When Michael Caine becomes Wolverine’s Alfred, you get an angry Batman…or two.
What on earth am I harping on about? The Channel Nine Friday Night Family Movie, but of course. Up until Friday night, I had neglected to watch The Prestige, having been misinformed about the films genre.
During the ad break, as I attempted to explain the plot to my mum who, as usual, sat in half way through the film, I found myself referring to the characters as Hugh Jackman, Christian Bale, the girl from Coyote Ugly and Scarlet Johansson.
I began to wonder (as I often do), is it just me, or have the celebrity status of actors and actresses detracted from the integrity of dramatic performance as an art?
As opposed to immersing myself in the lives of the characters in the film, I often find myself watching Keira Knightly fall in love with the guy from Death at a Funeral, or Brad Pitt with a Pikey accent pretending to box.
I’m not suggesting that the actors in Hollywood lack theatrical talent; I am however, questioning our recognition of them as performers over our preoccupation with their personal lives and public personas.
On a more removed but related note (loving the contradictions), I am also a perpetrator to victims of typecasting. Simply not able to see past the Hobbit in Elijah Wood, I remain convinced that it was Frodo who gnawed off that girl’s hand in Sin City. I also look forward to watching Seth Cohen as The Flash.
Through a strong focus on Hollywood celebrities’ personal lives combined with the recycling of these popular actors, the integrity of cinematic performances and character illusions are somewhat threatened. Or maybe I need to stop downloading watching movies and get out more.
