They Had Great Character

[moira finnie]

After seeing several actors pass away recently, contemporary character actor Stephen Tobolowsky (Spaceballs, Groundhog Day, Glee) wrote this op-ed for The New York Times, September 16, 2010.

They Had Great Character
By STEPHEN TOBOLOWSKY

Los Angeles

ONE evening not long ago, my wife and I were standing in the lobby of a theater when a group of women approached me with “that look.” It’s a look that I have come to know as the “You are either someone in show business or my former chiropractor” look.

The women smiled bashfully and the brave one asked, “Are you who we think you are?” I responded, fearful of litigation, “That all depends on who you think I am.”

She giggled and said, “The actor.” I bowed and replied, “Yes, ma’am.” She brightened: “The one on ‘Lost.’”

I said, “No, no, sorry.”

Undeterred, she followed up with, “No, I meant the movie by the Coen brothers, ‘A Serious Man.’ ”

I was not in that movie either, though I auditioned for it and offered to wash Joel and Ethan’s cars if they would cast me. I suggested to the women that they had seen me in “Groundhog Day” or “Glee,” neither of which they had heard of. At this point I was certain that I had to be talking to visitors from another world or time travelers.

This is an encounter that I have had quite often. I am a character actor: the perfect combination of ubiquity and anonymity. But this particular comedy of errors made me give some serious thought to the strange, occasionally delightful and often humbling path we character actors tread. My thoughts were tinged with the sadness of having recently lost five magnificent companions on that road — Kevin McCarthy, Carl Gordon, Maury Chaykin, James Gammon and Harold Gould.

What makes the character actor different from our brethren who handle the leading roles? My fellow actor and writer Larry Miller described it perfectly: “The definition of a character actor is anyone in the movie not kissing Renée Zellweger.”

I tend to think of it a little more scientifically. There is one thing that Kevin, Carl, Maury, James, Harold, Larry and I have in common: we have all played parts that didn’t have names.

When you are Harrison Ford you play Richard Kimble or Han Solo. You have a first and last name, and the writer has thought enough about you to give you a life. Harrison Ford’s characters eat, sleep, drink coffee, shave, shower (from the back only, waist up), read the newspaper, get dressed, drive to work, run for their lives, shoot guns, deliver stirring oratory to alien warlords and possibly kiss Renée Zellweger — all because they have been named.

Compare that with James Gammon, who assayed the roles of “Texan,” “Paps” and “Double D.” Or Carl Gordon, whose characters were sometimes identified only by a job description like “Foreman” or “Luther the Pimp,” or simply age and location like “Older Man on Train.” Harold Gould was stuck with his location on the family tree when he played “Grandpa” in “Freaky Friday.”

I personally have felt the bite of having no name. In my time, I have played “Ranger Bob,” “Ringmaster Bob,” “Dr. Bob,” “Father Jon” and “Father Joe.” For the TV movie “Last Flight Out,” my name was “Tim” in the first half of the script and “Jim” in the last half. One of our stars was Richard Crenna, the funniest man who ever lived; he would always call me “Tim Jim” with a straight face during our scenes and in serious discussions with the director. No one noticed.

The career of Kevin McCarthy, who was somewhat of an icon for his performance in “Invasion of the Body Snatchers,” proves this rule. When he was younger, he was a leading man; he had his hair and his good looks and almost always played parts that had first and last names. He became a character actor only after he outlived all the leading ladies he could have plausibly kissed. When that happened, Kevin’s characters began to lose their names, though he was so respected that they were almost always given a higher education: “Dr. Jones,” “Professor Ragnar,” “Professor Weaver,” “Bishop Ryder,” “Pastor Waltz” and “the Monk.”

Do not be deceived, however: the onscreen life of Paps or the Monk or Older Man on Train had to be just as full and vibrant as that of, say, Capt. Jack Sparrow or Don Corleone.

The only difference is that the parts with no names have been somewhat abandoned by the screenwriters, so it is the job of the character actor to bring substance to the role. That may take imagination, research or just plain prayer. But it has to be done. The character actor has to bring the complete person to the set, ready to roll with the punches.

My first day on “Groundhog Day,” Bill Murray shook hands with me and said, “Hello, nice to meet you — now show me what you’re going to do.” I jumped into a few enormously energetic moments of Ned Ryerson and Bill held up his hand. “Fine, fine, you can do that,” he said. “It’s funny.” Bill walked away.

I then asked the director, Harold Ramis, if I should play Ned a little more down to earth. Harold laughed and said: “No. Bill is the lead. He’s the stew. When you are a supporting character, you are the spice in the stew. Have fun.”

Maury Chaykin was the epitome of the spice in the stew. One night in Montana, when Maury and I were shooting the family comedy “Josh and S.A.M.,” we were chatting as we waited for the cameras to get ready. Maury was playing “Pizza Man” with his usual deranged flair. I asked him how he was enjoying the movie. He shrugged and said: “It’s a part. Every part is an opportunity.” I asked, “An opportunity for what?”

Maury grinned like the Cheshire Cat: “I guess we’ll find out tonight.”

Like Maury and the rest, the very best character actors are made of equal parts discipline and madness, and the fact that our faces are more familiar than our names is not our curse, but our blessing. The character actor’s goal, after all, is not to earn the adulation of the public; it is to give lives to a hundred nameless spirits who make us laugh or cry, who are both familiar and new, who show us that their journey is our journey, and who, like everyone in the audience, never get to kiss Renée Zellweger.

Stephen Tobolowsky, an actor, is the creator of the Tobolowsky Files, a podcast.
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The actor's podcast is free on itunes and can be accessed here. If you are interested in reading an interview with the actor, you can see one here.

[JackFavell]

Oh my god! He made me laugh AND cry!

[ChiO]

Stephen Tobolowsky said:
My fellow actor and writer Larry Miller described it perfectly: “The definition of a character actor is anyone in the movie not kissing Renée Zellweger.”

Or, as I heard John Turturro say: Character actor? Every actor I know plays a character.

But character actors, second bananas, bit players, whatever are the spice aren't they (Exhibit A: Robert Dudley in THE PALM BEACH STORY. Was "King" his last name? Your Honor, I rest my case.).

And only a Character Actor would use "Tobolowsky" as a last name.

[moira finnie]

Did you know that there was a What a Character Actor Blogathon in the last few days on the internet? Check out the various entries here if you'd like to know more.

[pvitari]

Paula's Cinema Club? :)

-- A different Paula :)

[JackFavell]

Oh my gosh, thanks Moira! I had no idea about the blogathon. This is for me! Many thanks,

[norfious]

Wonderful! Thanks for the links to the blogathon.

This is so exciting; I've always been interested in character actors, but have found few resources.

[JackFavell]

Love your new avatar norfious!

[MissGoddess]

fantastic. just great, he made laugh out loud and now i'll have to google what he looks like so i don't sound like those little old ladies who accosted him. he's a very witty writer, i'll look up his blog.

thank you for the tip about the blog-a-thon, too.

i can't imagine the movies without these "nameless" faces. i'm still learning to put the performers names. for instance, the young blonde man i just saw in mysterious intruder (1946) who played the deaf mute errand boy. he's been in thousands of movies and i don't think imdb.com even listed him for this film yet it was a terrific turn, without a word spoken, which added so much to the movie. he has such a striking appearance, almost albino looking, you can't miss him anytime he shows up.

[JackFavell]

Is it this guy? I always call him Whitey, because he played Whitey in the Bowery Boys movies but his real name was Billy Benedict.

[MissGoddess]

Is it this guy? I always call him Whitey, because he played Whitey in the Bowery Boys movies but his real name was Billy Benedict.

YES, thank you!! Billy Benedict. Learned something today!

[moira finnie]

There's a good article by Suzi Doll on the Movie Morlocks about several beloved and obscure character actors:

http://moviemorlocks.com/2012/10/08/the ... more-56041