Showing posts with label LA Confidential. Show all posts
Showing posts with label LA Confidential. Show all posts

Monday, November 8, 2010

Love 'em and Leave 'em? A Brief Memory of Russell Crowe.

Have you ever loved a performance so much that your subsequent disinterest in the same actor is actually hard to wrap your head around? That's me when it comes to Russell Crowe.


I love everything about him in L.A. Confidential... but in particular the way he looks at Kim Basinger. God, the way he looks at her. It's just riveting. He easily made my Best Actor shortlist in 1997. For the record it went like so...
  • Russell Crowe, LA Confidential
  • Johnny Depp, Donnie Brasco
  • Christopher Guest, Waiting for Guffman
  • Ian Holm, The Sweet Hereafter *winner*
  • Mark Wahlberg, Boogie Nights
I'd probably rejigger to make Christopher Guest the winner now that it's been 13 years (yes, Guffman arrived in '97 even though it's listed as '96 everywhere) and that performance is still the most hilarious I think I've ever seen.

But I'm veering off topic. Damnit.

Back on. I watched a few key Confidential scenes after reading Craig's Take Three: Kim Basinger this weekend and fell for Crowe's "Bud White" (great character name) all over again. Before L.A. Confidential hit I had only seen him in the Australian movie Proof (1991, not the Gwynnie Paltrow movie -- this one is more interesting) and in the western The Quick and the Dead (1995). And after L.A. I rented another Australian movie The Sum of Us (1994) and also loved him there.

So back in 1997 I assumed he was totally my new favorite actor. He became everyone else's favorite actor (at least for a few years)... but weirdly not mine. Not mine at all. So now when he has a new movie out (like The Next Three Days) it almost doesn't register with me.

<--- Crowe in Proof (1991).

I lost interest so quickly.

Have you ever had that happen to you with an actor / actress that you just really thought was going to be a personal fav? Does it mean that we let external forces get in the way? Does it mean we never loved the actor/actress but just the role they won / did justice to? Or maybe it's a complicated mix of all sorts of things like media saturation, public persona, film choices, personal quirks.

I'd love to hear stories if this has ever happened to you...
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Sunday, November 7, 2010

Take Three: Kim Basinger

Craig here with Take Three. Today: Kim Basinger

Bay•sing•er

I think it’s time again to give Kim Basinger (remember, it's Bay-singer, not Bah-sinjahr, folks) some major credit. The lady's due. She’s gone from supporting eighties female through a love-hate (but Oscar-nabbing) nineties to her current career bloom as a character actress of some depth. Ms Basinger has always quietly impressed me. Here are three reasons why.

Take One: She loooovves purple.

Basinger’s career was birthed alongside the eighties. Feisty ladies in adventurous circumstances were her trade back then. Although through either slip-ups or fate she was often eclipsed by her male co-stars. In Never Say Never Again, The Man Who Loved Women, The Natural, Fool for Love, 9½ Weeks, No Mercy, Blind Date and Nadine she played second-fiddle female to, respectively, Connery, Reynolds, Redford, Shepard, Rourke, Gere, Willis and Bridges. These regulars of male-patterned eighties flicks manned the screen up to prematurely musty proportions, almost disguising Basinger’s versatile verbal retorts, bright mode of re-routing the drama her way and a daffy manner with a throwaway comic moment. She selflessly supported the fellas, but shone when it mattered.

With Tim Burton’s Batman (1989), she was the lone notable lady on set, and her Vicki Vale was more than mere distraction. Having to both glam-up the air around Michael Keaton’s dour-mouthed dark knight and de-glam the air around Nicholson’s garishly impish Joker was task enough. I've not read or heard of much credit being directed Basinger’s way for Batman, but in retrospect she’s to be cheered as a forceful female presence who cajoled Jack the Joker out of his randy advances. Outside of Michelle Pfeiffer’s ace feline-fatale in its first sequel, Basinger is still the only interesting lady in the Bat universe.




"I've just got to know. Are we going to try to love each other?"

Despite the thin characterization -- this comic strip gal is essentially Bruce Wayne’s Lois Lane – it’s a joy to look back at Batman’s first significant onscreen reincarnation and see a lively actress add a sultry playfulness to such a male-centric film.

Take Two: Not very hush-hush about Basinger’s Bracken

If Basinger blended the femme with the fun during the ‘80s, it’s no wonder Curtis Hanson cast her as Veronica Lake-a-like Hollywood hooker Lynn Bracken in 1997’s brooding Hollywood retro-noir L.A. Confidential. (There’s even a photo of Lake on Bracken’s wall and a clip of This Gun for Hire playing on screen.) It was a critical and commercial hit for Basinger after an early ‘90s career dip which saw four more Razzie noms to add to her collection. Her Supporting Actress Oscar win in early 1998, furrowed a few brows and boggled a few minds, as many thought hers was a slight and un-Oscarish role. (In my opinion the line-up that year wasn’t stellar – her only real competition being Julianne Moore for Boogie Nights.)

Basinger’s goods are initially concealed. Her onscreen skill not immediately apparent from the off. When she sways across the screen in a 1950s gown that's both expensive-looking and homely, it's hard to differentiate her from the flowing drapes in her Hollywood home. But it's in her interactions with her co-stars – often lengthy scenes filled with smoothly-delivered dialogue – where she earns every inch of that Oscar. She subtly, but seismically, cuts Pearce, Crowe and co. down to size with little but a withering turn of phrase, topped off with an elegant tilt of her head, before seducing them with implied tension creeping inbetween her spiky lines of dialogue.



She plays Lynn as a soft but sly soul, knowing but as fresh as the day is long. She’s poised and collected in every scene and well-versed in Hollywood style, but it’s all (intentionally) practised. If Basinger studied Lake’s work in preparation, it doesn’t show as onscreen imitation. And, if the research does peek through at times, it doesn’t matter. This actually enhances the performance. That’s who Lynn was – self-styled, only barely visible under the veneer of someone else, someone famous. As she herself said: “I'm really a brunette, but the rest is me.” And, indeed, that’s all the news that’s fit to print.

Take Three: Hot Damn Mama!

In the otherwise lacklustre arthouse awards bait The Burning Plain (2009) Basinger sizzles. She lifts the film out of its self-important stupor, breaking through its prestigiously wrapped exterior whenever she's on screen. As soon as her character Gina enters in her pick-up, the film comes alive. Gina is a New Mexico housewife and mother who secrets herself away to engage in an affair in a trailer with a local family man (Joaquim de Almeida). This mother comes with mastectomy scars and she's finally giving vent to what seems like years of surpressed passion considering her dull, loveless marriage. It's one of the most sorrowful and likeable performances I saw in 2009.

The aching confusion Basinger conveys in one particular scene – where, her secret having been realised by her daughter, she has to be at once the admonishing mother and the shocked, rumbled adulteress, all whilst pinned to her kitchen sink by her child’s accusing gaze – is nothing less than astonishing.


That nervous, twitchy panic that Basinger often falls back on in lesser films – all deflected glances and lips-a-tremble – is skillful here, chimed in pure accordance with Gina’s situation. The hot shame of a mother caught in flagrante delicto has rarely been so maturely rendered on screen; never has Basinger looked so helpless, so in need of sympathetic intervention. Another actress, given to more histrionic outbursts, would've stopped the scene dead and danced over its corpse, but Basinger hits the mark with each awkward gesture. She was excellent elsewhere in the film, but in this one small scene Basinger gave us her character’s entire life. Where was Oscar nom number two?

Three more key films for the taking: My Stepmother Is An Alien (1988), 8 Mile (2002), While She Was Out (2009)

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Birthday Suits: Good Hair, and Good Music.

Celebrating the birthdays of the film-famous. If it's your birthday, we'll sing you a happy one in the comments.

Louise Brooks, Veronica Lake and Josh Duhamel

1906 Louise Brooks, dancer, silent film actress, icon, quotable diva, film critic, memoirist, ...Lost Girl, Lulu. Her hair is legend.
1908 Joseph McCarthy, he saw only Red(s). He's been a villainous figure in movies ever since, whether seen, unseen or fictionalized. See: Guilty by Suspicion, The Way We Were, The Manchurian Candidate, Good Night, and Good Luck. and many more...
1919 Veronica Lake, femme fatale, purveyor of the peek-a-boo bang (her hair also being legend). Kim Basinger didn't even have to get "cut" to look like this goddess in LA Confidential. She just had to sell those glorious blonde waves.
1945 Paul Hirsch, editor of Carrie, Star Wars (Oscar win), Ferris Bueller's Day Off and more...
1951 Zhang Yimou, fine director, awesome goddess worshipper. Think of what he did for both Zhang Ziyi (Hero, The House of Flying Daggers) and Gong Li (Raise the Red Lantern, Ju Dou, Shanghai Triad)
1952 Chris Noonan, writer/director of the wondrous Babe (1995)
1954 Condoleeza Rice, crazy person. Also played crazily by Thandie Newton in W.
1972 Josh Duhamel actor often seen being chased by giant fucking robots and/or Fergie

How is this for a weird coincidence? Leopold Mozart and Johann van Beethoven were both born on this day in the 18th century. They would go on to father enormously important children. Their offspring are none other than immortal and beloved composers Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and Ludwig van Beethoven. There have been countless films about musicians over the years and there will be countless more -- silent purists may argue but music was a good match for the movies -- but in this particular arena will anything ever top Amadeus 's enviable success trifecta: critical/commercial/Oscar?