The film stars Oscar winners Kate Winslet, Christoph Waltz, and Jodie Foster and co-stars Oscar nominee John C. Reilly. Aside from a brief scene at its beginning and end, a cameo from the director and a few voices heard over the phone, those four constitute the film’s entire cast.

Its story focuses on two sets of parents who come together to discuss a fight between their sons. Reilly and Foster play Michael and Penelope Longstreet, the parents of the victim in the fight, while Waltz and Winslet play Alan and Nancy Cowan, the assailant’s parents. The concept is simple: these four parents spend the film discussing the incident that left the Longstreet’s son with two teeth knocked out of his mouth and several facial abrasions.

What’s interesting about “Carnage” is how that confrontation becomes so meaningless during the course of this film’s short running time -  eighty-nine minutes. The fight between the boys was simply that: a fight between two boys. It was simple and easy to analyze.

The battle between the four adults about the incident and its aftermath is not so easily understood.

While children fight with sticks, these parents use more impressive weapons. Penelope engages in battle with her rhetorically-elitist mindset. She uses loaded language like “deliberately,” “armed” and “disfigured” to stupefy the opposing parents. Nothing is simple with her. A short remark from her can carry the rhetorical ammunition of a dozen men.

On the other hand, Michael is a laid-back fellow who sells hardware for a living. He’s easy to get along with and very accommodating to the two guests. But he does have an angry side to him, a deviousness in him. When he became annoyed with the family hamster, he left it on the street to die without telling his wife or children.

The Cowans are more agreeable than the Longstreet’s but no less restrained as the story proceeds. Nancy is refined and kind, except when pushed. Alan, on the other hand, is a previously-divorced businessman who has no qualms about calling his own son a “maniac.”

If watching a character study of four people arguing doesn’t appeal to it, I would suggest you avoid this movie. It is, however, an intriguingly verbose film about the battles that we engage in as adults that aren’t so different from the playground fights that children participate in.

“Carnage,” as an experiment in filmmaking, might not have worked in the hands of a lesser filmmaker. Polanski, though, does a fine job with it taking a simple story about the relationship between these four adults and adding complex levels to it. There are times when the plot meanders and several silly occasions when the Cowans almost leave but never actually do. Overall, though, “Carnage” is a thoughtful and intelligent film abut the battles we engage in.

Battles that can do more damage than a simple jab from an “armed” teenage assailant.

Gibson plays Walter Black, a hopelessly depressed man, whose level of self-loathing has forced his wife, Meredith (Jodie Foster), to kick him out of the house.  In a drunken haze, Walter find a beaver hand-puppet in a dumpster and takes it to his hotel.  Walter attempts suicide in a moment of desperation, but is put off by the cockney accented voice of the beaver puppet, which proclaims is out to save his life.  Hiding behind his newfound beaver puppet persona, he returns to life with confidence and swagger, though it causes confusion and frustration to those closest to him.  Meanwhile, Walter’s awkward son, Porter (Anton Yelchin), makes money writing papers for kids a school.  When the silently troubled head cheerleader at his school (Jennifer Lawrence) approaches him to write her graduation speech, he’s forced to face his own family issues while trying to help her tackle her own demons as well.

The Beaver has one of the most bizarre, interesting, and beautiful performances of Mel Gibson’s career.  The vast majority of the film is spent with the actor in beaver-mode, as he skillfully belts out a cockney accent, along with perfect puppeteering to go with it.  One could be forgiven for mistaking Mel’s accent for the voice of Ray Winstone.  Gibson hides behind the puppet in what seems to be a defense mechanism in the movie’s toughest scenes, even when the film delves into truly strange territory, the man sells everything that’s going on with his performance.

Where The Beaver falters slightly is in the subplot with Porter.  This portion of the movie is where it gets a bit too indie-cute, as Porter obsesses over the tics and mannerisms he shares with his father and posts them on his wall.  His relationship with Jennifer Lawrence’s former street-artist turned valedictorian cheerleader rings false on paper, though Yelchin and Lawrence do a great job of selling this silly concept, which somehow seems more implausible than the idea of a grown man communicating through a beaver hand-puppet.

As far as the special features go, the Blu-ray offers a commentary track by Jodie Foster, two deleted scenes with optional commentary, and a short making-of documentary.  When it comes to supplements, the main thing I want is a commentary track, unfortunately all commentaries are not created equal.  Older films and releases from Criterion often have interesting and insightful commentaries to go with them, however commentaries for newer movies are often recorded before the film is released.  What you usually get is a track that has the filmmakers and actors still in press-junket mode, they haven’t gained the distance from the film to properly talk about it, as the movie hasn’t had a life with the audience yet.  Foster’s commentary track isn’t worthless like these tracks usually are, but it’s not terribly insightful beyond a few interesting tidbits about the performances and production design.  Those expecting Foster to talk about Gibson’s personal life need not apply, as it is never brought up, which is to be expected.

The making-of is a standard, short-form doc that explores various elements of the movie quickly and efficiently.  It’s the sort of promo documentary you expect from new movies, it has a few cool bits to impart but doesn’t really enhance the movie.  I’ve never been a fan of deleted scenes, usually they’re sliced out for a reason, and here it’s easy to see why they were cut.  The commentary by Foster on them briefly explains why they were cut, though she never calls them what they truly are: bad scenes.  But who can blame her?

The Beaver is one of those interesting-yet-flawed oddities, one I’d recommend to everyone with a big asterisk.  The presence of Mel Gibson will no doubt put off most, given how his popularity has fallen like a stone lately.  I would ask those who boycott the work of Gibson to ask themselves if they have no problem watching the films of Roman Polanski.  If the answer is “yes,” then congratulations, you’re a morally inconsistent person, and it’s time to rethink and  realign that moral compass when it comes to your pop-culture consumption.  Love him or hate him, Gibson’s performance in this movie says a lot about him in terms of where he is in his career.  It’ll be interesting to see where he goes from here, if anywhere at all.

Available on Blu-ray and DVD

Other Noteworthy Releases

The Greatest Movie Ever Sold: Morgan Spurlock returns with another documentary where he is the center of attention, rather than the subject he is supposedly documenting.  The idea of financing a movie purely on product placement while calling attention to the role of advertising in media is a rich one, but Spurlock’s movies never go deeper than his affable hipster personality.

Available on Blu-ray and DVD

Troll Hunter: This foreign fantasy/horror faux-documentary has gotten some great buzz, while found footage movie are everywhere today, somehow throwing giant trolls in the mix colors me interested.

Available on Blu-ray and DVD

Win Win: Starring Paul Giamatti, this is the new film by Tom McCarthy, the guy known for understated dramas like The Station Agent and The Visitor.  Christian Toto gave it a postive review.

Available on Blu-ray and DVD

Blitz: Jason Statham teams up with Paddy Considine in this gritty buddy-cop film.

Available on Blu-ray and DVD

Swingers: The indie cult classic comes to Blu-ray, not that I feel the urge to see it in high-def.  I love this movie, but I’ll hang on to my DVD.

Available on Blu-ray

Rounders: John Dahl’s card-sharp movie starring Matt Damon and Edward Norton is an underrated late-nineties offering well worth seeing.  It comes out on Blu-ray this week.

Available on Blu-ray

Secret Sunshine: South Korean cinema has been getting a lot of notice on the international stage lately, however it’s mostly the genre flicks like Oldboy and The Good, The Bad, The Weird that get all the buzz.  This nuanced drama by Lee Chang-Dong is a welcome change of tone in terms of what we’re getting from South Korea on our side of the Pacific.  Available from Criterion.

Available on Blu-ray and DVD

The Warped World of Koreyoshi Kurahara: This box set of Kurahara’s work is being released under Criterion’s Eclipse imprint.  This collects the director’s eclectic output from the sixties, which included his adaptation of Yukio Mishima’s Thirst For Love.

Available on DVD

Roger Corman’s Cult Classics – Sword and Sorcery Collection: This set includes four eighties sword & sorcery flicks produced by Corman, including Deathtalker, Deathstalker II, Barbarian Queen, and The Sorceress & The Barbarian Queen.

Available on DVD

Roger Corman’s Cult Classics – Women in Cages: Corman was well known for producing these sorts of odd sexploitation movies, this set includes The Big Bird Cage, Big Doll House, and Women in Cages.  The first two were directed by Jack Hill, who was known for doing fun blaxploitation movies like Coffy and Foxy Brown.

Available on Blu-ray and DVD

This post originally appeared over at Parcbench

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Gibson’s character is Walter Black, the successful—or once-successful—CEO of a New York toy company. Walter is being crushed to the ground by clinical depression and has just about given up hope. He’s tried some desperate therapies—from drum circles to self-flagellation—but now maintains on heavy meds. At work he’s a zombie; his staff is demoralized and profits are down. At home he spends most of his time in bed, smothering his pain in sleep. His loyal wife, Meredith (Jodie Foster), has stuck by him; but while the youngest of their two sons, Henry (Riley Thomas Stewart), still loves his dad, the oldest, teenage Porter (the excellent Anton Yelchin), has turned away in contempt.

Rooting around in some castoff junk one day, Walter finds an old hand puppet, a cute, nubbly beaver. When Meredith finally reaches the end of her marital tether and tells him to move out of the house, Walter takes the beaver with him. Checking into a motel, he gets drunk in his room and suddenly hears a voice: “Oi!” The Cockney accent is familiar, and at first we wonder if Walter has suddenly been joined by Michael Caine. But no—it’s the beaver. “I’m here to save your goddamned life,” says the puppet, no longer quite so cute.

Read the full review here.

And the shrill and very vocal faction of the homosexual community cried foul at not only his portrayal, but of the portrayal of homosexuals in “The Silence of the Lambs.” GLAAD led a protest of “Basic Instinct” before the movie had even wrapped principal photography, and the controversy continued when Tri-Star released the picture during so-called Awards Season in 1992.

The nominees:

“J.F.K.” – Great filmmaking and mythmaking.

“The Silence of the Lambs” – The winner, released all the way back in February of 1991, and a genuine crowd pleaser.

“Beauty and the Beast” – I’m not saying it’s a bad movie, but it’s inclusion smacks of tokenism, as in, “There. We nominated an animated movie. Now leaves us alone.”

“Bugsy” – Another good movie, but I remember thinking, “If this gangster movie wins after ‘Goodfellas’ lost, I’ll threaten a boycott like my gay friends did.”

“The Prince of Tides” – The stink here was that Babs wasn’t nominated for best director. It had to have stung that Ridley Scott was nominated instead for directing “Thelma & Louise,” a wrongly politicized road movie about two women on the run from the law. Babs also missed out on scoring one for women when John Singleton was nominated for “Boyz N The Hood.” The irony, I guess, is that all these years later, both “The Prince of Tides” and “Boyz N The Hood” feel like TV movies.

What should have been nominated:

“Terminator 2: Judgment Day” – A bullet, from beginning to end, and one of the great action movies of all time.

“Cape Fear” – Pure over-the-top, preposterous escapism. But I can’t get enough of it.

“What About Bob?” – I’m sailing!

“J.F.K.” – Mostly I love how actors pop up in often bizarre characters who are in only one or two scenes and just knock it out of the park. Like Kevin Bacon, John Candy, and Joe Pesci.

“The Silence of the Lambs” – More pure escapism, expertly crafted, scary, tense, and just plain awesome. It deserved every award it won and more.

There are many, many things to love about Jonathan Demme’s adaptation of the novel by Thomas Harris. Of course the screenplay and performances are great. And in refusing to allow Clarice Starling (Jodie Foster) to ever give a big speech about how difficult it is to be a woman in a man’s world, the film gives us no choice but to side with her. Make no mistake about it, the movie is in many ways about how difficult it is to be a woman in the world of law enforcement, but Demme shows us this instead of having his characters hammer it home with dialogue. Demme’s pacing is just right, the movie builds and builds, a creeping sense of dread increasing with every scene as the stakes are constantly raised.

When we meet Clarice in the movie’s opening scenes, it’s obvious she feels she has a lot to prove. We’re not told exactly why she feels this way until fairly late in the movie, but it’s a feeling that pervades every scene in dialogue and in the way Demme, working with Director of Photography Tak Fujimoto, frames his shots. When Clarice first meets Jack Crawford (Scott Glenn), the head of the FBI’s Behavioral Sciences division, they exchange pleasantries over traditional two shots and over the shoulder shots. As Crawford settles in behind his desk, and Clarice across from him, again, Clarice is framed over Jack’s shoulder, which establishes her eye line for the scene. But when Demme cuts to Jack’s close-up, he’s looking dead ahead, his eyes boring into Clarice — and us. When Demme cuts to Clarice’s close-up, the camera is directly in front of her, but she maintains the eye line she established in the previous over-the-shoulder shot. In this scene, Demme establishes a pattern and establishes a first person point of view that puts us inside Clarice’s head and defines the hunt for Buffalo Bill as Clarice’s personal crusade.

The plot of course concerns the serial killer Buffalo Bill (Ted “I’ll Take This Part But Give Me a Month to Completely Transform My Looks Or I’ll Never Act Again” Levine), so named because he skins his victims. Over thirty minutes pass before we ever meet Buffalo Bill, but the hunt is on in the form of an “interesting errand.” Crawford gets the crazy/brilliant idea that maybe the infamous serial killer Hannibal “The Cannibal” Lecter (Anthony Hopkins) will help profile Bill, but only if he’s given the right motivation. Clarice twice interviews him, and while he sees right through the ruse, he sees something in Clarice and agrees to play ball — on his terms. He knows Crawford and Clarice will have to play ball, because Buffalo Bill will undoubtedly soon find his next victim.

In minor stroke of genius, the victim, Catherine Martin (Brooke Smith), is introduced driving alone, singing “American Girl” by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, drumming on the steering wheel as the camera pulls back from a close up and holds for a moment before pushing back to a close up again. Demme cuts to his first shot of Buffalo Bill, wearing night vision goggles. As he turns them on for a glimpse of Catherine, the goggles hum and whir creepily, and moments later — the stakes increase.

There are no slow moments, and we’re never given a chance to question the absurdity of Buffalo Bill’s bizarre plan or his ridiculous ritual involving exporting moths, both of which could have seriously felt contrived and could have caused the movie to completely collapse. Instead, the whole thing builds to not one but two incredible fake outs, neither of which feel like director’s cheats.

Thinking about “The Silence of the Lambs” reminds me what it used to be like to see a movie in the packed theater, the audience drawn to the movie just because of a good trailer and a great cast. Sure, the book was popular and no doubt its fans showed up, but it wasn’t an eagerly anticipated adaptation with a ton of hype.  There was no Comic Con buzz, no negative buzz; we did not know what to expect. People screamed at scary moments, laughed at the humorous moments — a true collective, shared experience. We were putty in Demme’s hands. Finally, I remember the finale, in which Clarice is trapped, alone with Buffalo Bill, and he turns out the lights. The hum and whir of the night vision goggles swells on sound, and some dude eight rows up and to my right bellowed what we all were thinking: “Ohhhhhhhhhhhh, shit!” And everyone laughed, nervously.

There used to be more experiences like that at the movies. It wasn’t an anomaly–it happened all the time. Does it happen at all anymore?

As for the criticisms and purported homophobia…huh? Stung, Demme next directed “Philadelphia,” an exercise in political correctness that garnered Tom Hanks the first of his two Academy Awards.  But “The Silence of the Lambs” will probably forever be his masterpiece.

—–

Welcome to today’s edition of Hollywood Values:

Mel Gibson goes on a racist tirade and becomes a Hollywood pariah whose career is pretty much over. So over that he’s kicked off of ”Hangover 2″ and HuffPo feels the need to run polls like this.

Fair enough…

Meanwhile, Roman Polanski, a child rapist who fled from justice, is currently in accolade Heaven over a pretty marginal movie and already gearing up for his next one.

And no, we will never stop reminding Hollywood of this.

As far as this particular trailer for “The Beaver” (spring 2011) goes, it tells the story of the entire movie.

Beginning, middle, end…

Why see the movie?

The raving left-wingers at Salon, however, have decided that Foster’s loyalty to the embattled Gibson not only warrants criticism (fair enough) but an entire Orwellian “rethink” (their chilling word, not mine) of her as a human being and as an actress. In a piece subtitled, The movie icon continues to go to bat for her embattled friend. Maybe it’s time to rethink the acclaimed actress, Salon writer, Mary Elizabeth Williams, unsheathes the long knives of the New Blacklist:

The time has come to admit it — Jodie Foster is not all that. …

Yet even when she’s not aligning herself with rageaholics and fugitives, Foster’s cinematic track record is something of a head scratcher. Her powerhouse glory days of movies like “The Accused” and “Silence of the Lambs” are now two decades in the past. She did a neat turn in “Inside Man,” but “Flight Plan,” “Panic Room” and “Nim’s Island” doesn’t exactly amount to a stunning body of recent work. (And if you want to blame it on her age, note that Laura Linney, Joan Allen, Hope Davis, Patricia Clarkson, Mary Louise Parker and a slew of other actresses of Foster’s generation seem able to find challenging, award baiting roles in quality films.) Foster can pick and choose. And often, she chooses dreck. …

She’s made a string of forgettable to downright offensive movies. And she thinks Mel Gibson is “incredibly loved.” So why are organizations like Elle handing her accolades? Why are fans, especially women, especially women who fell in love with her sometime around “Bugsy Malone” not coming out and saying, she is no longer our role model?

We shouldn’t be surprised by this. After all, this is the same publication that was so freaked out over “Secretariat” being openly marketed to we churchy types that one of the nicest things they screamed at it was “master race!”

THIS is how the new blacklist works. It’s not enough to criticize Foster for standing by a Hollywood pariah, but through the use of an article posted on their widely read website (especially in Hollywood) that ”rethinks” who she is as a human being and attempts to memory-hole — “rethink” – her entire legacy as an artist, Salon has set out to punish and make an example of Foster’s apostasy regarding Gibson to others. The message is clear: stay on the Artistic Thought-Plantation or this will happen to you.

The mistake the writer makes is in admitting that her “rethink” was prompted solely by Foster’s defense of Gibson. In other words, Foster would still rank as ”all that” if not for her unfortunate act of independent thought. There’s certainly nothing wrong with making a case that a particular artist has earned a place in the Hall of the Overrated (Meryl Streep, anyone?), but to base that theory on an act of politically incorrectery is not only the height of intellectual dishonesty, it’s downright cruel.

Finally, and most unforgivably, Ms. Williams bullies Jodie Foster because she’s a lesbian who prefers to keep her private life private:

Perhaps the oddest thing about Foster, however, is how she continues to be lauded as an icon. Aside from publicly thanking “my beautiful Cydney who sticks with me through all the rotten and the bliss” three years ago, she’s steadfastly never acknowledged her personal life or relationships, which, frankly, for somebody of her power and influence, is pretty cowardly.

If Foster were a straight woman living a quiet life instead of a gay woman living a quiet life, Ms. Williams would’ve said none of this. But based solely on Foster’s personal sexuality, Ms. Williams bullies her as “odd” and “cowardly” into living her life the way Salon writers think she should.

There’s more than one way to bully a homosexual and questioning their bravery and hard-earned status as an icon because they choose to live a quiet, dignified life, sure counts in my book. 

Gee, isn’t that what the Left always accuses Christian Fundamentalists of doing; questioning the humanity of others and shaming those (specifically homosexuals) who don’t live their lives in a particular way?

The Left is losing on every front and since they can’t beat us they’re purging within their own ranks in order to regain some sense of power and control. First they came for Juan Williams, then they came for Jodie Foster… And let the record show that it’s we “intolerant” right-wingers who are standing up and fighting for both.

As often as not, you can expect to fork over $20-$40 at the theater expecting to laugh, cry, and be entertained. . .

. . . only to find yourself trapped in a widescreen, 3D, surround sound, stadium-seated liberal indoctrination chamber.

With TV, you can dedicate months and years to becoming a dedicated fan of a series. . .

. . . only to suddenly start getting lectured on what creeps you and your family are by dint of your politics/religion/gender/race/fill-in-the-blank.

Closing in on two years patrolling the mean streets, Big Hollywood already has dozens of posts that document these lies, cheap shots, and propaganda in grim detail. Amidst the cultural carnage conservatives step ever more gingerly, sifting through the rubble for scraps worth investing in.

One way most of us navigate this minefield is by discerning which actors — big, well-known, picture-opening actors — are worth trusting on name alone. No one has a perfect record, but the best gain our confidence by routinely choosing projects that hew to some modicum of quality, decency, and fair play. You may not agree with the underlying message or political slant of their movies, but that’s not the point — it’s completely possible for conservatives to love great liberal movies and vice versa. Rather, these actors convince us over the course of their careers that they aren’t likely to sucker punch their fans, or to embarrass their country, profession, or family by allowing politics and prejudices to tarnish their public reputations and filmed entertainments.

Often, as famous as they are, we know little about their lives off the screen, as it should be. Largely free from the constant scandal that runs through Tinseltown like a river of raw sewage, their usually leftist personal politics matter little. It’s their class, humility, humanity, and self-deprecating humor — along with their choice of projects in which to display them — that count.

How many such actors are out there, living and working today? People whose name on a marquee or DVD cover not only doesn’t raise your hackles, but palpably makes you relax, secure in the knowledge that — with their name attached — you are unlikely to be ideologically jumped and browbeaten in exchange for giving them some of your precious time and money? Actors that you may not agree with, but whom you nevertheless trust, both with your money and your cinematic hopes and dreams?

Here’s my own highly subjective Top 5, from youngest to oldest:

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Denzel Washington (b. 1954)

Our modern Brando, the guy who can infuse every role with the gravitas of Shakespeare. He’s also, by far, our most versatile A-list thespian, playing military men, slaves, detectives, convicts, lawyers, loving fathers, gangster kingpins, and angels with equal force, panache, and believability. Time and again his performances address hot-button debates without alienating half of his audience with shallow, dehumanizing propaganda. Conservatives, liberals, white, black, young, old, Christian, Muslim — by turns he’s done right by all of them.

_____

Jeff Bridges (b. 1949)

He could so easily have been the spoiled brat 90210 son of a semi-famous actor, but in project after project he’s refused to sell out to the ego-driven temptations of stardom. An actor who doesn’t put on the pose so many do of never watching his own movies or caring overmuch about them, and a liberal who is laid back and worldly enough to not shove his deeply-felt personal politics down his audience’s collective throat. Bridges has memorably played everything from a hippie slacker to a small-town Texas teenager to an sinister comic book mogul to a sensitive alien to a washed-up country music star to the President of the United States, without me ever thinking that he was acting for only his side of the political aisle at my side’s expense.

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Morgan Freeman (b. 1937)

Dignity is the word that pops into mind. What actor is better at taking lazy parts that in lesser hands almost always end up as crude, politically correct Hollywood stereotypes — pimps, chauffeurs, slaves, and “magic minority wise man” characters among them — and imbuing them with contradictions, surprises, and thus humanity? And how many are then capable of running off to play God, or the President of the United States, or the benevolent head of a large corporation without missing a step? Freeman’s the kind of guy who is capable of being outspoken against the Iraq War even as he plays a key role in The Dark Knight.

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Robert Duvall (b. 1931)

Bob Duvall played the hapless Major Frank Burns in M*A*S*H, the napalm-sniffing, village-incinerating Lt. Col. Kilgore in Apocalypse Now, and the tormented and abusive career marine/father in The Great Santini. So why don’t we condemn him as a habitual slimer of our military as we would with so many others? Because this lifelong Republican, Christian and (like Freeman) veteran isn’t holding them (or through them, us) up for ridicule, he’s playing characters who harbor traits that are heroic and noble as well as outrageous and crude. They’re flawed human beings, not cardboard caricatures or straw men, and that’s what we come to the theater to see.

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Clint Eastwood (b. 1930)

I’ve grown increasingly leery about Eastwood as a director, but I still trust him implicitly as an actor. Over a long and storied career, his roles have represented what, when boiled down, is the only thing we really ask of Hollywood: to let characters on screen that filmmakers disagree with politically do right by their own standards even as the filmmakers criticize them using their own. From role to role Clint’s veered left and he’s veered right, but you never get the feeling that he’s taking cheap shots against anyone — in his next film he’s just as likely to be sympathetically portraying someone on the other side of the political/cultural divide. Directing a few Paul Haggis scripts isn’t yet enough to make me give up on the guy who played The Man With No Name, Dirty Harry Callahan, Josey Wales, Philo Beddoe, Sgt. Highway, Will Munny, and so many others.

_____

Twenty years ago, there would have been names like Harrison Ford, Kevin Costner, Meryl Streep, Jodie Foster, and many, many others in the running. Alas, to various degrees, based on the projects they’ve chosen combined with the mouthing off they’ve done off-screen, they’ve all lost my trust.

Let me know your own Top 5 in the comments below. Remember, they have to be living, working actors (Sean Connery and Gene Hackman are for all intents and purposes retired).

Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire – class and glamour during Hollywood’s heyday

The term “movie star” used to mean a lot to the American public – glitz, glamour, excitement. It embodied an “other worldliness,” if you will, that took hard-working people away from the daily grind and gave them something thrilling and new to take their minds off of their troubles. An afternoon or evening at the movies really meant something then, and the stars who populated the silver screen lived up to the hype – publicly, anyway. This was due to the studio system. During the 1930s and ‘40s:

…the major studios groomed their stable for stardom by picking suitable vehicles that developed their personae—sophisticated comedy for Grant, intense melodrama for Davis, and so on. They also controlled the stars’ publicity, doling out digestible, often-erroneous tidbits on their personal lives for the fan magazines and gossip columns.

Once the studio system was broken, however, we began to see Tinseltown’s residents through a very different lens. Stars began to develop their own careers, making their own decisions and living with the consequences, both good and bad. And the press, which was once held at bay by the studio bigs, had much more access to celebrities. Television talk shows like The Tonight Show and Merv Griffin brought us even closer to our idols. They became…well, more like us, except with oodles more money, fancy cars, designer duds and entrée into exclusive clubs and resorts.

Which, of course, they are. Movie stars, celebrities, whatever you wish to call them, are “just like us,” with the same fears, worries, and issues about their love lives. The problem is, we don’t want them to be just like us. They are blessed with fabulous careers that bring them ever so much more than the average person can expect out of life. Think about it: how many of us can hop on a private jet to some exotic locale and have millions of people around the world waiting eagerly to read all about it in the celebrity rags? We want them to rise above the every day humdrum. We want glamour. We want excitement. We expect them to live up to the hype.

 
Brad Pitt looking more like a boxcar vagrant than one of Hollywood’s hottest men.

But these days, what do we get? Scandal upon scandal. Constant whining. Leading ladies pushing grocery carts outside of the supermarket. Leading men sporting very unattractive facial hair and looking like badly aging skater dudes. So-called celebrities who became celebrated not based upon any kind of talent, but because they figured out how to work the system. 

One word: blech.

I expect that many of BH’s commenters might take exception to the “we want glamour from our celebrities” theory, and it’s true that not everyone is enamored with the whole glitz and glamour aspect of the entertainment world. Fair enough. So let’s move on to something we can probably all agree upon: We want to be entertained. Whether it’s acting, singing or dancing, entertainers are paid to, well, entertain the masses. And those who have made it to the top of the heap are paid very, very well.

Remember, actors and musicians were, until perhaps a century ago, near the bottom rung of the social ladder. Men in high society had affairs with beautiful actresses and opera singers, but didn’t bring them home to meet mother and they certainly didn’t do anything so rash as to propose marriage to them.

 
Jennifer Aniston greets her rabid fans in Berlin.

But today, Hollywoodists are treated as close to royalty as one can get in American society. And what do we get in return for our admiration and hard-earned dollars that we spend at the movie theater or concert arena? Instead of focusing on what they’re paid to do, entertainers often want to use their very large public platform to “do some good in the world.” Sounds good, but too many of them seem to go about it in a way that’s insulting to the unwashed hordes without whom they’d still be just another waiter or dry cleaner attendant. Frankly, we get treated like a bunch of dumb hicks who wouldn’t know how to figure our way out of the proverbial paper bag. Environmentalism is one area in which celebs have invested themselves heavily. I’ve quoted him before, but it’s worth quoting Christopher Grey again on the topic:

Celebrities want attention, but they also want credibility because they typically don’t have any. Environmentalism is an easy cause for them to promote to get attention and at the same time appear somehow thoughtful and even educated because it is allegedly based on science. Of course none of this has anything do with reality, but this is the entertainment business. Reality is not important at all. Image is everything. Talking about recycling, stopping offshore drilling, solar power, and electric cars is a lot easier than really trying to do something for people in the world like feeding the hungry, helping abused children, or building houses for the homeless.

It also deflects attention from the obvious fact that celebrities are often some of the most wasteful, energy inefficient, materialistic, shallow, and superficial people in our society. A classic recent example was James Cameron, who talked about how his film, Avatar, was a shining example of environmentalism. Obama echoed this praise. This was the most expensive movie ever made about a war on an alien planet. What exactly about this movie helped to conserve resources or save our planet? The answer is absolutely nothing.

The emphasis on that first sentence is mine. Actors and actresses are not “rocket scientists.” Some of them do attain higher education, for what it’s worth – Brooke Shields and Jodie Foster come immediately to mind – but a good number of them are either high school or college dropouts. This obviously rankles, and they want to be more than just pretty faces. And so we’re told how great it is to live in cow dung huts and do our business in the jungle in a country where half the children are underweight and maternal mortality rates are high; treated to movies about how greedy and destructive human beings are by movie moguls who work in an industry that is one of the world’s biggest polluters; and in a mythical face-off with a giant robot, the “white trash, hillbilly, anti-gay, super bible-beating people in Middle America” would be the first to go.

Nice.

 Cameron Diaz is inspired by cow-dung huts in Nepal – but not inspired
enough to move there and live in one.

Of course, don’t forget that if you don’t agree with Hollywoodists politically, you might as well shoot yourself now. If you don’t like the current administration, you’re a racist. If you live in Arizona and support the law that makes it harder for illegal aliens to pour across the border, they’ll punish you by boycotting your state – of course, they don’t live there. Perhaps some of them are has-beens doing it to get their names back out into the press. Whatever. Interestingly enough, there isn’t a boycott of Rhode Island, a state that has been doing what Arizona is trying to do since 2008.

In a nutshell: Americans don’t like being lectured by those who live in glass houses. We don’t like being lectured by people who, because they happen to make a lot of money without breaking into a sweat, behave as though they are more intelligent and more cultured than the rest of us. We don’t like being belittled by those who claim to represent us while they’re overseas. The death of the Hollywood star can, I believe, be partly put down to our being tired of their elitist attitude toward the public whose support makes their fabulously privileged lives possible.

There’s an old saying: Don’t bite the hand that feeds you. And a newer one: Shut up and sing. And if you can’t manage that, don’t complain when your adoring public isn’t so adoring anymore.

I recently read Apocalypse Near? Liberal Actresses Line Up to Star in ‘Atlas Shrugged’  by Pam Meister and wanted to offer the perspective of someone who has experience in casting. The post told of Julia Roberts and Angelina Jolie having an interest in the role of Dagny Taggert. It was offered up, and several commenter’s mentioned that they feared Julia Roberts might change the script to reflect her liberal viewpoint. I don’t really think that should be a concern because many times certain actors are mentioned only to create buzz for a project, or to get their name out there, or both. I believe such is the case with Julia Roberts in this story.

So, for the sake of example here, let’s use Angelina Jolie, the suspected front runner. When casting at the Hollywood level, Angelina’s political leanings, opinions, beliefs and practices would not be considered. Assuming that the writer plans to stay true to the book, and the director is on the same page, an actress will not get a say in rewrites. Some actresses can demand rewrites as part of the negotiations, but such instances are rare. Normally, if she will not “play by the rules,” she does not accept the role.

This was the case when Jodie Foster was sought to reprise her role of Clarice Starling in Hannibal. Speculation was she declined the role because she didn’t like how the character in the sequel had been written.

If Angelina accepts the role it is her job to portray the character as conceived and written by the screenwriter, and defined by the director’s point of view. Of course she and director will have discussions throughout the filming process, but it won’t be to change the “bend” of the script. Whether it’s an actress being paid scale or Angelina’s $20 million paycheck, she is a hired professional first; and is expected to do her homework, get inside the character’s world and get the job done without her political persuasions seeping through.

Case in point: Calista Flockhart is a pretty well know, out-spoken liberal, and whether you like her or not, an outstanding actress. On Brothers and Sisters she plays Kitty Walker, a prominent conservative with a lot of zeal. Drawing on her technique and expertise she portrays this character passionately, with believability and depth.

Now with that said, if I were casting the movie I might consider one of the following strategies:

#1: Since the book already a has a following and is now back on the bestseller list, the movie has a built in audience. You don’t really need to cast the Hollywood heavyweights. So, let’s forget about Angelina and mainstream Hollywood for a moment and cast it with no names. OK, maybe the talented lesser known named Hollywooders. Then let’s go to Broadway where the cream of the crop actor’s are, as well as regionally where you’d be sure to find some amazing undiscovered talent. Assuming the screenplay follows the book and the director respects the material, casting stage actors is the cherry on top of this scenario. 

Mel Gibson went the way of casting the non-mainstream powerhouse actors when he cast The Passion of the Christ. The most recognizable Hollywood player was Jim Caviezel. Mel did this because he felt the story was the big star and he wanted it made true to his vision. He even started filming without outside funding or a distributor. The story and the buzz made Passion the #12 all time grossing film domestically, #3 all time grossing for the year of 2004, and #1 top grossing “R” rated film of 2004. Unfortunately it was only nominated for three Oscars: cinematography, make-up and original score. (Oh, please my nerves!) The nominations were another fatality of liberal Hollywood, much like The Dark Knight.

#2: Being a conservative and a Christian (oh yes, my friends, a double whammy against me in this business), we could do politically evangelical casting. Bring on the bitter, angry, Obama idolizing movie stars. From the table read, to rehearsals, to shooting, these liberal performer’s might start questioning their politics. Let’s take into account a movie can take between two and a half to five months to shoot, sometimes longer. That gives actors a lot of time for introspection. Furthermore, most of their time on set will be spent alone in their trailers memorizing Ayn Rand’s words and living in the world she and the director created. As the filming continues, perhaps the actors start to see the parallels between the book and the Obama agenda. At this point, with the gentle prodding by the material and its execution, the actor’s would start questioning their political beliefs and allegiance. Then once the seed of conservatism is planted, the stage is set for a sea change in the National Consciousness. Ah, one can dream!

Alas, since Hollywood is Hollywood, I think the big name, raging liberals will get the job. But fear not, whether a movie star or unknown liberal is cast, I think it’s safe to say the material will lead to a “crisis of liberal belief.” This is a good start.