The New Biographical Dictionary of Film: Completely Updated and Expanded (152 page)

Thus, there is still a case to be made for the quality and character of Frears’s TV work done in England. Moreover, after Baker’s observation, Frears was still to do
Bloody Kids
, the two
Walter
films, and
Saigon—Year of the Cat
. The TV work points to the director’s virtues, and needs: he surely understands the English class system, the varieties of place in Britain, and the various subterfuges that block candor (this is true even for
Saigon
, which has important English characters). In Britain, Frears established valuable creative ties with a few writers—notably Peter Prince, Alan Bennett, David Hare, and Hanif Kureishi. Also, the modesty of those ventures—in terms of budget and schedule—is close to Frears’s own personality: he is one of the least self-important of directors.

By now, it is clear that Frears does need to understand the world of his stories, and that he is frankly dependent on writers. Of course, his problem is that the British cinema does not often enough mount ventures worthy of him. But he does not want to commit to America, and he has said that he is not really happy in America when working. In so many ways he is a throwback to those classic studio directors who pretend to be assigned. In which case, British TV was his studio. As years pass, I suspect that things like
A Day Out, Sunset Across the Bay, One Fine Day
, and
Walter
will look like models of “small” cinema—rich, honest, and touching—whereas
The Grifters
and
Dangerous Liaisons
will be seen as rather empty entertainment.

Frears’s talents—his love of people, his sense of humor and pain sitting side by side, his skill with actors, and his deftness as a storyteller—are deserving of some large subject. I have a hunch it will be European rather than American. And it might be that his best chance is to provoke Alan Bennett into some final, convulsive tale. They both need that sort of danger. Until then, let him do more things like
The Snapper
—from a Roddy Doyle novel—small, quick, cheap, funny, raucous, and overflowing with life, a film that might have been made in the space (and on the budget) of one Dustin Hoffman tantrum.

Frears is still open to just about anything: a droll, rather lazy essay on British cinema; a return to live TV drama with
Fail Safe;
a couple more Irish films—
The Van
and
Liam
. He even had a modest American hit, with
High Fidelity
, based on a Nick Hornby book. But please don’t forget
Mary Reilly
, a famous failure but a remarkably frightening film, very well acted by Julia Roberts and John Malkovich. It all goes to prove his characteristic deflection of high praise (which he deserves) that, after all, he’s likely to do anything.

Dirty Pretty Things
and
The Deal
were a terrific one-two—a sly, subtle feature about the racial underside of London and a drama about Tony Blair and Gordon Brown that eclipsed so many miles of standard TV spin on current affairs. With ups and downs, this begins to be one of the great casual careers in film.

Thus, two “lapses”—Mrs. Henderson and Ms. Pfeiffer—flank an astonishing success.
The Queen
is thoroughly monarchist, and I think it revealed the conservative in Frears, but it is one of those movies that surpass life itself. Though full of irony and farce, and quite happy to mock the sentimental and stupid masses, it is a testament to enduring absurdity in Britain, and it defined Frears as a Cecil or a Peel.

Arthur Freed
(Arthur Grossman) (1894–1973), b. Charleston, South Carolina
There is not a producer who can be so identified with a single genre and studio as Arthur Freed. Yet it remains very difficult to say how far his influence over the MGM musical was creative, conceptual, coincidental, or that of a Renoirlike organizer—Danglars in
French Can Can
—blending and cajoling a company of brilliant talents.

A few essential pointers can be mentioned: Freed is a lyricist, not in the class of Cole Porter or Johnny Mercer, perhaps, but good enough to make us remember that when Gene Kelly does the title number in
Singin’ in the Rain
(52, Gene Kelly and Stanley Donen) he is singing Freed’s words, which, in rhythm and mood, are integral to the sequence; second, the MGM musical shifts gear with his arrival at the studio, principally in the way that he drafted in a number of Broadway-trained artists; and, perhaps most important, the Freed musical addresses itself more directly and wittily to the elements of fantasy, dream, and Chinese-box convolution in the backstage musical:
The Wizard of Oz, Meet Me in St. Louis, The Pirate, An American in Paris
, and
Singin’ in the Rain
are full of piquant moments when the artifice of the musical form is penetrated to reveal a quality of human truth scarcely touched on in the 1930s musical.

The Wizard of Oz
and
Meet Me in St. Louis
deserve an honorable place in the roll of movies about child psychology;
St. Louis
is a chamber musical, with an enchanting nostalgia;
The Pirate
is an emotionally dry and visually garish portrait of forced feelings and ham acting;
An American in Paris
is one of the cinema’s most complete ventures into dream; while
Singin’ in the Rain
is not just a witty history of the arrival of sound but a parody of the musical. Remember that moment when Kelly’s buildup dissolves into the “Broadway Ballet” sequence—a good ten-minute exercise—only for the producer, Millard Mitchell, to say “I can’t quite visualize it.”

In other words, the tone in Freed musicals is self-aware and amused, and the form is not a celebration of homeliness, energy, or innuendo—the 1930s themes—but of sophistication.
Silk Stockings
, that late Freed masterpiece, honestly prefers the culture of America and Paris to that of Russia, and supports the seduction of commissar Charisse by Astaire’s dancing. The “All of You” sequence in that film, where Astaire coaxes Charisse into dance—as an end in itself—might be the emblem of Freed’s achievement: a self-sufficient beauty based on excellence and splendid frivolousness.

In the 1920s, Freed was a performer in vaudeville. But once sound arrived, he went into films as a lyricist for MGM, often with Nacio Herb Brown. Many of their songs—“You Were Meant for Me,” “Hold Your Man,” and “You Are My Lucky Star”—were used several times in different Metro films:
The Broadway Melody
(29, Harry Beaumont);
Hollywood Revue
(29, Charles Reisner);
Blondie of the Follies
(32, Edmund Goulding);
Dancing Lady
(33, Robert Z. Leonard);
Broadway Melody of 1936
(35, Roy del Ruth);
Broadway Melody of 1938
(37, del Ruth); and
Thoroughbreds Don’t Cry
(37, Alfred E. Green).

In 1939, MGM made him a producer and he became effectively for the next twenty years in charge of their musicals. As well as the most obvious talent he gathered at the studio—Busby Berkeley, Minnelli, Donen, Charles Walters—he encouraged such people as choreographer Michael Kidd, writers Adolph Comden and Betty Green, orchestrator André Previn, and art directors like Randall Duell, Cedric Gibbons, and Preston Ames. From the very beginning, with
The Wizard of Oz
project and his determination that Judy Garland should play in it, Freed revealed himself as a sure judge of talent. He lasted as long as the musical, its godfather, even if he failed to prolong its life beyond the 1950s:
Babes in Arms
(39, Busby Berkeley, taken away from Warners as one of Freed’s first actions);
The Wizard of Oz
(39, Victor Fleming; coproduced with Mervyn Le Roy);
Strike Up the Band
(40, Berkeley);
Little Nellie Kelley
(40, Norman Taurog);
Babes on Broadway
(41, Berkeley);
Lady Be Good
(41, Norman Z. McLeod);
Cabin in the Sky
(42, Vincente Minnelli);
For Me and My Gal
(42, Berkeley);
Du Barry Was a Lady
(43, del Ruth);
Girl Crazy
(43, Taurog);
Best Foot Forward
(43, Edward Buzzell);
Meet Me in St. Louis
(44, Minnelli);
Yolanda and the Thief
(45, Minnelli);
The Harvey Girls
(45, George Sidney);
Ziegfeld Follies
(46, Minnelli);
Till the Clouds Roll By
(46, Richard Whorf);
Summer Holiday
(47, Rouben Mamoulian);
The Pirate
(47, Minnelli);
Easter Parade
(48, Charles Walters);
Words and Music
(48, Taurog);
Take Me Out to the Ball Game
(49, Berkeley);
On the Town
(49, Donen and Kelly);
The Barkleys of Broadway
(49, Walters);
Annie Get Your Gun
(50, Sidney), and uniquely vulgar in Freed’s output;
An American in Paris
(51, Minnelli);
Show Boat
(51, Sidney);
Royal Wedding
(51, Donen);
The Belle of New York
(52, Walters);
Lovely to Look At
(52, Le Roy);
Singin’ in the Rain
(52, Donen and Kelly);
The Band Wagon
(53, Minnelli);
It’s Always Fair Weather
(55, Donen);
Silk Stockings
(57, Mamoulian);
Gigi
(58, Minnelli); and
Bells Are Ringing
(60, Minnelli).

It seems like a fine record, but as the musical withered, Freed tried to branch out into drama, with dismal results:
The Subterraneans
(60, Ranald MacDougall) and
Light in the Piazza
(62, Guy Green).

Morgan Freeman
, b. Memphis, Tennessee, 1937
When Morgan Freeman was cast and did such fine work in
Unforgiven
(92, Clint Eastwood), the choice seemed to be a way of saying, here is one of our great supporting actors, a man of honor and unflinching competence, an actor to set beside the most reliable, stalwart friends in the great Westerns, an actor worthy of the company of Ward Bond, Walter Brennan, Arthur Kennedy. At the same time, Eastwood’s resolute decision to ignore Freeman’s blackness set up one more deep implausibility in
Unforgiven
. Would blackness have gone unremarked in that time and place? Somehow Woody Strode in the Ford films seemed a more honest casting decision.

Still, in several films Freeman has absolutely transcended color: as the pimp in
Street Smart
(87, Jerry Schatzberg), where he was nominated for a supporting actor Oscar;
Clean and Sober
(88, Glenn Gordon Caron); and
Johnny Handsome
(90, Walter Hill).

In other words, Freeman could play Iago as easily as Othello. But can he expect that offer? And, at sixty plus, how much of his effort must go, quite simply, into keeping in work?

He had acted a good deal in television and the theatre before he became a familiar movie presence:
Who Says I Can’t Ride a Rainbow?
(71, Edward Mann);
Brubaker
(80, Stuart Rosenberg);
Eyewitness
(81, Peter Yates);
Harry & Son
(84, Paul Newman);
Teachers
(84, Arthur Hiller);
Marie
(85, Roger Donaldson);
That Was Then, This Is Now
(85, Christopher Cain); as the chauffeur in
Driving Miss Daisy
(89, Bruce Beresford), nominated for best actor; excellent and nineteenth-century in
Glory
(89, Edward Zwick);
Lean on Me
(89, John G. Avildsen); an all-round concession as the judge in
Bonfire of the Vanities
(90, Brian De Palma);
Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves
(91, Kevin Reynolds); and
The Power of One
(92, Avildsen).

In 1993, Freeman directed
Bopha!
, set in South Africa in 1980, with Danny Glover and Alfre Woodard as parents whose son is an antiapartheid activist—and Glover is a cop.

Freeman then took on a series of films that established him not just as a great American actor, but as a rare authority figure above reproach or irony:
The Shawshank Redemption
(94, Frank Darabont);
Outbreak
(95, Wolfgang Petersen); as William Somerset, the world-weary detective in
Se7en
(95, David Fincher);
Moll Flanders
(96, Pen Densham);
Chain Reaction
(96, Andrew Davis);
Kiss the Girls
(97, Gary Fleder);
Amistad
(97, Steven Spielberg);
Hard Rain
(98, Mikael Salomon);
Deep Impact
(98, Mimi Leder). He produced and played a small role in
Mutiny
(99, Kevin Hooks), a TV dramatization of the Port Chicago mutiny. He also helped produce
Under Suspicion
(00, Stephen Hopkins);
Along Came a Spider
(01, Lee Tamahori) and
The Sum of All Fears
(02, Phil Alden Robinson). Other films are
Nurse Betty
(00, Neil LaBute) and
High Crimes
(02, Carl Franklin).

He produced and acted in
Levity
(01, Ed Solomon); and acted in
Dreamcatcher
(02, Lawrence Kasdan); as God (about time) in
Bruce Almighty
(03, Tom Shadyac);
The Big Bounce
(04, George Armitage);
An Unfinished Life
(04, Lasse Hallström).

He finally won the supporting actor Oscar for
Million Dollar Baby
(04, Eastwood), and that had the effect of boosting his status so that nearly every project seemed to want him:
Batman Begins
(05, Christopher Nolan);
Unleashed
(05, Louis Leterrier);
Edison Force
(06, David J. Burke);
The Contract
(06, Bruce Beresford). Around this time, he could also be heard narrating films as varied as
March of the Penguins
and
War of the Worlds
. As an actor, he was back in
Lucky Number Slevin
(06, Paul McGuigan);
Evan Almighty
(07, Shadyac);
Feast of Love
(07, Robert Benton);
Gone Baby Gone
(07, Ben Affleck); with Jack Nicholson in
The Bucket List
(07, Rob Reiner);
Wanted
(08, Timur Bekmambetov);
The Dark Knight
(08, Nolan);
Thick as Thieves
(09, Leder);
The Maiden Heist
(09, Peter Hewitt); and as Nelson Mandela in
Invictus
(09, Eastwood).