Craig here with a quick pre-Xmas wrap-up of season #1 of Take Three. If you have a very short memory, that'd be the Sunday Film Experience series which looked at three notable performances from a supporting or character actor's work. 

The Big Cs: Considine, Cartwright, Cheadle

Last week’s actor Paddy Considine was the last Take Three for a spell (it's seasonal shenanigans, then everything Oscar here at The Film Experience). We began all the way back in May with Veronica Cartwright. All 29 Take Threes have been a pleasure to write. I've often found new admiration for the actors featured. It's fascinating what a spot of research and a few rewatches can do: who knew that I’d come to realise how much of a Peter Lorre fan I was had I not written about a trio of his perfs.

I veered from the strict definition of what constitutes a character actor/actress whilst featuring Don Cheadle, Kim Basinger, Steve Buscemi and Miranda Richardson, but the division these days is often blurry. With actors who alternate between lead and support,  “the rule” was always, where possible, to write about supporting work. On this note, I always saw James Franco as a solid support actor, so I cheekily wedged him in before the likely Oscar nomination and the eventual leading man career.

Coolidge, Washington, Ritter

I was overjoyed to read the comments on Jennifer Coolidge  and discover others excited by her comedic allure. My love of a trio of choice ‘genre gals’, Radha Mitchell, Melissa George and Rosamund Pike, was more controversial but those contemporary character actresses have seen their unfair share of derision, hence the Take Three love. Amanda Plummer, Kerry Washington and Emily Watson were easy choices since their work has been consistently bold and interesting. Another sterling trio – Laurence Fishburne, Paul Schneider and Harry Dean Stanton – made my job a weekly delight.

I'm keen to look at more classic Hollywood actors next year but we covered the always-wonderful Thelma Ritter and sturdy-as-steel Sterling Hayden. Alan Arkin was a choice to bridge the character acting generation. On more contemporary choices like Anna Faris and David Warner I spent more time actually watching clips on YouTube than I did watching the films in their entirety. (Faris in The House Bunny – although it wasn't an actual "take" – and Warner in The Man with Two Brains are two not-so-guilty pleasures.)

Foster, Huston & Hayden

My personal favorite Takes? It  was so much fun to research and write about Dianne Wiest, Deborah Kara Unger, Terence Stamp, Grace Jones,  Ben Foster and Anjelica Huston, (who I enjoyed so much that I included an Anjelica Addendum over at my own blog, Dark Eye Socket).

Take Three will return in February with a new batch of beloved faces, less heralded players and surprise curveballs. Thanks for your ongoing participation with this series. The positive, constructive, curious and interesting comments from Nathaniel's loyal readership has kept this series going.

Lined up as possible candidates next season: Carol Kane, Grace Zabriskie, Emily Mortimer, Charles S. Dutton, Julie Walters and Gloria Grahame. Plus ??? Do please offer suggestions for Take Three  in the comments.
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Take Three

Take Three: Season 1 Wrap

Craig here with a quick pre-Xmas wrap-up of season #1 of Take Three. If you have a very short memory, that'd be the Sunday Film Experience series which looked at three notable performances from a supporting or character actor's work. 

The Big Cs: Considine, Cartwright, Cheadle

Last week’s actor Paddy Considine was the last Take Three for a spell (it's seasonal shenanigans, then everything Oscar here at The Film Experience). We began all the way back in May with Veronica Cartwright. All 29 Take Threes have been a pleasure to write. I've often found new admiration for the actors featured. It's fascinating what a spot of research and a few rewatches can do: who knew that I’d come to realise how much of a Peter Lorre fan I was had I not written about a trio of his perfs.

I veered from the strict definition of what constitutes a character actor/actress whilst featuring Don Cheadle, Kim Basinger, Steve Buscemi and Miranda Richardson, but the division these days is often blurry. With actors who alternate between lead and support,  “the rule” was always, where possible, to write about supporting work. On this note, I always saw James Franco as a solid support actor, so I cheekily wedged him in before the likely Oscar nomination and the eventual leading man career.

Coolidge, Washington, Ritter

I was overjoyed to read the comments on Jennifer Coolidge  and discover others excited by her comedic allure. My love of a trio of choice ‘genre gals’, Radha Mitchell, Melissa George and Rosamund Pike, was more controversial but those contemporary character actresses have seen their unfair share of derision, hence the Take Three love. Amanda Plummer, Kerry Washington and Emily Watson were easy choices since their work has been consistently bold and interesting. Another sterling trio – Laurence Fishburne, Paul Schneider and Harry Dean Stanton – made my job a weekly delight.

I'm keen to look at more classic Hollywood actors next year but we covered the always-wonderful Thelma Ritter and sturdy-as-steel Sterling Hayden. Alan Arkin was a choice to bridge the character acting generation. On more contemporary choices like Anna Faris and David Warner I spent more time actually watching clips on YouTube than I did watching the films in their entirety. (Faris in The House Bunny – although it wasn't an actual "take" – and Warner in The Man with Two Brains are two not-so-guilty pleasures.)

Foster, Huston & Hayden

My personal favorite Takes? It  was so much fun to research and write about Dianne Wiest, Deborah Kara Unger, Terence Stamp, Grace Jones,  Ben Foster and Anjelica Huston, (who I enjoyed so much that I included an Anjelica Addendum over at my own blog, Dark Eye Socket).

Take Three will return in February with a new batch of beloved faces, less heralded players and surprise curveballs. Thanks for your ongoing participation with this series. The positive, constructive, curious and interesting comments from Nathaniel's loyal readership has kept this series going.

Lined up as possible candidates next season: Carol Kane, Grace Zabriskie, Emily Mortimer, Charles S. Dutton, Julie Walters and Gloria Grahame. Plus ??? Do please offer suggestions for Take Three  in the comments.
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Craig here with the last in the current series of Take Three. Today: Paddy Considine

Take One: Dead-end England, twice

"Phil" in My Summer...

Colin Firth, Daniel Craig, Colin Farrell, Clive Owen. And so on. When I think of an actor who encapsulates exactly what is crucial, surprising and truly versatile about British male acting right now, none of the above quite pass muster, for me. Paddy Considine, on the other hand, hits the mark. His two roles for director Pawel Pawlikowski – kindly arcade manager Alfie in Last Resort (2001) and Jesus freak Phil in My Summer of Love (2004) – couldn’t be any different from one another, yet both cover all the above attributes. Watch the two films back to back and tell me Considine shouldn’t be up for every great role an actor of his range and calibre could be suggested for right now. Then ask me why he doesn’t have a shelf full of awards already. We can then all lobby hard for the gongs to be shovelled Paddy’s way more often.

Considine put the mental into fundamentalist in Summer where he plays an ex-con turned Christian zealot converting Yorkshire with a cross on a hilltop. Phil’s internal rage fires up in Considine’s eyes in every one of his scenes, pre-empting his true conversion, his relapse, later in the film.

Considine in Last Resort

In Resort he's all heart and a breath of fresh air, amiably easing the desperate isolation felt by Russian asylum seeker Dina Korzun and her son. (The look on Considine's face when he comes home to them with a takeaway is perfection.) Alfie’s sacrifices – his beating of Korzun’s “pimp”, his early hours assistance in their escape, his stolid, ongoing protection – were some of the most altruistic, selfless acts a character has committed in a film this last decade. Considine was electric in both films  – in small and grand ways. Both films, two contemporary takes on dead-end England, form a pair of genuinely indispensable gems.

"Mike" in Cinderella Man

Take Two: Working hard for Uncle Sam

Considine's name in a film's opening titles guarantees my immediate interest. Two US-set films that he added some strong support to, but which on the surface could have felt like paycheck gigs were were Cinderella Man (2005) and In America (2002). Cinderella Man was of course the Russell Crowe show, but tucked away lower on the cast list Paddy popped in for a few minor scenes, adding a chunk of flat-capped rakish charm as Crowe’s New Jersey friend and co-worker Mike Wilson. The East Staffordshire-raised Considine fit into Depression-era America well, and mastered the NJ accent to go with it. His scenes with Crowe are heartfelt and are demonstrative of the essentiality of the  character actors in propelling a film's drama forward.

In In America he has a more substantial part, as cash-strapped Irish immigrant family man and struggling actor Johnny Sullivan. Samantha Morton and Djimon Hounsou snagged the Oscar nods, but the Academy missed out on honouring his shrewd and thoughtful turn. The film took on extra emotional heft whenever Considine was solo on screen, whether sadly scouring the NY streets for acting work or staring manfully across the city. Only an actor who’s worked hard on his way up could make such moments plausibly memorable. Both stateside trips were integral roles that he owned from the periphery. Any film historian glancing back at Considine’s career may see both films, perhaps rightly, as serviceable CV stepping stones that helped gain him his respected position today.

Take Three: Avenging Angel of the North

Director Shane Meadows and Considine go way back. They met on a performing arts course at Staffordshire's Burton College and have successfully, but intermittently, worked together ever since. Outside of the two Pawlikowskis, Considine’s appearances in three Meadows films offer up his most invigorating performances so far. He had a small role in 1999’s A Room for Romeo Brass and was the first half of Le Donk & Scor-zay-zee in 2009, but between the two was his gruff, electrifying turn as Richard in Dead Man’s Shoes (2004), a Nottingham-based revenge thriller in the mould of Death Wish; Kill Bill on a council estate. He plays a troubled soul easily turned to wretched violence by the abuse doled out to his younger brother. (The exact plot details of which I’ll keep mum about, for fear of spoilers.) He’s a Travis Bickle up North – a terminating force in a trench coat and gas mask. Think Charles Bronson playing the disgruntled miner in My Bloody Valentine.

Close to the edge: Paddy wears Dead Man's Shoes

This is the kind of role usually relegated to a shadowy bit player, the killer loitering in the background of a shot in a horror flick, but Considine brings him front and centre; he’s the (anti)hero and the devil, depending on how you see him. Watch the way he laughingly bares teeth through a kind of half-smile; at any minute this will sour into a scary sneer. Meadows' camera focuses in on his face, catches it slowly twisting into despair as the film barrels onward. The actor is especially formidable in the acid-trip party-gone-wrong scene. He’s fascinating to watch... and frighteningly good.

Three more key films for the taking:  24 Hour Party People (2002), The Bourne Ultimatum (2007), Red Riding: In the Year of Our Lord 1980 (2009)

Cinderella Man· Dead Man's Shoes· In America· Paddy Considine· Pawel Pawlikowski· Shane Meadows· Take Three

Take Three: Paddy Considine

Craig here with the last in the current series of Take Three. Today: Paddy Considine

Take One: Dead-end England, twice

"Phil" in My Summer...

Colin Firth, Daniel Craig, Colin Farrell, Clive Owen. And so on. When I think of an actor who encapsulates exactly what is crucial, surprising and truly versatile about British male acting right now, none of the above quite pass muster, for me. Paddy Considine, on the other hand, hits the mark. His two roles for director Pawel Pawlikowski – kindly arcade manager Alfie in Last Resort (2001) and Jesus freak Phil in My Summer of Love (2004) – couldn’t be any different from one another, yet both cover all the above attributes. Watch the two films back to back and tell me Considine shouldn’t be up for every great role an actor of his range and calibre could be suggested for right now. Then ask me why he doesn’t have a shelf full of awards already. We can then all lobby hard for the gongs to be shovelled Paddy’s way more often.

Considine put the mental into fundamentalist in Summer where he plays an ex-con turned Christian zealot converting Yorkshire with a cross on a hilltop. Phil’s internal rage fires up in Considine’s eyes in every one of his scenes, pre-empting his true conversion, his relapse, later in the film.

Considine in Last Resort

In Resort he's all heart and a breath of fresh air, amiably easing the desperate isolation felt by Russian asylum seeker Dina Korzun and her son. (The look on Considine's face when he comes home to them with a takeaway is perfection.) Alfie’s sacrifices – his beating of Korzun’s “pimp”, his early hours assistance in their escape, his stolid, ongoing protection – were some of the most altruistic, selfless acts a character has committed in a film this last decade. Considine was electric in both films  – in small and grand ways. Both films, two contemporary takes on dead-end England, form a pair of genuinely indispensable gems.

"Mike" in Cinderella Man

Take Two: Working hard for Uncle Sam

Considine's name in a film's opening titles guarantees my immediate interest. Two US-set films that he added some strong support to, but which on the surface could have felt like paycheck gigs were were Cinderella Man (2005) and In America (2002). Cinderella Man was of course the Russell Crowe show, but tucked away lower on the cast list Paddy popped in for a few minor scenes, adding a chunk of flat-capped rakish charm as Crowe’s New Jersey friend and co-worker Mike Wilson. The East Staffordshire-raised Considine fit into Depression-era America well, and mastered the NJ accent to go with it. His scenes with Crowe are heartfelt and are demonstrative of the essentiality of the  character actors in propelling a film's drama forward.

In In America he has a more substantial part, as cash-strapped Irish immigrant family man and struggling actor Johnny Sullivan. Samantha Morton and Djimon Hounsou snagged the Oscar nods, but the Academy missed out on honouring his shrewd and thoughtful turn. The film took on extra emotional heft whenever Considine was solo on screen, whether sadly scouring the NY streets for acting work or staring manfully across the city. Only an actor who’s worked hard on his way up could make such moments plausibly memorable. Both stateside trips were integral roles that he owned from the periphery. Any film historian glancing back at Considine’s career may see both films, perhaps rightly, as serviceable CV stepping stones that helped gain him his respected position today.

Take Three: Avenging Angel of the North

Director Shane Meadows and Considine go way back. They met on a performing arts course at Staffordshire's Burton College and have successfully, but intermittently, worked together ever since. Outside of the two Pawlikowskis, Considine’s appearances in three Meadows films offer up his most invigorating performances so far. He had a small role in 1999’s A Room for Romeo Brass and was the first half of Le Donk & Scor-zay-zee in 2009, but between the two was his gruff, electrifying turn as Richard in Dead Man’s Shoes (2004), a Nottingham-based revenge thriller in the mould of Death Wish; Kill Bill on a council estate. He plays a troubled soul easily turned to wretched violence by the abuse doled out to his younger brother. (The exact plot details of which I’ll keep mum about, for fear of spoilers.) He’s a Travis Bickle up North – a terminating force in a trench coat and gas mask. Think Charles Bronson playing the disgruntled miner in My Bloody Valentine.

Close to the edge: Paddy wears Dead Man's Shoes

This is the kind of role usually relegated to a shadowy bit player, the killer loitering in the background of a shot in a horror flick, but Considine brings him front and centre; he’s the (anti)hero and the devil, depending on how you see him. Watch the way he laughingly bares teeth through a kind of half-smile; at any minute this will sour into a scary sneer. Meadows' camera focuses in on his face, catches it slowly twisting into despair as the film barrels onward. The actor is especially formidable in the acid-trip party-gone-wrong scene. He’s fascinating to watch... and frighteningly good.

Three more key films for the taking:  24 Hour Party People (2002), The Bourne Ultimatum (2007), Red Riding: In the Year of Our Lord 1980 (2009)

Craig here with Take Three. Today: Emily Watson

Take One: Upstairs 0 - Downstairs 1

The Academy often doubles up with their supporting ladies – i.e. Weaver and Cusack for Working Girl, Farmiga and Kendrick for Up in the Air, and so on. It was true also for 2001’s Gosford Park's Helen Mirren and Maggie Smith. I always thought a third should’ve been added. Watson delivered five-star service and, for me, the film’s best performance by a country (house) mile. She played Elsie, the knowing, spirited maid that doomed homeowner Sir William (Michael Gambon) liked to see doing plenty of overtime.

Among the film's interviewing mini-plots, Elsie’s narrative was an intriguing red herring, a side dish. But then Gosford Park wasn’t really about the murder as much as it was about class. Watson had plenty.

Watson in Gosford Park

Altman’s film was packed wall-to-wall with high-level thesping and hidden somewhere in the pack was Watson effortlessly showing everybody up. Mirren was great, Smith very good, but Watson's was the most likeable, instinctive and vibrant turn. In Gosford Park Watson proves adept at making familiar type seem fresh and altogether vital. She’s always believable on screen. Mirren’s emotional resolution was Gosford Park’s sad closer, but Watson sent the film off on a more optimistic note.

Take Two: Staring death in the face

We were all was vicariously looking out for Watson’s character Reba McClane in Red Dragon (2002). Given the circumstances, somebody needed to. Reba was the blind co-worker dubiously romanced by heavily-tattooed serial killer Francis Dolarhyde (Ralph Fiennes). Falling for the mentally-suspect mother’s boy was a mistake, sure, but appearances can be deceptive and Reba didn’t have the foresight. Their shared outsiderdom brought them together  but with one major difference: he was madder than a box of frogs, she wasn’t; he went around watching other people’s home videos, gluing folk to wheelchairs then setting them on fire and eating paintings, she didn’t.

Watson in Red Dragon

Watson was spot on in the role offering no concession to cliché, no unnecessary dwelling on the “disability” aspect, no life-affirming monologues. Instead she provides  solid, amiable character acting. Her final moments, wondering aloud to Edward Norton whether she “drew a freak”, are brief but minutely heartbreaking. Watson turned a shopworn character, twice mislabelled a victim, into a full-bodied person, coloring her in with nuanced detail. Reba wasn’t just a pitiable blind girl. She was refreshingly knowing, slightly cynical and  believably vulnerable in ways we don’t normally see.

Take Three: Hard times, clean hands

Grandiose, revisionist westerns made with lyrical verve, riper than thou character names and terse dialogue aren’t ten a penny these days, so it's best to relish them when they roll around. Ace Aussie oddity The Proposition (2005) was one of my films of 2006; Watson made my best actress list. Martha Stanley, the homely, nervy wife to Ray Winstone’s Captain was quietly electrifying. Here was a woman ill-adjusted to frontier lief, stuck in the (out)back of beyond in a godforsaken 1800s town built on violence. This delicate English flower wilted in the heat of the Australian desert. Emily's Martha gradually hardens to all that death and dust, but never accepts it. She’s one of writer Nick Cave’s best creations: like a doomed heroine in one of his murder ballads, but fleshed out and allowed to cautiously flourish.

Watson in The Proposition

Even though Martha was on the periphery of all the manly action, Hillcoat’s camera is still attentive to her. Through Watson’s beautifully underplayed performance we are granted access to her inner thoughts. When she overhears of her husband’s betrayal (concerning the flogging of a man believed to have raped and murdered her only friend), we not only witness her utter disbelief in cutaway, but the scene itself ends on her exhausted yet defiant stride out of her isolated house. Her blue-brown dress is at elegant odds to the expansive, harsh desert terrain she heads towards.

Watson in the bath

Watson's performance is a set of emotive actions finely woven together. Watch the way she inspects her water-withered hands in the bath as she talks of her grief, the way her deathly dream virtually obliterates her own waking perception of events, how her brittle defiance turns to resigned revulsion during the flogging scene and, in the brutal climax, her frozen terror. The reality of how hard a slog life was for Martha is etched all over Emily's face.

Three more key films for the taking:  Breaking the Waves (1995), Hilary & Jackie (1998), Punchdrunk Love (2002)

Emily Watson· Gosford Park· Oscars (00s)· Red Dragon· Take Three· The Proposition

Take Three: Emily Watson

Craig here with Take Three. Today: Emily Watson

Take One: Upstairs 0 - Downstairs 1

The Academy often doubles up with their supporting ladies – i.e. Weaver and Cusack for Working Girl, Farmiga and Kendrick for Up in the Air, and so on. It was true also for 2001’s Gosford Park's Helen Mirren and Maggie Smith. I always thought a third should’ve been added. Watson delivered five-star service and, for me, the film’s best performance by a country (house) mile. She played Elsie, the knowing, spirited maid that doomed homeowner Sir William (Michael Gambon) liked to see doing plenty of overtime.

Among the film's interviewing mini-plots, Elsie’s narrative was an intriguing red herring, a side dish. But then Gosford Park wasn’t really about the murder as much as it was about class. Watson had plenty.

Watson in Gosford Park

Altman’s film was packed wall-to-wall with high-level thesping and hidden somewhere in the pack was Watson effortlessly showing everybody up. Mirren was great, Smith very good, but Watson's was the most likeable, instinctive and vibrant turn. In Gosford Park Watson proves adept at making familiar type seem fresh and altogether vital. She’s always believable on screen. Mirren’s emotional resolution was Gosford Park’s sad closer, but Watson sent the film off on a more optimistic note.

Take Two: Staring death in the face

We were all was vicariously looking out for Watson’s character Reba McClane in Red Dragon (2002). Given the circumstances, somebody needed to. Reba was the blind co-worker dubiously romanced by heavily-tattooed serial killer Francis Dolarhyde (Ralph Fiennes). Falling for the mentally-suspect mother’s boy was a mistake, sure, but appearances can be deceptive and Reba didn’t have the foresight. Their shared outsiderdom brought them together  but with one major difference: he was madder than a box of frogs, she wasn’t; he went around watching other people’s home videos, gluing folk to wheelchairs then setting them on fire and eating paintings, she didn’t.

Watson in Red Dragon

Watson was spot on in the role offering no concession to cliché, no unnecessary dwelling on the “disability” aspect, no life-affirming monologues. Instead she provides  solid, amiable character acting. Her final moments, wondering aloud to Edward Norton whether she “drew a freak”, are brief but minutely heartbreaking. Watson turned a shopworn character, twice mislabelled a victim, into a full-bodied person, coloring her in with nuanced detail. Reba wasn’t just a pitiable blind girl. She was refreshingly knowing, slightly cynical and  believably vulnerable in ways we don’t normally see.

Take Three: Hard times, clean hands

Grandiose, revisionist westerns made with lyrical verve, riper than thou character names and terse dialogue aren’t ten a penny these days, so it's best to relish them when they roll around. Ace Aussie oddity The Proposition (2005) was one of my films of 2006; Watson made my best actress list. Martha Stanley, the homely, nervy wife to Ray Winstone’s Captain was quietly electrifying. Here was a woman ill-adjusted to frontier lief, stuck in the (out)back of beyond in a godforsaken 1800s town built on violence. This delicate English flower wilted in the heat of the Australian desert. Emily's Martha gradually hardens to all that death and dust, but never accepts it. She’s one of writer Nick Cave’s best creations: like a doomed heroine in one of his murder ballads, but fleshed out and allowed to cautiously flourish.

Watson in The Proposition

Even though Martha was on the periphery of all the manly action, Hillcoat’s camera is still attentive to her. Through Watson’s beautifully underplayed performance we are granted access to her inner thoughts. When she overhears of her husband’s betrayal (concerning the flogging of a man believed to have raped and murdered her only friend), we not only witness her utter disbelief in cutaway, but the scene itself ends on her exhausted yet defiant stride out of her isolated house. Her blue-brown dress is at elegant odds to the expansive, harsh desert terrain she heads towards.

Watson in the bath

Watson's performance is a set of emotive actions finely woven together. Watch the way she inspects her water-withered hands in the bath as she talks of her grief, the way her deathly dream virtually obliterates her own waking perception of events, how her brittle defiance turns to resigned revulsion during the flogging scene and, in the brutal climax, her frozen terror. The reality of how hard a slog life was for Martha is etched all over Emily's face.

Three more key films for the taking:  Breaking the Waves (1995), Hilary & Jackie (1998), Punchdrunk Love (2002)