Oscar has something of a weakspot for entertainers "crossing over" as legitimate or serious actors, giving nomination nods to what appear in glow of the moment to be auspicious "second debut" performances. Yet, while Academy history has shown many such nominees to be flashes in the proverbial pan, few have delivered on such hyped promise and fewer still have proven themselves so handily as...
...Cher in Silkwood (1983)approximately 28 minutes and 32 seconds39 scenesroughly 22% of film's total running timeCher plays Dolly Pelliker -- housemate, co-worker and close friend of Karen Silkwood (a solid and surprising Meryl Streep), the labor activist whose mysterious death provides the narrative impetus for this strange and fascinating film.
For early 1980s audiences who mostly knew the performer for her glamorous and glittery popmusic/television/media persona, Cher's presence in this film -- as the homely sidekick, no less -- appears as something of a startling incongruity.
It's worth remembering that Cher's performance in
Silkwood marks only her second serious film role (her first came a year earlier in Robert Altman's little-seen adaptation of her stage success
Come Back to the Five and Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean) as well as her first appearance in a major dramatic picture.
The role of Dolly Pelliker is not an especially complicated one. The role follows, in some ways, the conventional "best friend" template and serves, mostly, to provide a clarifying counterpoint to the character of Karen. Karen's a striver, while Dolly's content just getting along. Karen's friends with everyone, while Dolly's only close to Karen and Karen's boyfriend Drew (the hunkarific Kurt Russell). Karen enjoys being a rebel, while Dolly's only an outsider because she has to be.
Yet the role of Dolly is also surprisingly difficult, requiring the performer to vivify a guarded character who's on the sullen and/or depressive side.
And Cher's good in the role. Very good, even, at certain moments. (Though her strongest turns arrive in Dolly's more playfully acerbic moments, as opposed to the accumulation of glum moments which make up most of the character's screen time.)
I recall Cher's performance in and nomination for
Silkwood being somewhat dismissed by contemporary media commentators as a gimmick in which one of the era'a most glamorous icons was "slumming" or "playing pretend" as a grubby lesbian in a political film. I even recall Meryl Streep coming to the defense of Cher's actorly honor in more than one interview. Yet, viewing this film with the benefit of hindsight, I can see how easily it might have been to mistake Cher's performance as a stunt and to see the evidence of her actorly inexperience as lack of talent/skill.
For, truth be told, Cher's performance as Dolly is a bit muddy.
Indeed, Cher's characterization of Dolly is not especially precise. (I'm never quite sure whether Dolly's somewhat taciturn and brusque by nature, or depressive and surly because her life's hit a bad patch.) And major character moments remain somewhat oblique. (Director Nichols's use of longshot during most of Dolly's major moments might be the source of this, and its a curious choice given the director's propensity for tight shots elsewhere in the film.)
Often, Cher's Dolly is more of a presence than a person in the film, which makes it difficult for me to get really enthusiastic about the performance. This fact is made all the more conspicuous by my complete geekery over the exceptional work by veteran side-player Sudie Bond, in the bizarre but heart-rending role of Thelma (Dolly & Karen's shrill, bewigged co-worker who's "Silkwood shower" scene remains -- for me -- one of the most harrowing scenes in this or any film). Sudie Bond's performance is truly great actressing at the edges and thrills me in ways that disrupt my enthusiasm for Cher's tentative (and less vivid) work closer to the center of this film.
That said, Cher's accomplishment in the role definitely slashes and burns Cher's previous celebrity image to announce her arrival as a legitimate, serious actress, a status that would be confirmed time and again in the coming decade. And while it might sound like I don't think Cher's nomination for this performance is an entirely worthy one, that's not exactly true. One moment, in particular, sells me on Cher's performance as Dolly.
The moment arrives late in the film, shortly after nuclear contamination has been discovered in the home shared by Streep's Karen and Cher's Dolly. The subsequent investigation soon reveals that Karen's the only one who's "cooked" and the anomalous aspects of the case impel Karen, Drew and Dolly to travel to Los Alamos for further assessment. As the scene begins, Cher's Dolly is nearly giddy with contentment, traveling once again with her chosen family and joking about being in the newspaper alongside her friend Karen. When Streep's Karen, however, presses Cher's Dolly about whether Dolly might have clued investigators to the fact that Karen possessed some potentially incriminating documents, Dolly's affect shifts abruptly.
In a flash, Dolly's smile crumbles. Her body contracts, her eyelids become heavy, and her previously childlike exuberance is replaced by a grim, terrified guilt. In this moment, more than perhaps any other in the film, Cher conveys Dolly's guilelessness as well as her desperate fear of losing her friends (who are as family to her). It's a mysterious yet palpable moment of potential deception -- a defining moment for the character -- and Cher conveys Dolly's complexity with palpable immediacy.
In moments such as these, Cher's work in the role of Dolly -- while not always extraordinary in and of itself -- remains fascinating, in part, because of just how clearly it augurs the quickening of Cher's gifts as a formidable actress.
In the wallflower role of Dolly, Cher deploys her formidable charisma and presence in service of the character's defining vulnerability. And while her characterization is nowhere near as precisely expert as those crafted by the journeymen actors working all around her her, Cher's performance in
Silkwood nonetheless signals her arrival as a film actor of exceptional, compelling promise.
And the Smackdowners for the 56th Annual Academy Awards are...
click image to be routed to video
And the Smackdowners for the 56th Annual Academy Awards are...At first glance you're impressed because she plays subdued well, but you look again and it doesn't really add up. A noble effort, but she playing it ends up being a character and not a person.
The part's sketchy, and the film doesn't always know what to do with her, but Cher gives her role some appealingly playful rowdiness in her early scenes and shows a relaxed interplay with Streep and Russell. Pretty good work.
Cher’s deglammed portrayal of the grubby Dolly dismantles the performer’s glittering celebrity persona and proclaims the arrival of a serious acting talent. A simple, sensitive and significant performance.
The only thing we really know about Dolly Pelliker is that she is in love with Karen Silkwood, but Cher manages to still make Dolly enigmatic and intriguing. Whose side is she on? That Cher doesn’t make this clear complicates this picture considerably.
Without ever being the centre of attention, Cher crafts a character through many minor notes and beats and navigates a late-game and slow burning twist with remarkable nuance.
Cher proved herself as a talented actress in this raw and heartbreaking performance. Dolly is depressed and lonely for love, and Cher fully delievers the goods.
“I don’t mean I love you, too.” Subtle and wonderful. Holy crap do I love Cher.
Not to be a cliché, but she's wonderful. Enigmatic enough that even the camera holds her at a distance, but Cher makes Dolly familiar and her struggles -- while firmly on the margins of the story -- feel real.
Underplayed but striking. It’s as if she was not acting at all because her performance came out so naturally. She does not have those obvious Oscar-grabbing moments, but her whole performance gives the full experience.
s
s
To her credit, she's absolutely the brightest thing about a movie I (somewhat unexpectedly) viscerally disliked. She makes sure her character has more going on internally than the clichés the script handed out. Still, there's only so far she can go.
I think she got nominated because she got the emotional parts, crying during dinner and all that mush. But other than playing her part well I just do not get this nomination. She was good and all but I think that she did not shine, nor stood out, much more, give an Oscar calibre performance.
Glenn Close contributes a needed calm, centered persona, providing a fairly effective contrast to the rest of The Big Chill's rambunctious bunch. She's watchable, but her mature, serene presence is also the least interesting of the movie's marvelous ensemble.
Glenn as Sarah is pretty good...she really adds a lot to the movie. Her big scene with Mary Kay Place was excellent, I thought. So, good performance.
Close plays her role in this adeptly, but without any of her now-characteristic edge or intensity. The nature of the role doesn’t help her, sketchily written and within narrow boundaries, but this is like getting Rembrandt to colour-by-numbers.
The talk on the porch. So full of wisdom gained, dreams deferred, lingering regret, that overall air of “where did it go”. Beautifully done, and the sobbing in the shower scene serves as just icing on the cake.
She doesn't overplay the role and go for loudness. It's almost as if we can feel what she's thinking. From the first shot I was hooked and haven't looked back since.
Still waters run very, very deep in Glenn Close’s Sarah. With meticulous generosity, Close crafts a haunting portrait of unarticulated grief. And that Close makes the idiotic “here, make a baby with my husband!” bit feel almost real? Now there’s some exceptional actressing.
This role could have been boring and suffering, but instead it is nuanced and beautiful. Close allows us to understand Sarah, emerging slowly from her immediate grief into a more powerful sadness and calm. A great performance.
s
s
Hunt's accomplishment in the role of Billy Kwan – both in terms of craftsmanship and emotional intensity – is utterly unique and, often, simply marvelous. I adore the fact of Linda Hunt, yet Weir’s cynical construction of the role sours me on the performance.
I assume the gender switch is supposed to add to Billy’s mysteriousness. Instead it reads as gimmicky and works to distance us from his journey. Hunt’s physical work is often excellent, but the whole is rather disconnected.
This performance left me feeling a little cold. She's not a bad man, but that doesn't mean it's a great performance. It's not a bad performance, but I was just I didn't care for it.
The reasons she won are certainly cynical (not just the novelty of the performance but also the nature of the role), but Hunt really does deliver a spirited performance. In a weak field, she probably deserves to place.
Absolutely incredible. Though Gibson and Weaver are fine, the film only truly comes alive when Hunt is on screen. That last sequence leading up to the hotel – breathtaking.
She was the heart and conscience of this movie and she stole every scene she was in. She totally deserves the nomination, and the win, is something you would have to wait for if I think she deserves it.
Hunt plays all the sides and facets of Billy Kwan with equal amounts of depth and clarity, but her key success is never mistaking a moral compass for beatification. Brilliance distilled.
No matter what sex, whoever played this character, man or woman, would have won the Oscar. Billy Kwan is happy, mysterious, and longing for some companionship....not to mention the fact, Hunt totally slips into her character and had me convinced to this day.
A gender-bending feat that never feels false or gimmicky; Hunt convinces us with her magically engrossing voice and authority. Our ambassador to Weir's shadow-puppet world, her Billy Kwan is both puppet and master – one who manipulates events, yet is tragically controlled by his idealism.
s
s
Umm ... oy? I'm not sure how else to sum up this performance. Even if the stilted awkwardness is intentional (I'm sure it is), it's so one-dimensional that it's hard to give her credit. Might have deserved that Razzie nod, though.
Small wonder that this is the only Academy Award nominee to also be nominated for a Razzie. What is this role? Lifeless, dead-eyed, dull – not that there’s much to work with. Disappointing.
Irving’s performance was nearly wallpaper for the movie, or an accessory, or a part of the set. Yes, she was there but I hardly felt her presence, and it baffles me that she got an Oscar nomination for this (though she deserved that Razzie nomination).
The highest compliment I could find was that she's good looking. Positively steamrolled by Babs in any which way and she doesn't even look like she's trying!
Amy Irving has an incredible ability to play the different angles of fragility and serenity, but this role relies on further stretching than this and the actress often mistakes silence for subtlety.
What can I possibly say? Irving does what she's supposed to do with this performance, but her, and the movie, are just simply not good. Irving's best scenes are with Streisand, but it simply isn't good enough.
In a mostly silent performance, Irving demonstrates her emotional shifts through her physicality. Still, Hadass is never that interesting of a character, and early on when Avigdor asked “what could she be thinking?” I felt sure the answer was “nothing.”
In a solid (and unfairly maligned) performance, Irving embodies the idealized, deferential Hadass with ethereal warmth and formidable feeling; the actress aptly conveys the character’s shifting (and largely concealed) conflicts as she is transformed by her encounter with Streisand’s Anshel.
Beautiful, sensuous, and languorous, Amy Irving embodies Singer's storybook maiden to perfection. At turns touchingly innocent and amusingly, lustily sly, she displays pitch-perfect rapport with her fellow actors and inhabits Streisand's burnished-golden universe with delicacy.
s
s
Tries to inject energy into this survival-amid-the-marshlands tale. Unfortunately, nobody voted her scene partner (an abysmal Mary Steenburgen) off the swamp. And without a better-developed script and less narcoleptic direction, Woodard can't redeem this boggy biopic.
The clichéd nature of the role was kind of exhausting, but Woodard brought to it her characteristic warmth and a youthful exuberance that didn't always read "simple." Kind of sucks this remains her only nomination.
Even if the screenplay doesn’t, Woodard manages to subtly, simply convey the friendship and affection between Geechee and Marjorie. I wish the movie did more than keeping her in the background, though even there she is interesting to watch.
Woodard made the most out of the material given to her and it really paid off. She was the hidden gem of this movie – touching and memorable – to but I kinda wish that she was given more.
This actress imbues a stereotype with her own characteristic intelligence and uncommon brand of charm. She stops short of running away with the movie outright, but this is certainly a worthwhile performance, and nomination.
Woodard is energetic and lovable in the role, but, though the actress fleshes her out considerably, director Ritt isn’t really interested in Geechee (not even enough for a real name).
Woodard's Geechee is possibly her best performance. She knows why the character does what she does, like a real actress should. Geechee is comic relief, but we still feel her pain and struggle. Great performance.
Woodard invests nuance, texture and humanity in what was scripted to be a one-note role. Yet through the combined force of her charisma, empathy and intelligence, Woodard's performance permits us to feel that single note with uncommon depth and resonance.
She takes a clichéd role and makes it great. She's beautiful to watch and steals the show in what could have become such a stock character.
s
s
But, in something of a nailbiter,
