George Clooney
Page 1
After receiving a First Class English degree at Manchester University, Mark Browning attended universities in Leeds, London, and Kent and gained a PGCE, an MA, and a PhD respectively. He has taught English and Film Studies in a number of schools in England and was a Senior Lecturer in Education in Bath. He has published study guides for Film Education, academic articles on the processes of adaptation, and also written comedy sketches for BBC Radio 2.
He has published a number of film-related works: David Cronenberg: Author or Filmmaker? (Intellect Books, 2007), which has also been translated into Serbo-Croat; Stephen King on the Big Screen (Intellect, 2009); David Fincher: Films That Scar (ABC-CLIO, 2010); Wes Anderson: Why His Movies Matter (ABC-CLIO, 2011); Stephen King on the Small Screen (Intellect, 2011); and Danny Boyle: Lust for Life (Chaplin Books, 2011).
He currently lives in Germany where he works as a teacher and freelance writer.
George Clooney
An Actor Looking for a Role
Mark Browning
ABC-CLIO, LLC
Copyright 2012 by Mark Browning
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
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recording, or otherwise, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review, without prior
permission in writing from the publisher.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Browning, Mark, 1966–
George Clooney : an actor looking for a role / Mark Browning.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978–0–313–39621–2 (hard copy : alk. paper) — ISBN 978–0–313–39622–9 (ebook)
1. Clooney, George—Criticism and interpretation. I. Title.
PN2287.C546B76 2012
791.4302′8092—dc23 2012010975
ISBN: 978–0–313–39621–2
EISBN: 978–0–313–39622–9
1615141312 12345
This book is also available on the World Wide Web as an eBook.
Visit www.abc-clio.com for details.
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Contents
Introduction
1 From E/R to ER (Early Television Work)
2 Romantic Hero (What Women Want)
One Fine Day (1996)
Intolerable Cruelty (2003)
Leatherheads (2008)
Up in the Air (2009)
3 Action Hero (What Men Want)
Batman and Robin (1997)
The Peacemaker (1997)
The Perfect Storm (2000)
4 A Mixture of Several Genres
From Dusk Till Dawn (1996)
O Brother, Where Art Thou? (2000)
Confessions of a Dangerous Mind (2002)
The Good German (2006)
5 Heist Movies
Out of Sight (1998)
Three Kings (1999)
Ocean’s Eleven (2001)
Ocean’s Twelve (2004)
Ocean’s Thirteen (2007)
Welcome to Collinwood (2002)
6 State of the Nation
Fail Safe (2000)
Good Night, and Good Luck (2005)
The Ides of March (2011)
7 Spies Like Us
Syriana (2005)
Burn after Reading (2008)
The Men Who Stare at Goats (2009)
8 Existential George
Solaris (2002)
Michael Clayton (2007)
The American (2010)
The Descendants (2011)
9 Time for a Commercial Break: “What Else?”
Conclusion
Notes
Bibliography
Index
Introduction
Kelvin: the conscious effort to smile, nod, stand … performing millions of gestures that constitute life on earth … I studied these until they became reflexes.
—Kelvin in Solaris
George Timothy Clooney is arguably not just a fine actor but a major Hollywood player, acting as director, producer, and writer on projects that without his interest and creative input would never have been made. His influence within the industry has grown steadily over the last decade so that rather than merely featuring in polls of most handsome man, he now tops polls of powerful figures in Hollywood. At the same time, a growing number of films with which he has been involved have garnered a more positive critical response, resulting in Oscar nominations for Best Actor (Michael Clayton, Up in the Air and The Descendants), Best Original Screenplay (Good Night, and Good Luck), Best Adapted Screenplay (The Ides of March), Best Director (Good Night, and Good Luck) and a win as Best Supporting Actor (Syriana).
Reflecting the global interest he generates, there have been several overt biographies of Clooney, which differ range in range and detail. David Bassom’s George Clooney: An Illustrated Story (1999) is a speedily produced, 80-page thumbnail sketch, while Jeff Hudson’s George Clooney: A Biography (2003) and Nick Johnstone’s George Clooney: The Illustrated Biography (2008) are more substantial but still fundamentally dealing with Clooney as a celebrity rather than a screen actor. Sam Keenleyside’s Bedside Manners: George Clooney and ER (1998) is an information-based TV tie-in, and Tamra B. Orr’s George Clooney and the Crisis in Darfur (2008) is clearly focused on Clooney’s political activism beyond the screen. Even Kimberly J. Potts’s George Clooney: The Last Great Movie Star (2007) offers a broad sweep of his celebrity lifestyle, high-profile romances, and political activism rather than a close analysis of his films. In terms of the background of the authors, Bassom is better known as a writer of companion books to the Battlestar Galactica and Babylon 5 TV series; Hudson is a specialist on The Kinks; Keenleyside is a pop-culture critic and journalist; and Johnstone is a biographer—all of which are perfectly respectable professions but none of these writers are film specialists. The availability of Joseph Kanon’s The Good German (2006), Tony Gilroy’s shooting script for Michael Clayton (2007), and Clooney’s own script for Goodnight, and Good Luck (2006), cowritten with Grant Heslov all show a substantial public appetite for reliving Clooney’s more thoughtful and literary movies.
The missing piece of the jigsaw at the moment is analysis of Clooney’s movies themselves, written by a film specialist, focusing on what we see on-screen rather than the cult of celebrity around it. This book will not be focusing on Clooney’s private life, his latest girlfriends, or his presence in the news media, except where it relates directly to what appears on-screen. It is organized into generic sections as Clooney’s work tends to fall within fairly specifically defined areas. A key element of the book is to consider how far he remains within generic expectations, when and how he pushes boundaries, and whether this succeeds. The development of an on-screen persona is not necessarily a simple sequential process. Movies may not be released in the order they were made, some will be screened (sometimes repeatedly) on television, and not everything will be seen by every viewer. Comments will focus on Clooney’s starring roles but there is inevitably consideration of the films’ broader strengths and weaknesses. Those films where Clooney also directs are given proportionately more space.
Overt plot summaries will be avoided; but since at the time of writing, Clooney has played a significant part in over 35 films and not every reader will have seen all of these, there will be some reference to narrative features in passing to help follow the points being made. At the
time of writing, neither The Descendants nor The Ides of March had been released in Europe, so the book can make only limited comment on these films.
What Are Stars For?
It is tempting to think that there have always been movie stars as long as there have been films but this is not so. In the earliest days of the medium’s development, particularly 1895–1905, films were extremely short, sometimes only a few seconds long, focused on one action, often comedic or spectacular, and figures were held in long-shot, making identification of individual actors difficult. In Edwin S. Porter’s 11-minute Great Train Robbery (1903), although the narrative structure shows an evolving complexity, it was still possible for Gilbert M. “Broncho Billy” Anderson to play several roles (a passenger, a dancer, and a bandit). It was not until the close-up became more widespread, particularly through the films of D. W. Griffith, that individual actors could be seen clearly and were part of engaging narratives so that audiences would associate a role with a specific actor. Thus from Griffith’s Birth of a Nation (1915) onward, and particularly after the end of World War I and the waning of the French film industry, the notion of the Hollywood movie star evolved, alongside other developments such as a realization by the studios of how stars could be used to promote films and how their interests were best served by putting stars under contract, meaning in turn that they (stars and studios) became associated with particular genres as it became the most profitable way to make films and increased the power and reach of Hollywood.
Film theorists have approached the issue in a number of different, but related ways. For Richard Dyer, star images are made up of four elements: features promoted by the film industry, the response of critics, the utterances and actions of stars themselves, and the reactions of audiences.1 Susan Hayward states that stars are constructs, “representing something that actually isn’t there” that we accept as real, which might equally be applied to the whole cinematic apparatus as well as the notion of fictional narratives.2 Christine Gledhill suggests that stars are made up of three elements: a real person, a “reel” person (on-screen character), and a star “persona,” which is a combination of the previous two. She argues that stars communicate with audiences primarily culturally, historically, and through bodily appearance, particularly with regard to female stars.3 As idealized versions of our best selves, audiences do not always respond well to images of ageing, preferring the escapism of beauty and glamor. This has led to a scarcity of roles for older women, although perhaps with role models like Helen Mirren still finding work, attitudes are starting to change. Discussions of stars often use examples who are from the heyday of the studio era and nearly always female, like Marilyn Monroe, but the prime example chosen for this book is the most consistent leading man of the modern era: George Clooney.
Audiences come with expectations of stars. For Hayward, there are basically two different modes of acting. On the one hand, a star can play roles in line with his or her perceived personality, which might be termed “personification.” Mid-career Arnold Schwarzenegger movies with his trademark catchphrase “I’ll be back” establish a compact with the audience, who expect certain thrills (which can also be played with for comic effect). Alternatively, the actor might not play any element of his or her star persona but disappear into a role completely, which might be termed “impersonation.” Actors who can (and who studios allow) to operate in this manner, such as Meryl Streep, are particularly rare. The demands of such acting are much greater and marketing is more challenging, so audiences do not always know exactly what to expect, leading in turn to mixed critical and commercial reactions. The tagline for Rob Epstein’s Howl (2010) runs “James Franco is Allen Ginsberg.” The idea that an actor is completely immersed in a role becomes the dominant marketing strategy for the film. Filmmakers will usually try to find a balance of recognizable features (allowing an audience to place a film in their own personal viewing experience) with limited surprise and innovation. Too much of the first element and you have just another formulaic movie; too much of the second and audiences will feel a star is miscast.
Star as a Reflection of Cultural Value
Stars clearly constitute points of identification in a movie, as either a reflection of our own concerns or an escapist fantasy that allows us to forget them. Stars are often at pains in interviews to stress just how normal and down-to-earth they are, while living in homes the size and value of which we can only dream about. They are a focus of wish fulfillment, as better versions of ourselves: wealthier, healthier, better-looking, and more successful. The link might be quite minor, for example with fans copying a particular stylistic look or fashion statement (like Jennifer Aniston’s hair in the mid-1990s), or more substantial, for example as a full-time occupation as a look-alike. If the process of identification is too complete, we have an obsessive devotion to the object of adoration, we continually follow the life of the individual, and we imagine that there is a real emotional bond between star and fan, now dubbed a stalker.
Historically, male stars have been associated with particular genres, like Jimmy Cagney (gangster movie), John Wayne (western or war film), or Harrison Ford (action adventure), and act as a mirror for those qualities, which a culture and an era find attractive (put simply, boys want to be them; girls want to be with them). Such cultural values clearly change over time (Clark Gable might be seen as cool for smoking but Clooney would not today). Names are a key part of the fantasy world of stardom as distinct from everyday life. Clooney has chosen to keep his name, which was already connected to a certain level of stardom. His father, Nick Clooney, was a regional news anchor in Cincinnati and his aunt, Rosemary, was a major singing star in the 1950s. Clooney seems to have learned from such family connections about the fickle nature of fame and that it pays to take chances with projects that may not be possible once one’s star power has waned.
Stars both reflect and generate shifting cultural values, and when stars cease to echo these, their resonance with an audience fades. Tom Cruise’s Scientology and his eccentric behavior in interviews, and Mel Gibson’s alleged problems with alcohol, domestic violence, and accusations of racism, threaten the pact that they have with viewers. If the excesses of a star’s lifestyle (usually related to drink, drugs, or sex) appear to cross the bounds of what any given society deems to be acceptable, then offers of work start to dry up and products/studios start to distance themselves from a star. Ironically, if they were a rock star, such behavior might seem almost obligatory, but in the world of movies, the status of role model carries higher expectations about personal behavior.
Star as Managed Brand
Modern stardom is a branding exercise. Like Bob (Bill Murray) in Lost in Translation (Sofia Coppola, 2003), a movie star today might spend as much of his or her time endorsing products, like clothing lines, perfumes, or toys, as creating new films, so that names themselves literally become brands, like J-Lo or Beyoncé. Clooney, who abandoned plans for his own personal fragrance in 2010, appears in a series of Nespresso commercials (2006–present), discussed in chapter 9.
Part of the role of a star is to supply extrafilmic material for the circulation of comment about them. This includes not only interviews and photo shoots but also premieres and festivals, the latter of which are a particularly contrived affair. Cannes might well be a financial marketplace as film producers try to strike deals with distributors, but a large part of the media coverage is devoted to the appearance of stars. Like Tom Cruise’s established act at charming the crowd at premieres, talking on cell phones borrowed from the crowd and happy to have his photo taken, so Clooney is also a regular at festivals, in Venice in particular.
In an age of media agents, PR consultants, and complex and sophisticated media campaigns, leaked stories, and off-the-record comments, the stories that swirl around stars are part of a carefully managed 24-hour media discourse. Negative publicity surrounding the conduct of the star can damage that brand, even at the level of unsubstantiated rumor or extremely loose connection,
such as Clooney’s appearance in a long list of potential witnesses in the trial of former Italian prime minister, Silvio Berlusconi. Friendly chats with David Letterman or Jay Leno are part of a media campaign, sometimes subtle, sometimes not, to promote a specific product. Questions are agreed to beforehand, avoiding no-go areas, which are often related to personal matters. Occasional mismatches occur and stars walk out of live interviews, but then this becomes the story itself, generating the magic substance being sought in the first place: publicity.
Stars also feed some of these perceptions. Clooney’s activism for causes such as raising awareness over the situation in Darfur or natural disasters like the earthquake in Haiti, and their humanitarian consequences, illustrates his dilemma. If the media show an interest in him, he may as well use it as constructively as he can, but at the same time if he wants people to listen to what he says on serious extrafilmic issues, he must also accept that this will happen only as a result of publicity generated elsewhere.
Star as Deviant
In terms of sexuality, there used to be so-called “lavender” weddings, supported by studios, to cover up homosexuality, deemed by some to be immoral. Clooney’s cultivation of a screen image akin to a modern-day Cary Grant also links him (in terms of era) with figures like Rock Hudson, who felt forced to construct such a veneer of heterosexuality to conceal his real sexual identity; and as a man, almost universally feted for his good looks, currently unmarried, Clooney is not an unnatural object of attention for gay viewers.
Clooney has clearly been angered at particular points in his career by actions of the paparazzi and popular press (both print and online). However, this is a difficult and reciprocal relationship as the media need stories to feed their insatiable desire for words and pictures, the more scandalous the better, and stars need publicity, preferably positive, but also privacy. One cannot live without the other. When the photographers held their cameras aloft in protest at the premiere for The Peacemaker in 1997 and refused to take Clooney’s picture in response to his boycott of Entertainment Tonight and Hard Copy, after they had published unauthorized photos, it underlined his precarious position. As much as he may be right about media responsibility and integrity, there are always other stars to photograph. He might make a great movie, but if audiences do not hear about it or experience a barrage of negative publicity and choose not to see it, then his status as a star and an artist is diminished.