Chapter 5: Acting

Essay: The Star System and "Star Vehicles"

Only the public can make a star. It's the studios who try to make a system out of it. Marilyn Monroe (quoted in Giannetti and Eyman)

The star system consists of Hollywood's mechanisms for developing and promoting film stars, a system that began during the silent era and continues in greatly altered form today. To fully appreciate the role of stars in narrative films, we need to have a general sense of how the star system works and a general sense of the various ways spectators respond to stars.

The System

From the earliest days of cinema, stars have been used to publicize films and thus to increase box office revenue. During the height of the studio era, in the 1930s, '40s, and '50s, stars were held to strict employment contracts binding them to particular studios. Studio producers and heads determined which films stars would make and whether they were to be loaned out to other studios:

The majors viewed their stars as valuable investments, as "properties." Promising neophytes served an apprenticeship as "starlets," a term reserved for females, though male newcomers were subjected to the same treatment. They were often assigned a new name, were given a characteristic "look" (usually in imitation of a reigning favorite), and were taught how to talk, walk, and wear costumes. Frequently they had their social schedules arranged by the publicity department to insure maximum press exposure. Suitable "romances" were arranged to fuel the columns of the four hundred and more reporters who covered the Hollywood beat during the studio era. . . . The studios received up to 32 million fan letters per week, 85 percent of them from young females. Major stars received about three thousand letters per week, and the volume of their mail was regarded as an accurate gauge of their popularity. (Giannetti and Eyman 124)

Of course, the more popular and wealthy stars became, the more they sought to control their own careers. By the late 1950s, stars had begun to work independently of the studio system. By the 1970s, even successful actors who weren't quite stars were free to choose (with the help of powerful talent agents) which films they wanted to appear in. Today, major film stars influence which films get made and when. When a director and a star find a script they both want to make, they will sometimes present it as an attractive "package deal" to producers eager to fund a potential box office success. When filmmakers base projects on the talents, images, and personality traits of particular stars, we call the resulting films star vehicles .

Vintage PHOTOPLAY magazine cover

The Media

While movies are stars' primary medium, other media such as print, radio, and television significantly extend and contribute to stars' images and popularity. Promotional advertising and publicity help fuel their careers. Studios, agents, and stars control and pay for advertising to promote films, television series, books, and other products. Publicity costs the stars nothing, because it is produced by media outlets that use stars to promote their own products: magazines, newspapers, tabloids, radio and television shows, and so forth.

Perhaps more important than either promotions or publicity is word-of-mouth —the informal, dynamic, always-shifting discussions of real people, who decide which public figures are worth discussing. Film theorists who specialize in star analysis, such as Richard Dyer and Paul McDonald, emphasize that we must look beyond stars' film performances to understand those stars' roles in popular culture and their impacts on particular films. Studio promotional materials, fan discussions, and the coverage of stars in tabloids and on talk shows all contribute to the real and perceived (and sometimes real because perceived) power of stars.

The Spectators

Because stars are cultural icons, all of us respond differently to stars than we do to character actors or unknowns. Society ascribes highly valued traits and cultural ideals to its stars, and fans often hold stars up as role models. Many film scholars and students of popular culture have speculated about the psychology of the spectators upon whom stars depend. Some have suggested that audiences perceive stars as ego ideals , figures who are better, stronger, wiser, more powerful than we are. Perhaps one social function of the fictional world of the narrative film is to provide a dreamlike realm for ego-nurturing fantasizing. Although the details and mechanisms of identification remain subjects for debate, we know that spectators identify with the talent, charm, looks, power, and success of stars, even though, as anyone who has read a star biography or met a star knows, movie stars are mortal and imperfect.

People both inside and outside show business, however, acknowledge that stars possess something that sets them apart from the crowd. Photographers, cinematographers, and other visual professionals, for example, call people photogenic when they are "loved" by the camera. A photogenic face is not necessarily a classically beautiful or handsome one. Boris Karloff starred in countless horror films, such as James Whale's Frankenstein (1931) and Karl Freund's The Mummy (1932), precisely because his features were photogenic in an arresting, potentially "monstrous" way.

Long before he appeared in campy, low-budget features such as Don Weis's The Ghost in the Invisible Bikini (1966) and Jack Hill and Juan Ibáñez's Isle of the Snake People (1968), Karloff had been typecast —always handed the "sinister" role, never made the romantic lead, the daredevil, or the helpful sidekick. Narrative films often rely on character types , standardized roles such as the jealous husband, the bitter old man, the sexy airhead, and so on. Stars typically begin their careers playing such types, but soon become bigger than one type: "For example, the cheap blonde has long been one of America's favorite types, but such important stars as Mae West, Jean Harlow, and Marilyn Monroe are highly distinctive as individuals" (Giannetti and Eyman 127). A star known for playing decent and upstanding figures (Gary Cooper, Jimmy Stewart, Denzel Washington) may want to protect that image and will avoid playing sleazy and villainous characters. Sometimes, however, that same star will seek to be cast against type , given an atypical role, either to complicate or undermine the image, to demonstrate broad range as an actor, or to invigorate the star's career. When Denzel Washington played a corrupt cop in Antoine Fuqua's Training Day (2001) and Robin Williams played first a creepy mystery-writer-turned-killer in Christopher Nolan's Insomnia (2002) and then a creepy photo-lab-employee-turned-stalker in Mark Romanek's One Hour Photo (2002), both stars were showcasing their acting abilities by challenging their screen images as decent, trustworthy, and good men. Subversive image reversals such as these in turn shed light on the stars' primary images.

To analyze star images, we need to watch their performances in light of promotional materials, publicity sources, and fans' responses, all of which can indicate widespread ideals, fantasies, and assumptions about the stars. Most broadly, we want to relate stars' performance styles and characterizations, as well as narrative and thematic issues in their movies, to the ideals, cultural values, and/or social conflicts embodied by their images.

Case Study: Arnold Schwarzenegger

Arnold Schwarzenegger's career perfectly illustrates the interaction between a star's image and the star's body of work. Schwarzenegger's star image is grounded in the ideas of strength and fearlessness, but the phrase an Arnold Schwarzenegger movie has come to mean different things over the years. After first gaining celebrity by winning the Mr. Universe bodybuilding title at twenty, Schwarzenegger appeared in Arthur Allan Seidelman's low-budget film Hercules in New York (1970), in which his voice was dubbed and he was billed as "Arnold Strong." George Butler and Robert Fiore's nonfiction film Pumping Iron (1977) introduced the "real" Schwarzenegger to the world and showcased his charisma. Tall, with a bodybuilder physique and distinctive Austrian accent, Schwarzenegger was perfectly cast in James Cameron's The Terminator (1984). Playing a cyborg villain who kills practically everyone he meets, Schwarzenegger managed to be both brutal and likable. He made the most of his few lines in the film, turning one-liners such as "I'll be back" into trademarks. After a series of successful action films in which he demonstrated his suitability for the genre, Schwarzenegger was cast against type in Ivan Reitman's Twins (1988) and Kindergarten Cop (1990), both of which foregrounded the actor's comic potential and softer side. By 1991, the straight-faced comic, wielder of witty comebacks, and gentle giant had so taken over Schwarzenegger's star image that Cameron's Terminator 2: Judgment Day required a reprogrammed Terminator. Schwarzenegger's character transforms from the killing machine of the first film to a relatively kindly protector of a young boy—or, really, a young boy's fantasy protector, who can ride a motorcycle off a bridge, use any weapon on the planet, and successfully challenge authority figures.

In addition to his bodybuilder background, other aspects of Schwarzenegger's offscreen life that contribute to his tough-guy screen image include his commercial endorsements of the military-vehicle-turned-consumer-car the Hummer, his role as spokesperson for health and fitness organizations, his membership in the Republican Party, and (in October 2003) his being elected governor of California. His offscreen life also includes aspects that soften or balance this image of strength: his marriage to Maria Shriver (of the Democratic Kennedy clan) and his three children, his work with the Special Olympics, and his self-deprecating humor during public appearances. These contrasting sides of Schwarzenegger shape his star image as well as his performances in specific films. For instance, John McTiernan's Last Action Hero (1993) parodies Schwarzenegger's star image and the conventions of the action and science fiction film genres. Schwarzenegger plays both himself and an action movie character, Jack Slater. Slater's accidental sidekick is another young boy in danger, Danny Madigan (Austin O'Brien), who perceives Slater/Schwarzenegger the same way the spectator does: as outlandish, funny, and very cool.

In narrative film, where conflicts are resolved and cultural issues "solved" in two hours, stars often must balance their dominant traits or values with their opposites. Schwarzenegger's appearance, accent, and "wooden" acting style lend themselves to images of strength and intimidation, and so the actor has very successfully played human-killing machines. Early in his career, however, Schwarzenegger and members of the image-making industry began softening and balancing that image. Thus Schwarzenegger delivers funny one-liners with a smile, plays likable characters that protect young children, acts in the occasional comedy, and always assumes a performance style that includes a self-mocking wink at the audience.

Jack Slater-—the movie-within-a-movie	Every boy's first and last action hero
Self-reflexive celebrity within celebrity: Schwarzenegger and his wife, Maria Shriver, as themselves in Last Action Hero	Maria to Arnold: "Don't plug the restaurants or gyms-that's so tacky"
Arnold to Jack: "You're the best stunt double I've ever seen"

Case Study: Julia Roberts

Julia Roberts is the most popular and powerful female star in contemporary Hollywood—the "hottest star," according to People magazine. In Garry Marshall's Pretty Woman (1990), Roberts played Vivian Ward, the proverbial hooker with a heart of gold, whom the wealthy Edward Lewis (Richard Gere) swept up off the streets of Hollywood and into the swanky hotels and bungalows of Beverly Hills. Criticized by feminists and other social critics for romanticizing prostitution and suggesting that all a woman needs to get off the streets is a millionaire who looks like Richard Gere, Pretty Woman is essentially a naïve fairy-tale romance. To undercut Vivian's street toughness, Roberts projects a girl-next-door innocence and storybook-princess charm, a combination that catapulted her to stardom and provided the blueprint for all her future roles as a romantic comedian.

It's hard to miss Roberts's photogenic qualities, from her impossibly wide and disarming smile to her down-to-earth sexiness. In his review of Steven Soderbergh's Erin Brockovich (2000), David Edelstein describes Roberts's features in only somewhat hyperbolic terms:

Have you ever noticed how freaky Julia Roberts is? Everything is outsized—those teeth, those eyes, those coltish gams, that smile that's wider than most people's heads. Those feelers, too: She's such an edgy, hypersensitive creature that she practically gives off a hum, like high-voltage wires.

Like Audrey Hepburn, a major star of another era, Roberts balances her air of royalty with a beguiling tenderness and humility. Unlike Hepburn, Roberts can also play tough. In Erin Brokovich, Roberts portrays the title character, a self-educated, working-class secretary and mother who fights for cancer victims' medical compensation. The role, like the star's image, sends many contrasting signals at the same time.

Audrey Hepburn as the princess who takes her tiara off in William Wyler's Roman Holiday (1953)

In Roger Michell's Notting Hill (1999), Roberts plays a famous actress named Anna Scott. Hugh Grant plays William Thacker, an "ordinary" bookstore owner whose life changes profoundly when he becomes involved with Scott. A romantic comedy and a star vehicle for both Roberts and Grant, the film foregrounds the idea of celebrity and provides an opportunity to analyze the star system and its stars' images. In the frames below, Roberts appears alternately glamorous, aloof, and approachable:

Case Study: Hugh Grant

After struggling for years as an actor in British theater and a member of a comedy troupe, Hugh Grant achieved film stardom in Mike Newell's Four Weddings and a Funeral (1994), a box office hit that established Grant's star image as a nervous, bumbling, but always charming leading man in romantic comedies. A year later—when Grant was very publicly involved with model and actress Elizabeth Hurley—his offscreen arrest for public lewdness with a prostitute in his car seemed like a threat to his career; but Grant's flustered and self-deprecating performances on television talk shows redeemed him in the public eye, fitting in perfectly with his screen persona as the guy who bungles things, loses his cool, then apologizes and charms his way out of trouble. In various contexts, Grant contrasts his array of verbal, facial, and bodily tics with his matinee-idol looks and upper-class English accent:

In Four Weddings and a Funeral , Charles (Hugh Grant) tries to confess to Carrie (Andie MacDowell), in spite of her impending marriage to a rich Scotsman, that he, well, uh, how shall I say, uh, loves her

In a case of life imitating art, Grant auditioned in 1992 for a version of Shakespeare in Love that was to star Julia Roberts (Joseph Fiennes and Gwyneth Paltrow starred in John Madden's 1998 film). Auditioning with Roberts, Grant was reportedly so nervous that the actress asked him to come back a few days later and try again. Of course, by the time of Notting Hill (1999), Grant was an established star, with nervousness-whether real or feigned-as his trademark.

More facial gymnastics during another flustered-lover moment from Hugh Grant in Notting Hill

For Further Reading

Dyer, Richard and Paul McDonald. Stars . London: British Film Institute, 1998.

Edelstein, David. "The Riot Grrrl Next Door: Julia Roberts is a larger-than-life hell-raiser in Erin Brockovich ." Slate . March 17, 2000.

Giannetti, Louis and Scott Eyman. Flashback: A Brief History of Film . New Jersey: Prentice Hall, 2001.