Friday, February 06, 2004
Good and ugly
Originally published in The Age Green Guide, 5 February 2004.
Joe Pantoliano is an ugly man. Remember The Sopranos’ slimy Ralph Cifaretto, whose gruesome death, dismemberment and posthumous toupee removal was one of the climaxes of Season Four? He was played by Pantoliano. Not very attractive.
But along with actors like James Gandolfini (The Sopranos), Tony Shalhoub (Monk) and David Morse (Hack), Pantoliano makes up a new breed of television leading man. They may not be the best looking blokes around, but boy, can they act.
None of these actors is new to the acting game, having done their time with supporting roles in cinema. Real supporting roles. Not glamorous, Oscar-winning, Kevin-Spacey-type roles, but the dirty supporting work that every film needs.
They do not have time to ‘Act’; they have a job to do. They don’t cry, they won’t have a physical disability, and they sure as hell never get the girl. Or an Oscar. They are friends, second-in-commands, assassins. Never heroes, or confidantes, or even serial killers.
Remember the pornographer that Nicolas Cage dealt with in 8MM? That was Gandolfini. Or Tom Hanks’ right-hand-man in The Green Mile? David Morse. Or the guy who betrayed Keanu Reeves and Laurence Fishburne in The Matrix? Pantoliano. Without these guys, the stars would have no backup, no one to play off, no one to pursue. Without these guys, the story could not work.
So why don’t they ever get better roles? Because of looks. The cinematic leading man is handsome, and the supporting man at least interesting looking, but neither is ever unattractive. Unfortunately, guys like Pantoliano, Shalhoub, Gandolfini and Morse just don’t cut it as leading men on the big screen. These days, though, that is not necessarily a disadvantage, because some of the best stories are being told on television.
The increasingly popular long-form drama combines the episodic structure of series television with the continuous narrative of, dare I say it, soap, resulting in stories that can run over weeks, or seasons. Programs like The Sopranos employ narrative techniques that could see a set up being paid off weeks down the track, or a single story cooking away for the duration of a season.
This is a luxury that has never really been available to cinema or, to a lesser extent, to episodic television. So some of the best writers around – David Chase (The Sopranos), Alan Ball (Six Feet Under), Joss Whedon (Buffy, Angel) – are writing for TV because it gives them the opportunity to tell stories in greater depth than cinema ever could.
But stories this intense need actors good enough to carry them. There are plenty of actors who have enough to support a ninety minute teen farce (Seann William Scott – American Pie’s Steve Stifler– I love your work), but the enormous performance responsibility of a thirteen or even twenty-two episode season is something that only the best can handle.
That is why television is snapping up these guys as quick as it can and building shows around them. James Gandolfini shoulders less of the load on The Sopranos than he once did, but Shalhoub’s Monk, Morse’s Hack and Pantoliano’s upcoming The Handler rely on the talents of their protagonist almost exclusively - and the actors have shown that they are more than up to it.
Gandolfini, unlike countless movie stars, is unafraid to show the ugliest aspects of Tony Soprano, unafraid that the audience will not like him. It is to his credit that as his influence over the show has increased, he has continued to allow the writers to take Tony on the journey that they want, not the journey that Gandolfini sees as best for his career.
David Morse’s Mike Olshansky is the sort of character TV needs more of. He is an ex-cop, sacked for taking money from a crime scene, and working off his guilt as a sort of vigilante cab driver. Morse manages to imbue Olshansky with a gentle, calm tenderness, as well as a hulking, even violent, physical presence.
And Tony Shalhoub’s Adrian Monk allows us to see the torment of obsessive compulsive disorder where a lesser actor could have resorted to a parade of cliches and gags. Hopefully, The Handler does Pantoliano justice. Because these guys are tremendous actors in great shows.
They are tremendous actors, but cinema never gave them the roles they deserved because they were not bankable enough. Not good looking enough. Not famous enough. Not even going out with Jennifer Lopez (I’m sorry Ben Affleck, but what have you done to deserve your fame?)
Television has realised how simple the equation is. Good writers have always been interested in the narrative possibilities offered by TV, now great actors are carrying their stories. And the result is some of the best storytelling and the best performances we have seen in years. So what if they are not that good looking? Or bankable? They can act the pants off a lot of those whose names go above movie titles, and that is what counts.
Now when television starts doing the same thing for women, we will really be making progress.