Daniel Day-Lewis: A Contemplation

I have been a fan of Daniel Day-Lewis ever since I was captivated by his raw, passionately intense portrayal of 'Gerry Conlon' in Jim Sheridan's masterful 'In the name of the Father'. Day-lewis' ability to go above and beyond of what's required from an actor is awe-inspiring. Regarding his staggering commitment to 'Method' acting, it's no surprise that his name and performances are mentioned in the same breath as those of Brando, De Niro and Pacino. Not only does his work cement him as the leading 'Method' actor of his generation but also as the outstanding actor of the last twenty years.

His versatility and range as an actor is illustrated throughout an incandescent career. From mastering and trancending physical acting with a bravura performance as 'Christy Brown' in Sheridan's 'My Left Foot', to producing a naturalistic masterclass with 'In the name of the Father', to a brilliant stylised performance as the brutal, merciless 'Bill 'the Butcher' in Martin Scorsese's 'Gangs of New York'. Noting only three illustrious performance after heralding a glorious twenty-plus year career seems somewhat mystifying no doubt. However, those of you that are familiar with Day-lewis will be fully aware of his tendency to be highly selective of his roles, only commiting his unearthly talent to the most complex and daring of characters. Although 'My Left Foot', 'In the Name of the Father' and 'Gangs of New York' are his defining performance to date, Day-Lewis has also produced an array of highly commendable and indeed often excellent performance in lesser known films such as 'My Beautiful Laundrette', 'The Age of Innocence', 'The Crucible' or 'The Boxer'. His admirable body of work is a showcase of limitless versatility, depthless range, absorbing emotion and finely-layered characterisation.

His work is his art, to watch Day-Lewis act is a unique experience because when we've finished watching one of his great performances we feel as if we've just experienced a real life person being dissected on-screen. The depth of Day-Lewis' realism is unique. Whilst with the vast majority of actors we watch there's always the underlying feeling that we're watching the actor ACTING, if that makes sense. We see the actor manipulating and fabricating the emotion and mannerisms of a character, there's very little sense of sincerity in the performance, or more specifically, 'the truth'. It's almost like watching a magician show a magic trick that you already know the secret to. This isn't the case with the great actors, like Mr Day-Lewis. His on-screen work is filled with real magic, without illusions. The sincerity and naturalism of his acting means he compels us to the degree that we don't see the on-screen illusion because we're transfixed by it, we're apart of the character's world meaning we contemplate it as real almost. There's no brevity to Day-Lewis' emotion, what he commits to screen is something that burns with us long after we've watched the performance. Something which lingers and probes at us, pushing us to consider the performance, to dissect the character or to realise the construction of the characterisation. 

Appreciating Day-Lewis isn't hard. Although there's a natural urge to dissect and analyse his work to the utmost ends, it really shouldn't be that case. I can, and have, orate about what makes him brilliant but appreciating that greatness can only be understood by just simply watching him perform. That sensation of knowing you're witnessing something special just confounds you, it leaves you wanting more but wholly satisfied.

Al Pacino's Greatest Performance

Frank Serpico....

Somewhat of a surprise for some but this performance, regardless of what you may say about 'The Panic in Needle Park' or 'The Godfather', was the film that Pacino really had to carry virtually on his own. The film itself is good, not great, but has had the unfortunate tendency to be shrowed among a monsoon of other 70s crime thrillers that happen to be similar in tone and execution (But lack the film's moral compass). 

What elevates the film is Pacino, no question. What he offers is arguably his most vivid and embracing characterization work to date. Every element that is associated with Pacino's greatest is abundantly evident in his performance. We see tremendous explosions of intensity and rage, disarming moments of humour, and truly engulfing nuances of subtle emoting. 

Perhaps what is the standout element that encapsulates the greatness of Pacino's work in 'Serpico', is how the development of Serpico's precarious situation and the range of emotion that the character endures during his journey, is all quite brilliantly conveyed in such a subtle, engrossing manner by Pacino. The fear, doubt, anger, dejection, sorrow, frustration and morality of Frank Serpico is layered in every grimace, gesture and glance that Pacino manifests on-screen. The film has such a slow pacing but it allows Pacino's characterization to breathe and develop naturally and not be forced, credit to Sidney Lumet (Also Evident with 'Dog Day Afternoon'). 

In many ways what you have with Pacino in 'Serpico' alludes to De Niro in 'Taxi Driver'. Both performances share a common emotional arc which, although different in context, are exhibited and pursued in very discret, quiet moments of acting that consumes the audience to the point that by the closing of the film, a catharsis can be reached. Both an emotional connection and understanding of motivation, if not necessarily sympathy or admiration, are established and very difficult to question on the basis of the integrity of realism apparent in both performances. 

Essentially, very little of Pacino's inner conflict is explored verbally, like with 'Dog Day Afternoon' or 'Scarface'. 'Serpico' illustrates Pacino's acting at it's most subtle, alluring and vivid. That slow, masterful progression of frustration, anger and conviction of indentity, is played out by Pacino in a fashion that I find unique to his other great works. His portrayal of Frank Serpico showcases Pacino's depth, versatility and ability to create lush strokes of tremendous emotion on the screen by appearing to do, or say, very little. 

The greatest complement of for any actor applies to this performance, which is, that when I watch Serpico I believe I'm watching Frank Serpico, living and behaving, not the actor Al Pacino.

Drive (2011)

Directed by Nicholas Winding Refn and starring one of today's most exciting actors, Ryan Gosling, 'Drive' is one of the best and coolest films in recent years. A Hollywood stunt-car driver who moonlights as a getaway driver. However, forced to protect a friend he finds himself a marked man after a deal gone wrong.

The film in many ways is anti-Hollywood in it's style and execution. Nicholas Winding Refn's brash European style which set 'Bronson' apart in terms of style and tone, is again extremely evident with 'Drive'. European dance/techno music permeates and accentuates many of the scenes, creating an atmosphere unique to many films. The film's music hints at the protagonists' distance, morality and steeliness without suffocating the audience with it.  Nicholas Winding Refn draws out many scenes with elaborate, silent sequences that verge on the hypnotic. Action scenes play out in slow-motion at times, ranging from the stark and brutal to a sort of balletic beauty of entanglement. 


Apart from Drive's protagonist, supporting character's offer simplistic dimensions of purpose or emotion: The distressed female, merciless gangster, benevolent friend and the token child. However, their sparseness lends to the sense of emptiness, futility and direct nature of the film. Dialogue is infrequent to say the least but Refn communicates a lot of the film's musings on sacrifice, identity and morality through imagery and silence.


Gosling's performance is probably his best work as an actor. His performance is subtle, restraint and highly effective in quietly emoting the inner confines of the character. Everything from voice to mannerisms, Gosling provides a richly nuanced and evocative performance that has shades of De Niro's 'Travis Bickle' in 'Taxi Driver'.


The film is a must-see! Essentially it is a quietly abrasive and forceful picture that alludes to the sensation of falling asleep in the middle of a blitzkrieg.