Gary Oldman

Gary Oldman as Sgt. Jim Gordon. Batman Begins. 2005.

Gary Oldman is probably one of the most underrated actors in Hollywood.

Like Johhny Depp and Daniel Day-Lewis (both also in The Acting Hall of Fame), Oldman loves going for those weird eccentric roles. He doesn't mind playing minor roles, or even cameos. Gary Oldman is the ultimate team player. Even if he is a better actor than all the other actors in the film combined, he will never hog the spotlight. He doesn't need to.

Director Christopher Nolan should be credited for his excellent casting choice. The no-nonsense yet totally nice guy-demeanor of Sgt. Jim Gordon was captured perfectly by Oldman. But the best part was that Oldman's facial hair made him invisible. A friend of mine never knew it was Gary Oldman until the end credits. I wouldn't have noticed him too, had I not known the fact beforehand. And even if you did know beforehand that Oldman would play Gordon, you'd forget about it as soon as Gary Oldman appears onscreen. Gary Oldman ceases to be Gary Oldman and becomes Jim Gordon.

Perhaps it would be best if we ended this with a quote from Christopher Nolan himself.

With a great actor like Oldman, it really doesn’t faze him to be looking at nothing but a bunch of grips and electricians. He’s able to ignore the green screen and tap into the psychological reality of the situation.

*some info and pic from DGA Quarterly

Sean Penn

Sean Penn as Matthew Poncelet. Dead Man Walking. 1995.

This year, 2009, Sean Penn is nominated again with a Best Actor Academy Award for Milk.

His first Oscar was given for his performance in the 2003 film Mystic River. But everyone keeps saying that he should've gotten an Oscar two years earlier for I Am Sam (but as Robert Downey, Jr. said in Tropic Thunder, Sean Penn went full retard for the role, and came home empty-handed).

But the truth is, he should've gotten an Oscar way back in 1995, for this role:

That's Matthew Poncelet, convicted killer on death row, in the Tim Robbins picture Dead Man Walking. Penn's portrayal of Harvey Milk, like his portrayal in I Am Sam, still contains traces of the real Sean Penn, like his distinct voice. But in Dead Man Walking, there is no trace of Sean Penn. Matthew Poncelet may look like Sean Penn, but the similarity ends there. Once he opens his mouth, he becomes the character altogether.

Penn's portrayal as a death row convict is so convincing that I was actually both afraid and awestruck at the same time. Afraid because I realized that somewhere in the far reaches of the United States, there still exist humans like Poncelet, cold-blooded evil racists who could kill someone without even batting an eyelash. And awestruck because even stone-cold killers can break down in tears when faced with death.

The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences is not an infallible institution. Their choices are not divine in nature. They are merely opinions of the majority of them. Watch the Oscar nominees for Best Actor in 1995 again, and I guarantee you'll be shaking your head and wondering how in the world Nicolas Cage went home with the Oscar for Leaving Las Vegas when Sean Penn was clearly the best actor for that year.

Johnny Depp

Johnny Depp as Raoul Duke. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. 1998.

Who can deny the acting prowess of John Christopher Depp II?

The original eighties fans will know him forever as the poster boy who made panties drop in 21 Jump Street. All the fans who came after will know him as that guy who likes to take on weird roles. And when I say weird, I mean weird.

His weirdest role to date would probably be that infamous pirate "Captain" Jack Sparrow, immortalized by Depp with the pirate accent and the drunk swagger. But Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas came much, much earlier, and if you want to see an offbeat, eccentric Johnny Depp, it's Raoul Duke, not Jack Sparrow, that you should watch.

Here Depp plays the sportswriter Raoul Duke, who is actually notorious writer Hunter S. Thompson's alter-ego. Now I personally know nothing of Johnny Depp's drug use, but as a musician, I'm pretty sure he's done pot a couple of times. But in this movie, Duke is actually someone who ingests drugs in huge quantities, and the effects of each and every drug he consumes, spanning the whole gamut of the uppers-downers spectrum, is portrayed accurately by Depp. The opening scene itself is like an anti-drug video clip showing the harmful effects of LSD, and yet the thing is, it's all acting. It's all brilliant acting.

One doesn't have to be a method actor to prepare for a role. Every actor has their own style. What Depp did for this role was to visit the real Hunter S. Thompson, and ended up living in Hunter's basement for four months. This was where Depp fleshed out the role, paying attention to Hunter's mannerisms and habits. He also went through the original manuscript of Fear and Loathing, as well as the notebooks Hunter kept during the original trip. He even traded cars with Hunter, shaved his head, and changed his wardrobe to match Hunter's.

Now, Hunter S. Thompson is a huge man, and one of the first actors considered to play him was Jack Nicholson, who was more or less the same size as the real Hunter S. Thompson. But due to some studio mishaps, the project never got off the ground. When Hunter first met Johnny Depp, his first thought was that, "This actor couldn't possibly play me. He's too small." But once Depp got inside his head and dissected his psyche, transforming it into his very own, Hunter became convinced that nobody else could play him the way Johnny Depp did. And for Depp's performance alone, this film is worth watching.

Daniel Day-Lewis

Daniel Day-Lewis as William "Bill" a.k.a. "The Butcher" Cutting. Gangs of New York. 2002.

Okay, anybody who says that Daniel Day-Lewis's performance was not that good, please stand up. Bill the Butcher'll plunge a knife through your heart.

To qualify into the Acting Hall of Fame, three conditions must be satisfied. First, the actor should become the character. And in this film, did the actor become the character? In this case, why the answer is yes. As with any Daniel Day-Lewis film, he totally becomes the character, on and off camera. Daniel Day-Lewis is in fact well-known for his acting eccentricities, staying in character as long as production is in progress, even if the cameras have stopped rolling. It was reported that he even had a bout of pneumonia during filming, and he stubbornly refused to be treated, saying it wasn't staying true to the period. I think he was finally persuaded when someone pointed out that during the period, people actually died of pneumonia.

The second condition that must be satisfied is that you must believe that the actor is really the character. With Day-Lewis in front of the camera, it's hard not to believe he isn't actually from nineteenth-century New York, what with his flawless accent and handlebar mustache. Daniel Day-Lewis's face totally disappears, as even the Butcher's facial expressions, gestures, and mannerisms totally become his own. Even his character's slight limp, as well as the dirty fingernails and greasy hair, all contribute to sustain the illusion that Bill the Butcher has indeed walked the earth and graced us with his presence. His knife-throwing lessons and his butcher apprenticeship definitely paid off.

And finally, the third condition that must be satisfied is that no other actor should be able to play the part better. The role must be tailor-made for that specific actor. This doesn't mean that only Daniel Day-Lewis can play Bill the Butcher. That would be an insult to all the other brilliant actors in the Hall of Fame. Perhaps the correct way to say it would be that only Daniel Day-Lewis can play Bill the Butcher the way he did. The level of artistry and devotion to the craft is unparalleled with this actor, which is why Daniel Day-Lewis, despite his considerably shorter filmography compared to other actors, still remains one of the most respected thespians of his generation.

Russell Crowe

Russell Crowe as Captain Jack Aubrey. Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World. 2003.

Ask yourself this: why would the Academy give an Oscar to Russell Crowe for Gladiator? Because it's an epic, that's why. Gladiator is the type of movie that Hollywood churned out during its golden age, or whatever they want to call it. But that is definitely not Crowe's best performance to date.

Russell Crowe's best performance is still in 2003's Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World. Anybody who's ever read the books by Patrick O'Brian will know what I'm talking about. Crowe brings life to the swaggering sea captain who knows his ship inside-out like Michael Schumacher knows his F1. The whole movie has been described as "a testosterone-filled sea journey about nothing but seamen, seamen, and seamen" (no pun intended), and Russell definitely comes out as the ship's alpha male. Seeing him in uniform, with his long blonde hair in a ponytail, will almost make you wish you were back in the days when ocean-going vessels travelled by the power of the wind alone.


Crowe may still retain some of his famous mannerisms, like the way he raises his eyebrow, but generally, the man called Russell Crowe completely disappears and is totally replaced by Lucky Jack Aubrey. He shows the many sides of Lucky Jack: the cultured musician when he is with his close friend Doctor Maturin; the brilliant tactician when he is with his officers; the stern disciplinarian when he is with the ship's crew; and the excellent navigator when he takes the ship's wheel. He plays all these parts effortlessly, able to blend all those different traits seamlessly into one solid character.

Russell Crowe's performance here is commendable in that he not only learned to play the violin for this role, but he also spent hours studying the history of the dialect that Jack Aubrey may have used during this time. Crowe has been known to spend hours researching his roles, with the zeal of a graduating Ivy League student working on a thesis. And the only reason Russell Crowe wasn't nominated for a Best Actor Oscar for this role? Because he already won for Gladiator, that's why. And I don't think the Academy is in the habit of letting Australians win twice.

Marlon Brando

Marlon Brando as Don Vito Corleone. The Godfather. 1972.

This guy is the reason I wanted to become an actor.

Anybody who's seen The Godfather will not deny that Marlon Brando delivered one mind-blowing performance. He truly the deserved the Academy Award given to him for that year, but in true Marlon Brando-fashion, he boycotted the Oscar ceremony, and sent Native American activist Sacheen Lttlefeather to do the explaining.

But anyway, Brando as Vito Corleone was a turning point not just in Brando's career, but in the gangster genre as well. In the old days, a gangster had to be menacing and tough, like Edward G. Robinson in Little Caesar. But Brando took the mobster to a whole new level, showing us a frail old man, with a barely audible speaking voice, capable of sending chills through your spine and making you wet your pants. Talk about power.

Brando has improved on the Vito Corleone in The Godfather novel by Mario Puzo, breathing life into the character by adding some of his own tricks. For example, that raspy, gravelly voice was not really in the book, but hearing Marlon Brando deliver it, you wouldn't doubt that Vito Corleone really talked like that. Brando even put the extra mile on his already-excellent make-up by adding cotton balls in his mouth to give his cheeks that puffy look.

The testament to Brando's performance can be felt even to this day. Stand-up comics consider their acts incomplete if they don't have Vito Corleone in their arsenal of celebrity impersonations. Almost all the gangster films after 1972 pay homage one way or another to The Godfather, and as I said, Brando has single-handedly managed to get rid of the tough-guy gangster stereotype.

Again, one of the criteria for getting into the Acting Hall of Fame is that the actor must become the character. And in this movie, Marlon Brando was Vito Corleone. No one else could have played the part better. Rest in peace, Don Corleone.

Heath Ledger

Heath Ledger as Skip Engblom. Lords of Dogtown. 2005.

One of the most unappreciated roles in Heath Ledger's career is actually one of his best performances, playing a surfer-turned-skateboarder in 2005's Lords of Dogtown. The seventies wardrobe, coupled with the surfer drawl, breathes life into the character of Skip Engblom, and it seems improbable that another actor could have given a better performance.

Even the little details, like the way Ledger sticks out his front teeth from his upper lip, show his complete devotion to the craft, even neutralizing his Aussie accent in the process. He speaks in perfect California surfer talk, his hair is the same grizzly gold of the California surfers, and he also walks on sea legs, slightly duck-footed with a pirate swagger.

This role manages to capture the essence of Heath Ledger as an artist. Ledger is a natural, and his acting ability is innate. And like Skip Engblom, Heath Ledger is also a true bohemian, preferring unemployment over doing roles he doesn't like. And this role is a statement that he has graduated from teen flicks and rom-coms, and he isn't going back.

Heath Ledger's maturity in acting is also what separates him from other actors of his age. Although only 24 when he did this movie, Ledger has proven that his talents truly place him light-years ahead of his generation.

Sadly, there is very little literature on this movie, making me think that the critics took this Skip Engblom performance as a sort of joke. But believe me, critics, when I say that this performance is no joke at all. I personally wanted to watch Dogtown because of its historical value as a film about the rise of the sport known as skateboarding. And as soon as I saw that grizzly-haired surfer chilling out in his surf shop, talking like a beach bum, I thought to myself, "That actor's good." And slowly it began to dawn on me that the guy behind the gold locks and the big sunglasses was actually Heath Ledger. The realization crept slowly, but my respect for him as an actor skyrocketed. This was the film that made me realize that Heath Ledger is indeed a brilliant actor, way before Brokeback Mountain would cement that status with an Oscar nomination.

May the Lord bless the soul of Heathcliff Andrew Ledger (April 4, 1979 - January 22, 2008). Requiescat in pace.

David Bowie

David Bowie as Nikola Tesla. The Prestige. 2006.

One of the greatest actors who will never win an Oscar. Sadly, Bowie's acting talent becomes relegated to the art film community, his brilliance going unnoticed by the more mainstream-oriented Academy. From Ziggy Stardust, to Labyrinth, to The Last Temptation of Christ, to Basquiat, David Bowie's status as an artist has already been cemented a long time ago. The only problem is when he will get the recognition he deserves.

In The Prestige, David Bowie plays the famous scientist Nikola Tesla (yes, the Tesla, the inventor of the alternating current). The incidents portrayed in the movie, however, are largely fictitous, borne out of Nikola Tesla's legendary "hidden" inventions, but the man Tesla is still portrayed like he was the real thing.

Bowie as Nikola Tesla is a masterpiece to behold, his whole onscreen performance a work of art. He is Nikola Tesla all throughout, from the moment he steps into his first shot (nice work there, by the way, what an entrance) all the way till his final voice-over lines, nailing the accent perfectly. One cannot help but wonder what David Bowie's acting method is, but after seeing him as Andy Warhol in Basquiat, one will not doubt that Bowie is a natural actor.

The thing with Bowie as Tesla is that he is unrecognizable. Even a close view of his distinctly-colored eyes did not allow me to see past the performance. And the thing is, it wouldn't have made a difference whether you knew or you didn't; all that would matter is that Nikola Tesla has come to life, and this actor has pulled it off very well.

I remember the first time I saw The Prestige, it was when it made its theatrical run. All the while, I didn't care who the actor playing Tesla was. I just thought he was a good actor, probably some unknown cast by Christopher Nolan. The actor seemed to deliver a very convincing performance (as if anyone alive right now can claim to have seen the real Tesla, which is impossible). Then when the end credits came, the names of the actors flashed on the black screen, just the names, not the names of the character they played.

Hugh Jackman...Christian Bale...blah-blah-blah...AND DAVID BOWIE.

I said to the person sitting next to me, "David Bowie? David Bowie was there?" I racked my brains for all the characters in the story, trying to discover who could have been played by Bowie. "Was it Tesla's assistant? Oh no, that's Gollum, I mean Andy Serkis." So who was David Bowie then?

I had to find out, so I stayed until the part of the end credits where they show the actor's name beside the character's name. My eyes scanned the scrolling names on the right column, trying to look for David Bowie's name. When I found it, I looked at the name on its left: Tesla.

"David Bowie was Tesla?" I said, in a rather loud voice, causing the person beside me to stare angrily at me. "David Bowie was Tesla?" I couldn't stop smiling, it was like being astonished by a magic trick. And it turned out that David Bowie playing Nikola Tesla was actually the greatest magic trick in the entire film.

originally posted on stinglacson.multiply.com Nov 8, '07 2:41 AM