Johnny Simmons

            

I don’t think I’ve ever really cared to explicitly define what qualifies as a forgotten character. In the actual series I’ve covered performances like Ethan Hawke in Training Day – who was forgotten, even though he’s the film’s protagonist and I was tempted to include actors like Lucas Black – who was a necessity in Get Low, in a strong supporting role, but who’s been forgotten almost everyone or Matt Damon in True Grit, who’s not quite exceptional but has gotten almost no recognition for his stoic LeBoeuf. But, ideally, a forgotten character is one of those characters coasting on the sidelines of the narrative, and in their thankless roles become forgotten when the film succeeds. They’re sometimes necessary as the impetus for certain plot-points but because they’ve been written in such a way they never get to be more than a flat character (on paper at least). Some actors can make that work for themselves, though. So, my official Encore Awards begin with a miscellaneous category.

 

In a way Hawkins’ natural cadence seems all wrong for the very serious Miss Lucy, but it’s to her credit that the entire arc at Hailsham seems to depend on her performance. There’s something self-effacing about her without being coy, all the while managing to be that sort of perfect teacher that every child hopes for. She understands enough to play Lucy as a projection of Cathy’s memory, without making her too saccharine, though. (Highlight: Conversation with Cathy.)

After the credits roll (well, the first time) I couldn’t stop thinking about Jones’ Marylin The thing is I’ve always liked Jones, but I’m not being biased when I think of all the little ticks she imbues in a character that’s barely there on the page. She’s able to show Marylin having that slight star struck response to Zuckerberg but still managing to maintain her professionalism, even if you get the sense that she’s sort of contented in being a little silly at times. (Highlight: Her blink-and-you’ll-miss-it laughter during Eduardo’s chicken scenario.)

 

Like everything about Scott Pilgrim vs the World, I was unprepared to be as wholly charmed by Kendrick as I was. Even if she seems too aged to be playing Cera’s younger sister her vocal tics and annoying traits – that aren’t so annoying – are just a few parts of the small things that work so well in this movie. She has a firm grip on the character, even if it is sort of the perpetually gossip-y teen that still feels like something fresh. (Highlight: “I’m literally about to leave!”)

I like Max Minghella a whole lot, even though I’ve only seen him in one other film. Everyone seems enamoured (rightfully so, I suppose) with Armie “porn star name” Hammer’s performance but I’m even more impressed with Minghella’s work if only because I find him funniest and most sincere. He’s sort of annoying without ever really being annoying, in fact he’s even likeable sometimes. And Hammer sort of loses me when he imbues the Winklevoss’ with those vaguely unlikeable traits unnecessarily, the script is already least infatuated with them. He’s actually trying to make Divya interesting, if not amiable. (Highlight: Tripping over his feet in horror when he sees that The Facebook has gone live.)

 

I’m not certain how much this qualifies because this seems a slight bit more than a small character, but when you really think about it Williams really doesn’t have much of a role. She’s playing a memory, and unlike Mal in Inception even if she does provide the climax of the tale she’s not as constant. But she completely sells it given one of the strongest performances I’ve seen her. (Highlight: The revelation, of course.)

FINALISTS: Tammy Blanchard in Rabbit Hole; Yaya DaCosta in The Kids Are All Right; Viola Davis in Eat Pray Love; Crispin Glover in Alice in Wonderland; Cillian Murphy in Inception

SEMI-FINALISTS: Michael Gambon in The King’s Speech; Artie Hammer in The Social Network; Cherry Jones in Mother & Child; Johnny Simons in Scott Pilgrim vs the World; Mae Whitman in Scott Pilgrim vs the World

        

So, we begin 2010 in Review in Encore’s World, of the top 5 ultimate forgotten who made the biggest impression on you? Williams’ haunting wife? Kendrick’s droning sister? Or the lone male nominee, Minghella? Which forgotten character of 2010 do you wish would get some love?

The Social Network in a way defies logic. If it was written out as a musical scale the first ten minutes would be in accelerando. You’d expect that eventually that would have to cease and the consistent popping dialogue of the opening would abate, you’d be wrong. I could probably preface my review by indicating that I’m not a member of facebook and have a general lack of interest in social network sites but that statement would not only be innocuous, it’d be superfluous too. True, underneath it’s sophistication, witty dialogue and snazzy direction The Social Network seems to exist technically as a biopic but when stripped to the bare essentials it’s less about the founding members of facebook. It’s not even an assessment of society’s flawed values – at least not in absolution. At its core its basis is really just one of the simplest of paradigms – battling friends. This estimation isn’t a slight at the film itself because the fact that Sorkin’s screenplay and Fincher’s direction manage to turn this decidedly primeval concept into this is only proof of how much they’ve got going for them.

I’m not the least interested in how accurate the story is, my favourite biopic (a term I use loosely) is The Lion in Winter which is probably more accurately classified as literary/historic fiction. Like The Lion in Winter The Social Network depends – slavishly so at times – on its writing. Sorkin has an ear for dialogue, he’s always had this gift what he’s been lacking is a director to complement this and Fincher doesn’t emerge as the obvious choice. Truth be told I’ve always admired Fincher’s ability to turn good scripts into excellent ventures. He doesn’t strike you as the obvious subtle director but in his mindfulness of technique it all ends up the same place in a weird way. There’s a line where Eduardo turns to Mark and Sean and says, “Sorry, my Prada is at the cleaners, along with hoodie and “fuck you” flip flops”. It’s a line that has the potential to be so tongue-in-cheek I almost cringe, because that right there could be an indicator of The Social Network potential flaw. There’s a thin line between being cool and trying too hard but somehow Fincher manages to make it work. There’s a whole lot that’s going on, maybe even too much but for some reason it works. Maybe it’s because Fincher is able to match Sorkin’s relentless onslaught of dialogue with a direction that’s simultaneously exuberant and snazzy and yet interesting enough to distract us from the fact that the dialogue is the movie. It’s not that Fincher’s direction is smoke and mirrors but it ends up like communications theory – the means really is the message (or vice versa)

It’s this pop-pop-pop nature of the film that concurrently pushes its actors to step up their game while preventing from getting the usual “best performance” edicts that one would anticipate from a standard biopic. The Social Network is an ensemble film in absolution, and I’d be the first to point out a number of the cast members for individual awards. There doesn’t seem to be a false note among the cast and whether that’s Fincher’s niche casting or just the talent of the group is beyond me. Really, I’m least interested. It would be impractical of me to look under the hood and see what keeps The Social Network running: Eisenberg grounds the film, he’s the lead after all (a de facto one somewhat) but I’m as impressed with his turn as I am with Rashida Jones who has about ten minutes of screentime with a character that should be insignificant but emerges as one of my favourites of the film. It’s difficult to measure if Andrew Garfield, Justin Timberlake or Rooney Mara plays their roles best. Each has varying screen-time, each nails their performances. I’m not sure what algorithm Fincher and Sorkin use but the The Social Network works. I won’t say that it’ll be the film that defines our generation or whatnot, I mean who can really tell that sort of things until it happens. I will admit that after having been privy to a long spell of movies I was always somewhat reticent about I didn’t even realise that I was in need of a good 2010 film. When The Social Network finished I had that sort of naive feeling that cinema really was the greatest art form. It’s probably like the drunken stupor that Zuckerberg experiences at the film’s beginning – but that doesn’t make it any less real to me. I hate to sound sycophantic, but I’m a fan – a big one.