![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Casting decisions.
May. 23rd, 2011 10:55 amI sometimes happen across the Star Wars prequels on TV and end up watching a bit of them in a sort of vague hope that by a process of wishing and magic they might have suddenly become the good films I wanted them to be. It never works, but every time I watch them I marvel at whatever process it was led to the casting of Hayden 'Balsa Boy' Christensen in the lead. The original films had plenty of hokey dialogue but the star wattage of Harrison Ford carried it - and that's an achievement which was beyond the length of knotty pine jiggling up and down in front of a green screen which was the extent of Hayden's acting abilities.
I don't know if you've seen Spiderman 3, another rotten film, but that was to some extent saved by a fantastic performance by James Franco and it's at moments like this I find myself wondering how much better, say, Attack of the Clones might have been with him in the lead.
Casting decisions can make or break a film or a scene. There's no way at all there'd've been any sequels to Pirates of the Caribbean if Jim Carrey had been cast as Jack Sparrow rather than Jonny Depp, and I'm sure we can all think of other examples; and sometimes you hear of a casting decision and your heart sinks into your boots with a sense that things are going to go horribly wrong with the finished product. That at some point in the coming film, you're going to be yanked vigorously from the narrative as a horrifically miscast character blunders through your willing suspension of disbelief and ruins the experience.
And that's pretty much the feeling I got when I heard the Stephen Fry has been cast as the Master of Lake-Town in Peter Jackson's upcoming The Hobbit.
Now, Fry has a lot going for him. He's a clever and funny man, wildly popular on Twitter and with a tremendous body of work behind him. The big problem is that he's only capable of playing one character, and that character is Stephen Fry. He's put a lot of work into the role over the years and really made it his and casting anyone else as Stephen Fry would be churlish, but by the same coin casting Stephen Fry as anyone else is downright strange. I'm just filled with a depressing, gnawing feeling of presentment that at some point in 2012 I'll be watching the film and there'll be ten minutes of amusing, half-arch, half-pooterish gurning at the camera which I'll spend thinking Well, this sucks before we get back the richly realised and immersive filmmaking.
There's really only one way Fry's casting can possibly work in the narrative, and it's this:
“Dash it all, Jeeves,” I expostulated, “you might have warned me Aunt Agatha was on her way. I thought she was safely ensconced with the Sackville-Bagginses. What in blazes can have brought her out here to Daletown? It’s hardly the season, you know.”
“I beg your pardon, sir. I fear you misunderstand me. When I said ‘the old dragon is on its way’ I was alluding not to Mrs Gregson, but to Smaug, the Bane of the Lonely Mountain. It would appear that his ire has been roused by the inopportune activities of a number of dwarvish individuals. He appears to be seeking immediate redress.”
I pondered this. “Smaug, you say?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Not Aunt Agatha?”
“No, sir.”
“You’re sure about that?” I asked. I was anxious to be clear on this point, as the two are easily confused.
“Quite sure, sir.”
“Well,” I said, “that puts a different complexion on things. Jeeves,” I said, holding out a resolute hand, “pass me my longbow.”
The devoted retainer gave an ominous sort of cough.
“Well, Jeeves,” I said impatiently, “what is it now?”
“Not, if I may say so, sir, in those plus-fours.”
I don't know if you've seen Spiderman 3, another rotten film, but that was to some extent saved by a fantastic performance by James Franco and it's at moments like this I find myself wondering how much better, say, Attack of the Clones might have been with him in the lead.
Casting decisions can make or break a film or a scene. There's no way at all there'd've been any sequels to Pirates of the Caribbean if Jim Carrey had been cast as Jack Sparrow rather than Jonny Depp, and I'm sure we can all think of other examples; and sometimes you hear of a casting decision and your heart sinks into your boots with a sense that things are going to go horribly wrong with the finished product. That at some point in the coming film, you're going to be yanked vigorously from the narrative as a horrifically miscast character blunders through your willing suspension of disbelief and ruins the experience.
And that's pretty much the feeling I got when I heard the Stephen Fry has been cast as the Master of Lake-Town in Peter Jackson's upcoming The Hobbit.
Now, Fry has a lot going for him. He's a clever and funny man, wildly popular on Twitter and with a tremendous body of work behind him. The big problem is that he's only capable of playing one character, and that character is Stephen Fry. He's put a lot of work into the role over the years and really made it his and casting anyone else as Stephen Fry would be churlish, but by the same coin casting Stephen Fry as anyone else is downright strange. I'm just filled with a depressing, gnawing feeling of presentment that at some point in 2012 I'll be watching the film and there'll be ten minutes of amusing, half-arch, half-pooterish gurning at the camera which I'll spend thinking Well, this sucks before we get back the richly realised and immersive filmmaking.
There's really only one way Fry's casting can possibly work in the narrative, and it's this:
“Dash it all, Jeeves,” I expostulated, “you might have warned me Aunt Agatha was on her way. I thought she was safely ensconced with the Sackville-Bagginses. What in blazes can have brought her out here to Daletown? It’s hardly the season, you know.”
“I beg your pardon, sir. I fear you misunderstand me. When I said ‘the old dragon is on its way’ I was alluding not to Mrs Gregson, but to Smaug, the Bane of the Lonely Mountain. It would appear that his ire has been roused by the inopportune activities of a number of dwarvish individuals. He appears to be seeking immediate redress.”
I pondered this. “Smaug, you say?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Not Aunt Agatha?”
“No, sir.”
“You’re sure about that?” I asked. I was anxious to be clear on this point, as the two are easily confused.
“Quite sure, sir.”
“Well,” I said, “that puts a different complexion on things. Jeeves,” I said, holding out a resolute hand, “pass me my longbow.”
The devoted retainer gave an ominous sort of cough.
“Well, Jeeves,” I said impatiently, “what is it now?”
“Not, if I may say so, sir, in those plus-fours.”
