A couple of weeks ago I was in Safeway and I spotted a cheap DVD, a double-bill of The Fugitive (1993) and U.S. Marshals (1998), and I impulsively bought it. I already owned The Fugitive on laserdisc (that old thing) and had seen it many times, but I hadn't ever seen U.S. Marshals. I know it's supposed to be awful, but the cast of Tommy Lee Jones, Robert Downey Jr. and Wesley Snipes suddenly appealed to me. I decided to re-watch The Fugitive before I settled down to the sequel. I liked it as much as ever; it's a rare example of everything in the Hollywood machine coming together in the right way at the right time and working perfectly. But this time, something new struck me.
Last week I wrote a defense of Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (184 screens), which I determined has been judged more by its hype than by the actual content of the film. But I didn't get much of a chance to talk about the film's star, Harrison Ford, who is an integral part of the film's success. I'll be the first to admit that Ford is an exceedingly limited actor. One of his failings is his seeming lack of humor and spontaneity in certain roles, exacerbated by the fact that, in person, he comes across just as humorless (though it could be that he merely mistrusts journalists). But ironically, one of his best attributes he shares with the comic actor Jackie Chan: a reluctance to enter into the action.
It can be argued that the majority of American action stars, after the initial "reluctant acceptance" to the "call to adventure," enter into the fray with fists flying and boots kicking, and, depending on just how badass they are, a few quips and puns as well. Chan and Ford, even after entering the fight, usually look a bit bewildered and shocked, as if wondering how on earth they ever got here. When they take a blow, they feel the pain. It registers on their faces. But while Chan uses his martial arts training to avoid blows, Ford employs a kind of lurching, stumbling, blind luck. Even his attacks seem more like defenses. Playing Indiana Jones, he walks with a kind of hesitant lope, drawn forward by the promise of knowledge and treasure, but wary of the dangerous attacks that will inevitably happen along the way.
His skill really comes out in The Fugitive, where, upon a first viewing, Tommy Lee Jones steals the movie and won an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor. (The film was nominated for seven Oscars, though, perhaps not surprisingly, Ford and director Andrew Davis were not among them.) Jones -- who is at least as good as Ford -- established his "relentless pursuer" character that he has since refined in several other films. With a face made up of strong, hard lines, crisp clothes, and an aggressive, decisive delivery of his dialogue, he plunges into the chase, never once pausing or losing any valuable time. But Ford is his exact opposite. He's ruggedly handsome, perhaps a little disheveled, and speaks barely any dialogue at all. When he does speak, he's almost shy, murmuring, and sometimes tossing in his unsure, sideways grin. This dynamic really stood out for me this time. It's almost confusing seeing these two in the same movie; they're two opposite heroes, rather than hero and villain. It's as if we're getting two separate movies for the price of one.
I'm increasingly drawn to this type of effortless, natural acting in movies. It took Ford a long time to establish his persona, perhaps thrown off by the cockiness of Han Solo in the Star Wars films. But by the time Blade Runner (1982) came around, he knew what to do. He uses his technique again in Witness (1985) -- earning his only Oscar nomination to date -- and in Frantic (1988) and Air Force One (1997). Like any ambitious actor, he tried a few times to break away from his formula with unexceptional results. He made a rather uninteresting Jack Ryan (better than Ben Affleck but not as good as Alec Baldwin!), and his attempts at crazy (The Mosquito Coast) or emotional (Regarding Henry) just didn't work. But when he accepts his fate and plays his God-given persona, like a John Wayne -- or, for that matter, a Robert Downey Jr., Tommy Lee Jones or Wesley Snipes -- he excels.
Moreover, Ford can be funny, but he's not particularly good at out-and-out comedy; he needs to underplay, to sneak up on the jokes. Perhaps his most underrated film to date is Hollywood Homicide (2003), a roundly misunderstood spoof of cop films set in a kind of dilapidated, heartless, soulless Los Angeles -- a kind of aged, plastic surgery victim -- in which even the lethargic, ridiculous action scenes stood in deliberate, direct opposition to the ones presented in the movies. Ford cleverly managed to re-work his reluctant action hero into the jaded, lazily corrupt Sgt. Joe Gavilan, who continues to do his job without knowing why, exhausted from fighting off the effects of age. The film is like a bigger, noisier Sunset Boulevard, and Ford understood precisely how to respond to it. But the best joke of all is that, five years later, he's back in shape as Indiana Jones, looking great and taking his pummeling once more, all the while looking shocked and wondering how on earth he got himself into this one.
1. so what did you think of u.s. marshals? although vastly inferior to the fugitive, i still thought it was good..i could be alone on this one, but i don't think i'll ever get tired of watching tommy lee jones play that type of character!
Posted at 3:02AM on Aug 21st 2008 by Brice_J