Andrew here to join the Wheeler clan in wishing Leonardo DiCaprio a happy birthday…
…although, he doesn’t seem especially delighted at the well-wishes.
Is that image from Revolutionary Road a dismal birthday scene or what, though? Sometimes I imagine if I had a bloggers' party to celebrate Leo's actorly talents the soiree would be just as dismally attended. Am I wrong?
As odd as it may sound, I often find myself feeling sorry for Leonardo DiCaprio. Sure he's got good-looks, money and the perceived love of millions of fans, yes, but of the actors in his demographic he always seems the least likely to be considered a good actor. If I were to say that he’s my favourite actor under forty, I always expect raised eyebrows in response, and they are generally forthcoming. DiCaprio is not the most diverse actor in his demographic, but I'm often suspicious of attaching quality necessarily to variation. He has specific gifts and even more specific flaws. Many actors are at their best when they exploit their gifts but considering my favourite performance of his for today's monologue, I find I like Leo best when he exploits his flaws.
One consistent line of criticism lodged against DiCaprio since 1997 has been his inability to grow out of his teenage looks. I can't remember who the critic was, but they compared his attempts at adult performances to a child playing dress-up. And, he does look young; especially so in Revolutionary Road. That boyish visage is more pronounced in Revolutionary Road than it was two years earlier in something like The Departed and rewatching it this weekend I zeroed in on a scene and wondered – “Isn’t that boyishness ultimately the point?”
From the get-go April and Frank seem unevenly matched. She’s too savvy and cunning for Frank’s childish impulsiveness and the characters incongruence in ability gives way to the illusion of Kate and Leo being unevenly matched. But, instead of Leo working against his natural youthful inclinations to make Frank seem more mature he embraces it. And the film's climatic final argument between the two is a fine example. The first half of the scene, pre-monologue, is an exercise in Kate as April at her harshest goading Frank on to the point that DiCaprio's Frank just seems more and more facile.
Even when Kate rails she is composed and specific in her movements, Leonardo is less controlled and messier but it's to good effect. When he tries to cajole her into agreeing with him there's no inclination to believe. Frank just seems ill-judged and April's incredulity only makes him seem seem ridiculous.
All the boyishness we typically consider when we think of Leo is telegraphed into our own projects of Frank to good effect. But, this time, it isn't being used to appeal to us as it was excellently when he played another Frank in Catch Me If You Can. It's more ungainly. His subsequent breakdown via monologue doesn't retain the usual aspects that you represent with him. He is charmless, ineloquent and almost grossly unappealing. April's malicious taunting highlights this: "What're you going to do now? Are you going to hit me? To show me how much you love me?"
Don't worry, I can't be bothered! You're not worth the trouble it would take to hit you. You're not worth the powder it would take to blow you up. You're an empty, empty, hollow shell of a woman!
It's such a wonderful dichotomy between actual text and performance, though. The dialogue reads much more intimidating than it sounds coming from Leo. Even as this is unlike regular Leo it's still Leo using his typical attributes to good effect. He does seem more child than man, because there's nothing of the domineering bravura that you'd expect this delivery to be laced with. Instead Frank's anger is puerile. A misjudgement between intent and effect, or deliberate? I say the latter, especially as the monologue continues.
What the hell are you doing in my house if you hate me so much? Why the hell are you married to me? What the hell are you doing carrying my child?
It's the single best line-delivery in the film both vocally, and visually, for in that moment DiCaprio nails the idea of Frank. Sad, snivelling, pathetic and alone. It's A+ projection of character here. Imagine Frank and April, the warring couple with a cold wife and cheating husband from the '60s, as something from out of Mad Men. Leo doesn't play for the suavity of Don Draper, but for the uncertain confusion of Pete Campbell.
And in that juvenile way Frank's outbursts are more dangerous and hurtful than if he had decided to approach April with the countenance of an alpha-male.
I mean, why didn't you just get rid of it when you had the chance? Because listen to me. Listen to me, I got news for you. I wish to God that you had.
I maintain that this is Leo at his best because it’s such a fine example of an actor using their foibles for a better performance. All of his typically worse traits are at work here. His youthful appearance even in the most mature of roles, that weird thing his face does when he cries, the shrill voice when he shouts, hand-acting and it works in a way that’s almost perverse just because of how sad Frank is. There’s little about Frank Wheeler that’s charming or pleasant and it’s almost as if our own appreciation for Leo has soured into something perverse. It's why I've always loved Revolutionary Road, it's so wholly unromantic in intent and form to the point of being painful to watch.
I like Leo, so there are many performances of his that I like and even love but whenever I'm called to justify my appreciation for him as one of the best of his era I use Frank.
Happy birthday, Leo.
Do you agree that Frank Wheeler is the best example of his talents? What's your favourite performance of his?