So Ariel Castro, convicted of sexually preying on three
young women held captive for a decade in the basement of his Cleveland
home, complained at his sentencing hearing that “these people are trying to
paint me as a monster and I'm not a monster.” He insisted, "I'm not a violent person. I simply kept
them there so they couldn't leave.” He explained that “I'm just sick. I have an
addiction. Just like an alcoholic has an addiction.” Despite it all, said
Castro, “I'm a happy person inside.”
Years ago, when Roger Corman was newly back from
filming his scenes as the FBI chief in Jonathan Demme’s Silence of the Lambs, he told me that Anthony Hopkins was sure to
be Oscar-nominated for his portrayal of Hannibal Lecter. But Hopkins wouldn’t
win, said Roger, because his character was so monstrous that no one would vote
to reward him with Hollywood’s highest acting prize. Well, Roger was wrong on
that one. At the 1992 Oscar ceremony, Silence
of the Lambs picked up five statuettes, including best actor for Hopkins.
(He beat out such notables as Warren Beatty for Bugsy and Robin Williams for The
Fisher King. Also on the short list was Robert De Niro as another maniacal
killer in Cape Fear.) My point is
that increasingly, in today’s Hollywood, we tend to root for the bad guy.
Of course years ago actors like James Cagney became famous
for playing bad guys, in such gangster films as White Heat. But Cagney’s three Oscar nominations were not for his
most monstrous roles, and his single win rewarded him for playing George M.
Cohan in the oh-so-wholesome Yankee
Doodle Dandy. How times have changed!
By all accounts, Denzel Washington is one of the good guys
in private life. But his one Best Actor Oscar came when he played a
down-and-dirty rogue cop in Training Day (2001).
Though Daniel Day-Lewis won his third Oscar for portraying Abraham Lincoln, his
second recognized his work as the terrifyingly ruthless oil magnate in There Will Be Blood (2007). That same year,
Javier Bardem won the Best Supporting Actor statuette as a psychopathic killer
in No Country for Old Men. One year
later, the Oscar in this category went to an even more outrageous bad guy,
Heath Ledger as the Joker in The Dark
Knight. And in 2009, Academy voters showed Oscar love for Christoph Waltz,
playing a smooth-talking but thoroughly evil Nazi in Inglourious Basterds.
Why do we like these bad guys, at least in their on-screen
incarnations? They’re certainly not boring. They have energy; they have
panache; they have chutzpah. Those of us who’ve worked on Roger Corman-style
genre films know that success in the movie marketplace often hinges on having a
truly great villain. In real life, alas, villains can be attractive too. Just
look at how Adolf Hitler managed to sweep so many Europeans off their feet.
But a guy like Ariel Castro? It’s hard to imagine who would
find him attractive. I can’t see him being portrayed on a movie screen as mad,
bad, dangerous, and therefore exciting. Instead, he seems grotesquely pathetic.
Much like, in some ways, the killer in Silence
of the Lambs. Not the smart, savvy Hannibal Lecter, but rather Buffalo
Bill, who brutally incarcerated female victims in order to indulge his sexual
kinks. Hannah Arendt’s famous phrase
about Nazi Germany, “the banality of evil,” springs to mind. I don’t know
precisely how you define a “monster,” but it seems to require some superhuman
quality. Ariel Castro, though, is all too human: just a sick and scary man.
That he is.
ReplyDeleteWe do like our villains - and we do like them larger than life. I think the closest cinematic equivalent to Ariel Castro so far would be the baddie from the Vanishing - Raymond (Bernard-Pierre Donnadieu) in the 1988 original / Barney (Jeff Bridges) in the 1993 Americanized remake - a drip of a husband and father - but filled with evil and inhumanity beyond belief. I suspect if there is a filmic version of the Castro story - it will be a TV movie for Lifetime or some such - as this doesn't qualify as a "tentpole" or "event" movie - I mean - how much CGI can you stick in a suburban house and basement?
I didn't see either version of The Vanishing. Do you think Castro's story would attract a Lifetime audience? Maybe if the heroics of the women was the focus.
ReplyDeleteBy the way, Mr. C., the phrase "banality of evil" reminds me of the apparently humdrum but absolutely crazy leading character in The Stepfather, played in the 1987 version by Terry O'Quinn.
ReplyDelete