isn’t; he’s a formidable actor inside a range more limited than not only Olivier’s (for sure), but – quite conceivably – Jack Lemmon’s. The way he influenced a generation or two of epigones to equate greatness with intensity and treat giving the audience pleasure as evidence of a cheap soul has made him one of the banes of my moviegoing life. That he treated and still treats comedy as a lesser art – even when embracing it – would horrify the sweet shade of Cary Grant, one of his obvious betters.
Nice to see some love for The Good Shepherd, but it should be noted that the theatrical cut was different from what De Niro had intended. He’s mentioned a longer director’s cut in interviews but god knows if that will ever come out.
I know many found it slow, but I still feel that added material would only benefit what’s already there (which is mostly great).
Then there was his SNL hosting stint the other week – well, maybe the less said about that the better. Dirty dancing in drag with P. Diddy maybe sounds funnier than it plays.
@Tom Carson, although I don’t necessarily agree with your characterization of De Niro as having a “limited” range, I do think you are hitting on something interesting, which is this false dichotomy between “naturalistic” acting styles and acting styles that are deemed “less” naturalistic. This is a distinction which has always driven me nuts. And there is a whole generation of moviegoers who now look back at a lot of old films and talk about how “unrealistic” the performances are. Cary Grant may possibly be the greatest actor the American cinema has ever had, but for a lot of younger film watchers great acting didn’t begin until Brando.
I really enjoy the acting style of De Niro and his contemporaries, and many of his descendants, Sean Penn, Edward Norton etc… but it is not the only acting style. And it is an acting style that is not very realistic at all, see Sean Penn in Carlito’s Way for a perfect example of the stylization of his acting style. And it is this false classification of the Method Acting style that leads people to label performances that fall outside of that style as bad. Jack Nicholson in The Shining being a good example of this, although he is a Method Actor, that is clearly not a performance delivered in that style, and many critics at the time saw Nicholson’s extreme stylization as a bad performance.
Sorry for all of my rambling and taking up so much space, I guess my point is that I don’t have a problem with the Method style of acting, but people need to stop thinking in terms of: Method=Naturalism, Realism, and any other style=lack of realism. It’s not about naturalism or realism for me, it’s about actors being truthful to the material and doing it justice.
Also, I just wanted to let you know how much I enjoy reading your blog Mr. Kenny. This is my first time commenting, I admit to having a sensitive ego so I do not usually partake in discourse online, and I just wanted to say how much I value your writing. I also wanted to say thanks for turning me on to The Story of Marie and Julien, not just because it’s a brilliant film in and of itself, but I have been going back and watching a lot of Rivette films, which has been one of those “How did I not know about the brilliance of these films before” kind of experiences.
Another longtime lurker here, chiming in to second Jason’s thanks for recommending The Story of Marie and Julien. And while I’m at it, thank you bill for suggesting Pleasure Party as a good left-field place to start on Chabrol. Those were my two great filmmaker discoveries of 2010.
I agree, Jason. I always find it amusing when people who think Bette Davis or Cary Grant aren’t “real” enough seem to be blind to the Method hamminess of certain contemporary actors. And it kills me when capital‑A Acting shoves subtlety aside come awards season. It’s a miracle when a performance like Robert Forster’s in JACKIE BROWN, for instance, lands an Oscar nod.
Tom – I don’t really know where the idea to pit the De Niros and the Grants against each other came from. I don’t think you’ll find too many people here who would denegrate Cary Grant – I consider him one of my absolute favorites, NOTORIOUS is a perfect film, and so on.
It’s also a bit presumptuous to assume, as I feel like you’re doing, that De Niro’s fans don’t actually *enjoy* his performances, as if we sit around watching RAGING BULL and saying “Oh, yes, acting, indeed.” Even in a minor film like COPLAND has that wonderful “You bleeeeew it!” scene, which, to me, is just a delight. De Niro eats the hell out of that sandwich!
Joel – I don’t even remember doing that, but I’m so glad you liked it! I’m hardly an expert on Chabrol, but I love his films, and PLEASURE PARTY is probably the best I’ve seen so far. Check out LA CEREMONIE if you haven’t yet.
Good post. I like to read your posts. well written. thank you.
Robert De Niro has given me some of the best hours I ever spent in a movie theater, which means I forgive him for the hours of suffering I’ve also endured from him.
@Jason Melanson, amen.
I’m of the opinion that The Good Shepherd is a more successful version of Topaz! 🙂
The first sign that De Niro was going from “class” to “mass” (ahem) was his “Lou Cyphre” bit in ANGEL HEART (87). So began the rollercoaster, with some real loop-de-loops (GODSEND, anyone?). But there have been a few sharp turns, too–RONIN was on MaxHD yesterday, and it and the De Niro of 98 looked quite spiffy, just about the last time he attempted such a role. He did as much as could be done with EVERYBODY’S FINE and I hear he’s quite good in STONE, which sank like a…
There could hardly be a *less* successful version.
bill, I hardly meant to imply that anyone on SCR, of all places, would denigrate Cary Grant. Just that, in the notional category of Ultimate Genius Actor, he’s much closer to my ideal than De Niro and puts the latter’s narrower range– or maybe our glum current definition of great acting – in perspective.
As for my complaint about De Niro’s killjoy side, remember that I was talking about his influence on other actors – from Sean Penn to Leonardo di Caprio – for whom the De Niro of yore *is* their acting ideal. It’s not that he or they never give the audience pleasure, but that doing so isn’t a priority for them and they mistrust it as if it’s a betrayal of their art. People might be less dismayed by De Niro’s “decline” in his post-Analyze This phase if he hadn’t spent years behaving as if comedy – or hell, entertainment – was for slobs.
@ Tom: You bring up some very interesting points that I believe are more relative to a public perception of DeNiro than what we might provisionally refer to as “reality.” You say DeNiro “spent years behaving as if comedy…was for slobs.” But I’m not sure just how he did that. Was it by not talking to the press? Or just by choosing a long series of what could be ostensibly be characterized as “high-art” projects? Because from much of the behind-the-scenes stuff I’ve heard (which admittedly is not really voluminous) and my own extremely limited exposure to The Man himself in person in what might be called social situations, his squirrely awkwardness isn’t an act, and it doesn’t seem to derive from anything you might call snobbery. At least not snobbery in the effete sense that a looking-down-one’s nose perspective on “entertainment” might suggest. What I’m saying is that the fact that he was able to not get away with tap-dancing for entertainment journalists for a very long time should not necessarily be taken as an indication of any attitude on his part, besides the attitude that disinclines one to tap-dance for entertainment journalists. Or am I misreading you entirely?
Well, I happen to like DiCaprio, and have even – hold on to your hats – enjoyed Penn from time to time. Even if I didn’t, though, I’m not sure why I should blame De Niro for that. On Tobias Woolf’s Wikipedia page, it says he influenced Tucker Max! I’m not sure I actually believe that, but even if it’s true “Bullet in the Brain” is still a brilliant short story.
I see no element of “killjoy” in what De Niro does, or did, or what DiCaprio does (with Penn, on the other hand, you might have a point). They may not be inclined to make certain kinds of movies, but as I enjoy the kinds of movies DiCaprio is currently making, I just don’t know what to do with your points. DiCaprio might hate joy, but if it doesn’t effect my own enjoyment of his films, I don’t see why I should care.
@Glenn, of course a lot of this is a matter of perception, including how De Niro’s imitators perceive his example (which may well do the man himself an injustice). And yes, I was thinking primarily of his choice of roles in his prime and the hierarchy of values it implied – to my eyes, an impressive but ultimately constricting notion of what great acting was good for. His aloofness from the press, which was his prerogative and would be silly to complain about – I’ve got no trouble believing his motive wasn’t disdain so much as discomfort – only comes into it in that it added to his mystique.
All the same, the mystique no doubt is a big part of what I’m chafing at here, since calling De Niro a great actor is one thing and elevating him into some sort of peerless definition of what great acting is all about is another. Maybe that’s not entirely or even mainly his fault, but I think it’s had a bad effect on (male) movie acting, partly because the guys with the most talent are the ones most likely to emulate his dour model.
I think the angle with DeNiro these days is that he takes comedy too seriously. It was the eccentric infusion of comedy in his early work from DePalma through Scorsese that I found most appealing in his acting style. The cagey buffoonery of his Johnny in MEAN STREETS with the the Abbott and Costello Mook scene. Travis Bickel’s mohawk encounter with a secret service agent in TAXI DRIVER. Come on! NEW YORK NEW YORK was filled with routines—from his bum leg to his throwing himself under Minnelli’s car wheels… begging her to run him over. KING OF COMEDY— his scenes with Sandra. JACKIE BROWN–I thought the parking lot scene with his growing frustration with Fonda not remembering where she parked the car was hilarious.
DeNiro wanted revenge after WE’RE NO ANGELS.
Like many others here, I can’t go with the whole Grant/De Niro, comedy/seriousness, method/non-method thing.
The “method” is where my problems begin. That term is used so freely these days, and it shouldn’t be. The method refers to an extremely specific sense memory technique taught by Lee Strasberg. Elia Kazan had no use for it, Brando and De Niro were students of Strasberg’s arch enemy Stella Adler (who felt that the method had done serious damage to American acting), and Pacino recently told me that he never used the method systematically, only where it seemed helpful. As for those other great forces in modern American acting, Hackman and Duvall, they studied with Sanford Meisner; Jack Nicholson studied on the west coast with Jeff Corey. It’s obvious there there was a shift toward increased psychological verisimilitude in American acting after Brando, but the “method” was just a part of it.
As for De Niro/Grant, they came from two entirely different approaches to moviemaking, to storytelling, to character, etc. Neither could have functioned in the other’s era, but they are both great artists – one anticipates the other (on the level of instinct and gesture), the other learned from his predecessor whether he acknowledged it or not. One of the many things that I admire about Grant’s acting is the way he injects seriousness and strange undercurrents into the most unexpected situations – how else could he have played the CIA operative in NOTORIOUS? And De Niro, in his really great work, brings humor into the most unlikely situations. RAGING BULL, for instance – a hair-raising experience, partly because the humor and the horror are in such close proximity. As for the public perception around De Niro and the effect his “myth” had on other actors, what does it really have to do with his acting? And I don’t believe he was ever press shy – for years, he wasn’t very good at interviews, but I don’t remember a time when he didn’t do them.
I think anyone who started acting in the 80s and beyond has a different kind of issue to contend with. Since then, more and more power has been invested by agents, managers and studio executives in actors, less and less in directors. Actors became imperious, free-floating entities, greater and greater emphasis was placed on “projects” and “packages,” and that’s how people like Ridley Scott became so “important.”
One thing I’ve learned on SCR is that when Kent Jones disagrees with you, the wise course is to modestly beat a retreat. I regret that bringing Cary Grant into things apparently made a mess of my point, which was simply that there are different models for “great” screen acting and I think De Niro’s has its confining side. It certainly isn’t intrinsically superior to any of the others. I can’t help wishing it hadn’t become so much the dominant one in our time, but maybe that’s just me and the wish is evidently a forlorn one.
In answer to, “As for the public perception around De Niro and the effect his “myth” had on other actors, what does it really have to do with his acting?”, I’ve already said that my main beef is with his influence on a couple of generations of actors since – which has obviously been huge. And assessing that influence does combine his approach to acting, his choice of roles and his mystique/myth/whatever. Even if the last of the three was largely other people’s creation and is irrelevant to judging his talent as such, how can we treat it as separate from the rest of his effect, any more than we do with any other movie star? Disagreeing with my interpretation of whether that effect was more positive or negative is something else again, and clearly lots of smart people do.
And while we’re at it, I should chime in a mea culpa, as I use the term “method” in my MSN piece in precisely the imprecise way Kent bemoans, quite correctly, in his observations. The term has become journalistic shorthand, or even lingua franca, to mean something along the lines of “actor who will gain a great deal of weight to play a movie role.” As DeNiro did for later Jake LaMotta in “Raging Bull,” and I myself did for my role as the Erotic Connoisseur in “The Girlfriend Experience.” Ahem. Interestingly, though, the shorthand is more often than not applied in cases of actors with substantive New York backgrounds and training. As intense and, to some, peculiar as Daniel Day-Lewis’s process is, you don’t see him get the “method” tag terribly often. In any event, in trying to achieve the sort of concise quality that pieces of such length require, I may have muddied the waters of my own point somewhat. Or, as DeNiro’s Jimmy Conway put it in “Goodfellas,” “just a little bit.”
“Since then, more and more power has been invested by agents, managers and studio executives in actors, less and less in directors. Actors became imperious, free-floating entities, greater and greater emphasis was placed on ‘projects’ and ‘packages,’ and that’s how people like Ridley Scott became so ‘important.’ ”
Kent, could you expand on that a bit, especially re: Ridley Scott? I’m not quite sure if you’re implying he’s less an artist than a helmer of “packages”, or that he as director lacks for power/control over his films. Both of which– even if I don’t dig his recent work as much as his earlier films– I’d be inclined to disagree with strongly.
I’d like to stress that I’m asking in the spirit of genuine curiousity and friendly debate/discussion, and not trying to be flippant.
Tom, where would life be without disagreement?
On your insistence that De Niro be called “a” great actor as opposed to “the” great actor, you’ll get no argument from me. Such thinking should be applied to any and all situations and walks of life.
But I would have to respectfully part company with you on the question of a link between an artist’s work and and the effect it has on others. I think that in the arena of film acting, there’s already too much muddying of the waters, blending the actual work of acting, iconography and the “public” persona factor into one unholy mess.
Apropos of Glenn’s ruminations on De Niro, the man can hold the screen. There’s a great YouTube video of some idiot trying to direct him while he’s filming a PSA, and the guy actually says, “Can we do it again, this time with a little more energy?” De Niro responds – correctly – “That HAD energy, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” He has incredible control. In HEAT, a movie that I like less and less but in which I admire him (and Val Kilmer) more and more, there’s a great scene where he’s driving through a tunnel with his girl, and changes his mind about leaving town: he has to go back and kill the guy who betrayed his gang. The transformations on his face are absolutely amazing. Same with that great slow motion move in on him at the bar in GOOD FELLAS (opening of “Sunshine of Your Love” on the soundtrack). Or the scene in TRUE CONFESSIONS where he simply goes up to his room and gets ready for bed (there’s an equally great scene in that film where Duvall is just listening to his brother’s voice on the radio). I don’t think the same can really be said of a lot of other actors – Grant, Brando, Robert Ryan, John Wayne. Nothing to do with who you trained with or what acting exercises you do, everything to do with talent.
Glenn, I was just kind of thinking out loud about the method. How could I have neglected to cite THE GIRLFRIEND EXPERIENCE?
Mr. Russell…Mr. Scott…as they used to say in PEANUTS, “–sigh–”
I have absolutely no doubt that Sir Ridley is talented. Nor do I doubt the level of control he has over his projects. It’s the projects themselves I have a problem with. My problems with him began with BLACK RAIN. THELMA AND LOUISE was fun to watch when it came out but it finally doesn’t add up to much, and neither does anything he’s done since, at least from my point of view. I will admit that I haven’t seen AMERICAN GANGSTER, but I find the ones I have seen pretty uninspiring.
@ Kent: I found “American Gangster” EXTREMELY disappointing. I suppose that the “Alien” and “Blade Runner” fan in me has deluded himself into believing that Ridley has more rabbits to pull out of HIS hat, and “Gangster,” which he was bestowed after Antoine Fuqua got fired from the project, seemed like a potentially apt vehicle for him to do that with. No such luck. In any event, God spare you “A Good Year.”
And to add to all those “early, funny” De Niro roles, don’t forget his very amusing cameo in Brazil. And according to the documentary on the DVD for that film De Niro was able to use the promise of a ‘rare interview’ to get Gilliam some media access during the squabbling over that film’s release.
“… in the arena of film acting, there’s already too much muddying of the waters, blending the actual work of acting, iconography and the “public” persona factor into one unholy mess.”
Kent, I can see your objections, but I think it’s just two approaches, both valid. No surprise I’ve ended up practicing the one that my own skill set, such as it is, is more suited to. I was bred on Robert Christgau’s m.o. in analyzing rock stars, in which considering the work itself is one (major) facet of an interpretation that includes public persona, good or deleterious influence, and overall role in the cultural landscape. And certainly, Kael’s Kiss Kiss Bang Bang essay on Brando does something very similar.
As for AMERICAN GANGSTER, I rated it higher than most at the time and promptly forgot it. But yeah, sitting through A GOOD YEAR is something I wouldn’t wish on anyone.
@ Kent – I’m interested to hear more about this idea of “packaging,” that you mention. Do you think it’s on the rise still? Does Sir Ridley represent a transition toward the emphasis being placed on directors, or is he an exception? The Hollywood trend that seems most obvious to me is that of massive “cross-platform” entertainments – superhero movies, video game adaptations, etc. – and the ability of matinée idols to wield the power they had in the 80s and 90s seems to be on the wane. It seems like the real power-players, or at least the emergent ones, are marketing chiefs at Viacom and Time Warner and all the other faceless corporations.
As for American Gangster – I saw enough to know that it stacked up about evenly with other latter-day Scott pieces, which is to say, mediocre at best. I know at one point the project was offered to David Fincher, who presented a budget that the studio balked at. He relates the story in a recent interview somewhere. Too bad that didn’t work out, but it’s no surprise that Fincher is a more discerning director.
And as for De Niro – yes, his concentration and intensity is truly a thing to behold. I know just the scene Kent mentions in Heat, and it is a fantastic piece of acting and storytelling. It’s probably my favorite non-Scorsese-directed performance of his – pure, economical, intense, moody De Niro. His performances for Scorsese are always a joy – there’s always that extra edge of what seems to be improvisation in their sheer unpredictability. There are some great moments when De Niro plays up the line between frustration and violent rage, like the scene in Goodfellas when he realizes the other crooks are spending the loot on ostentatious luxuries, or the scene in Casino where he dresses-down the inept cowboy floor manager for letting someone rip off the slot machines. There’s something both scary and funny in those scenes and plenty of others – it may be banal to say so, but limited though he may be in range, De Niro is always compellingly human.
“I know at one point [‘American Gangster’] was offered to David Fincher, who presented a budget that the studio balked at. He relates the story in a recent interview somewhere.”
That interview being:
http://collider.com/david-fincher-interview-social-network-girl-with-dragon-tattoo/67432/
Thanks for the alley-oop, Oliver.
It was my understanding that De Niro first gained the weight to play fat LaMotta and then lost it as filming progressed to play the young boxer.
Your “understanding” is mistaken.
Martin Scorsese: “ ‘Raging Bull’ took a long time because Bobby wanted to put on all the weight. We had to shut down and pay the entire crew for about four months while he ate his way around Northern Italy and France. He said it was hard to get up in the morning and force yourself to have breakfast, then lunch. then dinner. After a while it became really uncomfortable for him. In the meantime Thelma Schoonmaker and I cut the whole film except, of course, for the fat scenes. We had to shoot those around Christmas 1979.” From “Scorsese on Scorsese,” Edited by David Thompson and Ian Christie, Faber and Faber, 1989.
Glenn, I’m not surprised that you found AMERICAN GANGSTER disappointing – it would be hard for me to believe that the guy who made GLADIATOR and BLACK HAWK DOWN had suddenly gotten it together to make a great movie. Scott’s films seem so depressingly cranked out, albeit fitfully impressive, with legions of assistants and 2nd and 3rd and 4th units following his every command, not to mention more legions of post-production artisans and technicians and what have you. He doesn’t seem to take any time with the actors and spends all his energy on set-pieces. His first five movies seemed pretty good at the time (yes, even LEGEND – is it because it had a Bryan Ferry song? I’m not sure anymore), but after that…
Meanwhile, I wonder if you too balked at the characterization of BRAZIL as “early De Niro.” I was touched when you wrote about BANG THE DRUM SLOWLY and MEAN STREETS. I still remember catching some of THE GANG THAT COULDN’T SHOOT STRAIGHT on HBO at a friend’s house, sometime in ’73 – that was where he played an Italian guy, and he was apparently so convincing that casting agents thought he really was Italian. In the summer of ’73, BANG THE DRUM SLOWLY came out. I vividly remember crying buckets of tears over that movie, which I still like alot (remember “The Singing Mammoths?”). And then, that fall, we saw MEAN STREETS. What a wild experience…
Tom, I agree to disagree with you on this matter. I just don’t get it: David Bowie spawned a lot of lousy music, CITIZEN KANE inspired a lot of ordinary movies spiced up with deep focus photography and baroque production design, Philip Roth undoubtedly set the template for truckloads of uninteresting “autobiographical” novelists, and none of it is their fault. Speaking of Pauline Kael, I remember reading her on TRUE CONFESSIONS, and referring to De Niro’s “chameleon trance.” I thought at the time, and still think: “Really? That’s all you can muster up?” Boy, was she afraid of the party coming to an end. I never read her essay on Brando. I just know that she wrote beautifully about him elsewhere.
Zach, I think Sir Ridley is the perfect director for the age of package deals and, as you put it so well, “cross-platform entertainments.”
wow I love the point.
Brandon
When bemoaning DeNiro’s projects as of the last decade, I often wonder how much awareness he has of this critical mass of displeasure. Or if he did know, whether he would care. Some actors never watch their own performances (I think DeNiro has said publicly that he rarely does) and just, as someone mentioned, love to act. Some actors probably don’t even care that much about the finished product, especially when they are at a permanently secure place in their career to choose to do or not do whatever they want.
I happen to think he seems to be turning a corner of sorts with his most recent work, but my particular moment of realizing I was disappointed with DeNiro was toward the end of City by the Sea. I remember sitting in the theater thinking, “This James Franco kid is out acting Robert DeNiro!” Though, to be fair, this may have been my fault in confusing the character’s manifestation of internal anguish with just looking constipatedly bored.
When I was young and way-outside-looking-in at the film biz, I used to bemoan the “choices” of certain actors and directors. I couldn’t understand why these talented folks would lend their talents to anything less than masterpieces. It’s almost like I thought every bad film was simply a failure of taste. As if the stars should align for every project – “We’ve got a great script, so we’ll get a great director, and every great actor we want will magically be available!” The reality, of course, is that these folks can only choose from what is offered, and sometimes the choice is the lesser of a number of evils, or the best-paying of several bad options, or the only offer in a lean time. Those who like to work or need the money will always choose to accept something rather than do nothing while waiting for that perfect project. And once you hit a certain age, the likelihood of finding a truly great role that has a chance of getting made is slim to nada, so maybe you take what you can get. Looks like Hackman decided he was comfy enough to just bow out. Others keep plugging away. Matthau needed dough to play the horses, I think. I suspect De Niro just likes to work. My only regret is that a whole generation is coming up that associates him with lame comedies. Luckily, the other stuff is out there and readily available for discovery.
Kent, I think I came into “American Gangster” believing the raw materials—the actual story of Frank Lucas and the great Mark Jacobson pieces about him—were juicy enough that they would be impossible to fuck up. D’oh! Boy, between that and “Love Ranch,” the aughts turned out to be a pretty lousy decade at the movies for Mark, huh? Guess it depends on what you thought of “The Believer.” And of course—for the save!—his droll performance in —what else?—“The Girlfriend Experience…”
Interesting point, J. Bryant. One actor who’s not particularly shy about admitting that he likes to work is, as many of you might have guessed, Christopher Walken. Figures this is his job, likes doing it, and kind of goes where he’s asked. If you know a sufficient number of actors who aren’t getting work, this isn’t so hard to understand. Even with almost thirty years in cultural or entertainment journalism, I can’t claim to be an expert on how any of this stuff works, but it’s astounding to me the assumptions that both ostensibly seasoned people and amateurs will make about how things are done or how actors and directors think. Jeff Wells was commenting on a recent New York TImes article and he observed that if he was in Joel and Ethan Coen’s shoes he’d be pretty ticked off that Michael Cieply and Brooks Barnes compared their film “True Grit” to “The Blind Side.” My answer to that was, well, that’s one of the many reasons that you are NOT in Joel and Ethan Coen’s shoes…because, among other things, the Coens are too busy getting their actual work done to even begin to care about that stuff. Doubtful they’ve even read it.
Back in the 90s, I interviewed Ben Gazzara. We looked at his filmography beforehand and I wound up asking him a question that more or less amounted to a tactful version of “Why did you spend so much of your career making so much crap?” His answer was very clear and concise: “I have a certain lifestyle to which I’ve become accustomed, and which needs to be maintained.” End of story. Everyone has bills to pay, I suppose.
Glenn, the gap between what people think directors think about and what they actually do think about is wider than the Mississippi. I’m not sure if the gap is quite as wide in any other art form.
Ridley Scott’s career is bewildering to me. You have The Duellists, Alien, Blade Runner and Legend, four ravishing films that could almost exist without scripts, clearly made entirely for Ridley’s love of mise-en-scène. Then a couple of bewildering ‘WTF was he thinking about?’ projects, Someone To Watch Over Me and Black Rain. It’s as if the critical and commercial failure of Legend made Ridley take a look at the work of his younger brother and start aping that. Then a return to form with Thelma and Louise and 1492: Conquest of Paradise (Yes, I know i’m the only human being on the planet that likes this film – what can I say? It’s one of the greatest cinema experiences of my life… i’d certainly never seen a ball bounced off the lens before!) But the failure of 1492 and White Squall was where the real Ridley Scott died. After that Scott abandoned his painterly approach to filmmaking and adopted the rapid-fire cutting, multiple-camera coverage-style that has all but destroyed the big-budget mainstream Hollywood picture over the past 10 years. G.I. Jane??? I loved the opening half hour of Gladiator, all slayings in the mud and existential rumination, but it then disintegrated into a third-rate revenge saga with only Oliver Reed there to keep me interested. Hannibal??? Black Hawk Down was overlong but semi-interesting, despite yet another woeful performance from Ewan McGregor. American Gangster, Body of Lies… again these are films Tony Scott should be making (I haven’t seen A Good Life). I do love Kingdom of Heaven, there are so many good things in that film that are almost enough to counter the black hole at the centre of it that is Orloondo Bland. And I enjoyed Robin Hood too, probably because I had been led by most critics to believe it was some kind of cinematic disaster, when it turned out to be just an expertly-helmed slice of old-school adventure filmmaking. In an age where studios deliver their $150 million budgets to incompetents like JJ Abrams, McG, Michael Bay, Brett Ratner and co, my beloved Hack Pack, we shouldn’t be too harsh on Ridley. His upcoming Alien prequel(s) will either restore his reputation to the level of great cinematic artist or condemn him to the level of slumming-it director for hire… sadly with a script by Damon Lindelof and the comments i’ve read about the project so far I fear it will be the latter path Scott will choose. But yeah, a schizophrenic directing career to be sure…
“four ravishing films that could almost exist without scripts” – forgive me, but Sir Ridley himself would undoubtedly have a hearty chuckle if he were to read that.
And I must disagree with markj about JJ Abrams. STAR TREK, one of the crispest and most enjoyable summer movies I’ve seen in a while, did not strike me as the work of an “incompetent.”
I’m extremely late to this party, but let me echo colinr’s invocation of De Niro’s cameo in Brazil – I think it actually hooks up very nicely with Glenn’s “It was De Niro” lead-in. It’s also very of a piece with De Niro’s early De Palma work.