Cinema: Why I’m Not That Keen on Certain Actors

I have been asked why I don’t think much of some certain film stars. I thought it’d be impossible to explain but then, I thought “Why not?” I’d like to know, too. I do have an idea, but I didn’t bother to explore that idea until now.

Firstly, here’s a sample of actors I’m not keen on:

• Julia Roberts
• Al Pacino
• Katharine Hepburn
• Brad Pitt (I like him and would watch his films any time, even though he regularly competes with certain cast members in his films)
• Gene Kelly
• Harrison Ford (not too bad in his early films)
• Bette Davis (I do like her, though)
• Joan Crawford
• Marlon Brando
• Hilary Swank

My issue with those actors is that they are consistently selfish in their work.

When I watch a film, I see it as a jigsaw. Or rather, the ‘audio-visual structure’ of the film’s script. Everything in the film has a purpose or meaning. Props, the lighting, colour palette, costumes, transport, weather conditions, dialogue, the framing, editing, everything. Occasionally, a director sneaks – or throws – in few codes, about an ideology or as part of their social commentary. There’s no accident in a film. Everything’s calculated.

Everything’s designed to look and feel organic in all aspects (especially the vital two: sight and sound).while hiding the calculation of it all. This means every single thing within a decent film has its place, so it’s everybody’s job to make each work without destroying the audience’s suspension of belief and compromising all major aspects of the ultimate plan.

All this to ensure that when the story progresses, all these components will (or should) eventually come together – and fit well – as a completed jigsaw puzzle that reveals the full picture. It’s pure heaven when that happens.

It’s frustrating when one piece or two don’t fit with other pieces well. It could be poor direction (an inability to control some notoriously chaotic elements, such as actors, or done in a style that deserves to be shot), miscasting, shoddy performances, poorly chosen locations, poor editing, bad soundtrack, etc. that stuck out like a crap nail in a wall. One of those may bother some more than the others while it’s something else for the rest.

Three of those above that I can’t handle well: weak scripts, bad editing, and – at top of my list – selfish actors.

A typical selfish actor doesn’t give a fuck about the script, cast members, dynamics and such. They use every trick of their profession to ensure the focus will be always on them, however short a scene might be, or to undermine cast members’ efforts within a scene.

Here’s a classic example of what a selfish actor does. Let’s call her Jane, who plays a police detective, and she’s in a scene with two actors who play Brenda the waitress (and Jane’s former school friend) and Max the manager, respectively. The scene takes place in a bristo. The script calls for Jane to say nothing but drink coffee in the background of Brenda and Max’s scene. So imagine this scene below as an one-take shot (a single shot, no cut/break):

Brenda pours coffee into Jane’s mug when Max, walking past her, casually informs her that there’s a change in her work schedule. She has to work late tonight. Brenda isn’t happy because she has a date that night. Max tells her, “Tough shit.”

She sets her coffee pot down on Jane’s table and turns to Max, arguing that he is being unfair. Max snorts and eye-rolls as he crosses his arms. Jane at the table fiddles with her blouse sleeve and checks her wristwatch. Max wags a finger at Brenda’s face, telling her how bad she’s at waitressing. Brenda gasps in outrage. “How can you say that? I’ve worked here for six years! Since I was 15!” Jane rubs her chin as she leans back in her chair. “Stop treating me like a child!” Brenda shouts as she slaps Max’s wagging finger away.

Max shouts angrily, threatening to fire Brenda as she begins to take her waitress’s apron off. Jane discreetly moves her mug of coffee away from them. “You know what?” Max shouts as he waves a fist at Brenda. “I don’t need you any more. You can get the hell out of here now.” Brenda gasps. Jane’s eyebrows arch in surprise as she gazes at the mug in her hands on table. Brenda throws her apron at Max’s chest. “This place will fall around your ears when I’m gone. And you’ll be so sorry.” Max snorts. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry. I’ll find your replacement tomorrow. Someone prettier and smarter.” Brenda chokes in outrage and pushes him aside as she storms past.

Jane’s friend arrives through the entrance door as Brenda runs past him, crying loudly. Friend glances around in surprise and sees Jane. Going to her table he asks “What’s up with Brenda?” Jane gives a small shoulder shrug. “Same old story. So… what you got?” Friend sits and announces he’s found out where Villain is hiding. [cut]

To us, it’s just a transition scene between two major scenes. A waitress isn’t happy with her boss. They have a row. She storms out. Yay, Jane’s friend has finally arrived. Now we can get on with the plot. No big deal.

However, to scriptwriters, directors, actors and the others, they are likely to think: “About that actor who plays Jane? I’d kick her arse if she dared to do that on my turf!”

Why? Jane did all these quiet, subtle movements – fiddling, leaning back, facial expressions in a scene that has nothing to do with her. All are designed to distract audience’s attention from cast members’ performances and the purpose of that scene. Either to keep the focus on her or to undermine cast members’ efforts.

Those movements are fine when the actor is part of a scene, but not when isn’t. It’s akin to this real-life scenario: a fairy ballet dancer gives a solemn performance with a row of green elves sitting behind her. While she pours her soul into her performance, we audience see one of those elves pulling faces and sticking tongue out at us, the audience. That’s what a selfish actor does in a scene. Not so obvious, true, but that’s the whole point. Subtlety is the main element.

Ideally, directors would put a stop to it, but they are often too busy to notice the details. Sometimes it’s done so subtly that they don’t see it until it’s too late to call for another take.

This kind of thing is particularly notable in films made during certain actors’ rising statuses. They had obviously learnt tricks of the trade around that time. They all eventually learnt to tone it down (usually when critics via reviews accused them of hamming it up) before they felt secure enough to stop needing those tricks any more.

Of course, they use those tricks again when their careers decline, or when they feel threatened by cast members who they think are trying to steal their limelight (I’m looking at you, Harrison Ford and Al Pacino).

And of course, there are actors who do it to steal bigger names’ limelight.

I’m looking at you, Brad Pitt. Ocean’s 11 with your eating in scenes with George Clooney, Fight Club with your fidgeting in scenes with Edward Norton (but not in those with Helena Bonham Carter), etc. He got away with all that all these years because he did it with a such style and charm that critics forgave him. Feck, even I forgave him. I think he’s made it clear that, through his body of works, he wouldn’t do it if he felt it was upsetting his cast members. He left all those tricks out of that IRA film with Harrison Ford, who’s a notorious hater of anyone who’d dare to do it on “his turf” (presumably because the only one who can do that is himself).

Comedy film actors are a different breed altogether, though.

They all seem to constantly and actively compete with each other – often done to help each other out to make them even better – while ensuring the perfect comic timing. Most seem to thrive on competitiveness and rivalry. I can’t even go there because their stamina, skills and all are too fantastic and complex for me to handle, let alone form an opinion. So yeah, remember that: comedy film actors are in a league of their own. Moving on.

Sometimes, actors who aren’t usually selfish did it now and then. Particularly to actors they don’t like, or to actors they respect and know well. There are some who encourage it. There is an English character actor — actually, I’m not sure if I could name him. He’s never publicised his trade secrets. Hm. Yeah, let’s not name him, to be on the safe side.

This English character actor encourages his cast members to be as selfish as they want when they are in scenes with him. He thrives on this because he apparently feels it helps him to crystallise his focus and (I think) control. I’m not sure how control works in this aspect. I don’t know much about acting, so to actors among you, you’ll probably know what he’s talking about. If you do, please explain!

Anyway, I don’t mind that type if it’s done occasionally. It can be healthy in the name of honing skills. Basically, in my rule book: “Don’t do it too often or you’re off my list.”

I do have to admit it can be quite fun to watch when it happens. Especially openly selfish actors, who understand and respect professionalism. It can be such a comedy show sometimes.

Let’s take Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? (starring Joan Crawford and Bette Davis) as an example. How they tried to upstage each other is hilarious.

Bette did it so blatantly that all Joan could do was control her reactions, e.g. she did her best not to scratch Bette’s eyes out. The fact their characters were Jane and Blanche – ageing sisters who loathe each other since their days as child actors (Olivia de Havilland and Joan Fontaine, anyone?) – had made it easier for them to disguise all their attempts to fuck with each other.

Here is a YouTube link to a WHTBJ? scene where they both subtly manipulated elements to upstage each other while protecting their trademarks. Pay attention to these bits:

 

1:20–1:45 – This is where Bette purposely prolongs a natural pause in dialogue. You really can see Joan thinking (at around 1:37): “My character is angelic so I must look angelic, but fuck you for trying to throw my pacing off here, Bette!”

I’m not making this up. You can see it throughout the film. All those flash looks of irritation from Joan whenever the pacing of Bette’s line delivery gets a bit off-kilter.

2:10–2:30 – Note Bette’s hands while Joan does her dialogue. You could see (after Joan turned her wheelchair round) how Joan’s shoulders tensed slightly when she spotted Bette’s thumb-wiggling.

You think it’s all Bette? Nope. Take note of the lighting.

[Note: I'm avoiding terminology because I think it's no fun to figure out what this or that term is - such as broad light, shattered, rim light, kelvin, low angle key, accent light, spot light, etc. - while reading this. I'll use them next time if it's not a problem, though.]

There’s no shadow across Joan’s face. Not even once. This is her trademark. And everyone knew she’d kill any cast member who dared to cast a shadow on her face, accidentally or not.

Watch this bit at around 0:50 to see what happens when Bette walks past Joan to go toward a window. Still don’t see it?

Then, look at this part at around 0:10 where Bette walks toward Joan. Look at her shadow when she walks. It falls against a wall and a dresser. See this screen shot for a better look:

This shows one main source is located high in the far-left corner and one in the left corner, and one at below on the right. The  rest are directly above.

And when Bette walks past Joan, there should be Bette’s shadow on Joan’s face but instead, there’s a shadow on Joan’s chest. (I tried to capture the moment when Bette walks past her, but I kept missing the moment. Pretend Bette is walking past, okay?)

This shows the light in the right corner had been lowered and diffused. The rest of other sources focus on Joan’s face. The dead giveaway is the hardness of that shadow. It’s really dense and heavy, which shows that the crew worked hard to avoid casting a shadow on Joan’s face without compromising the consistency of earlier shots. If Joan wasn’t that fussy, the shadow would be less hard due to having another light to diffuse or remove that shadow.

What’s the big deal? you ask. This is when it becomes evil and so hilarious.

Throughout this scene from the start to the end, Bette has occasionally and purposely allowed the lighting to cast shadows on her face and often, in an unflatteringly way. Officially, this is to make her character grotesque – an overgrown child star - but unofficially, she did this to fuck with Joan Crawford’s head.

How so?

The idea is that when Joan looks at Bette and sees all those shadows on Bette’s face, she’d get so paranoid – about whether there were any on her own face – that it’d shatter her concentration on acting. Bette knew Joan was fiercely protective of her trademark so she used it to manipulate Joan’s insecurity. Ooh evil of you, Bette.

In another scene, not available on YouTube unfortunately, which had Joan and Bette sharing a poignant moment that for a moment had them feeling connected with each other. That’s what we audience are expected to see. But to the rest? It’s obvious that during this scene, Joan had quietly but completely fucked with Bette’s head.

Bette in real life had an issue with people touching her hands and had rarely allowed cast members to touch her hands. She would do it if the script called for it, but that’s a rarity. Joan knew all this.

Throughout this scene of Bette sharing a painful recollection, Joan subtly and constantly touched Bette’s hands. Seeing how Bette grimly clung to her determination to do her job without answering her primitive need to slap Joan silly is painfully funny. Her professionalism in this scene won me over, to be honest.

It’s also funny how their attempts to outdo each other – while we do our best to figure out which bits are acting and which aren’t – completely overshadows the story itself. The line between fiction and fact does blur in this film. Heh! They were truly amazing with all this elegant dancing on a very thin line between professionalism and unprofessionalism.

Bette crossed the line occasionally, true, but that was her. She had always been ruthlessly honest, so she slipped up now and then. Joan Crawford, on the other hand, wasn’t honest at all, so she was better at being – I don’t know – more conniving with her bag of tricks. She was scarily good, regardless. Their first priority was professionalism bar none. That deserves respect from us.

That’s a difference between Professional Selfish Actors and Unprofessional Selfish Actors. I tolerate professional selfish actors far better than I could with the unprofessional ones, which is probably why I love actors like Bette Davis while I can’t stand actors like Julia Roberts.

Of course, there are actors who are extremely lucky enough to have screen charisma. They can’t help it. They can stand utterly still while something goes on in a scene and yet, our attention cannot help but be drawn to that charismatic actor. Rare, but they exist.

Judy Garland was an oddity. She swung between generous and selfish in her early films, but when she became an acclaimed star, she relied on the others to carry her through. In a way, it’s as if she’d guilt-tripped her cast members into doing all they can to make her shine. She was so needy, fragile and dependent that one would feel guilty if one didn’t help her out. That’s the main reason why I generally don’t enjoy watching Judy Garland’s films. She tends to make me feel uncomfortable. She was charismatic, though.

Whether I like them or not is irrelevant, because they all are still miles ahead of mediocre actors. Such as Katharine Hepburn. I think it’s her charisma and charm that won her an army of fans.  Some say she’s also a good actress, but I’m sceptical.

I felt Hepburn was better at comedy acting than dramatic acting. I thought she was great in romantic comedy films, but not so great in dramatic films. I felt she knew this well enough to undermine the others’ efforts to save herself. it cropped up again and again and again through her impressively long career. I found it annoying and disrespectful. Unfair? Feel free to list films that showcase her skills well.

It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t watch their films. I’d eye-roll when they use a trick or two, but yeah. Well actually, I can’t watch a Julia Roberts film. I can’t stand her clumsy attempts to undermining her cast members. She’s been working for how long? 10 years? 15? And she still hasn’t managed to hone her skills. Make it more subtle, damn it! *headdesk*

Oh, about that real-life scenario of a fairy ballet dancer and a green elf I mentioned earlier? My cousin was that dancer and I was the elf. I did it to show her up. For your information, we were eight.  She sure did give me a proper beating afterwards, though.