P F A N D O M
Michelle Pfeiffer Retrospective. Episode 9
by Nathaniel R
Michelle Pfeiffer was not an overnight success, nor was Elvira Hancock in Scarface (1983), a true star-making role. That's hard to fathom now that the movie is so embedded in pop culture but the early fame attached to the movie was Pacino Ham and de Palma Excess specific. Pfeiffer's Movie Star Ascendance was four or five years away but with Scarface, The Actress inside her arrived...
So the natural place to focus is Elvira Hancock's own entrance. We first spot that gangster's moll when Tony (Al Pacino) does, turned away from us in a backless gown in the home of local crime boss Frank (Robert Loggia). She descends into the scene by elevator, like a trophy encased in glass. Her body language is all impatience though not in the practical sense or she might have glided down the stairs with more speed. The sleek teal gown is cut down to there in front, saving all its fabric for Pfeiffer's lower half. It flows with her every shift in movement, dancing around her legs as if it's already at the club Elvira's so eager to get to...
Tellingly, Elvira's temperament doesn't change when the group have reached the dance club. Wherever Elvira goes, she no longer wants to be. To stave off Elvira's perpetual boredom, she hits the dance floor, not even waiting for Tony to join her despite inviting him. The soulless synth-track accompanying her moves emphatically shouts "She's on fire!" but it's less than convincing. Elvira Hancock is ice cold.
Tony and Elvira's first dance doesn't go well. Elvira has zero interest in making nice and when Tony tries too hard to have a conversation with her she lashes out, belittling him with racist digs and class warfare bombs. Pfeiffer half conceals a smile when Elvira realizes her cutting remarks have drawn blood. As ugly as that thrill may be, it's the first sign Elvira is actually alive. She's not on fire but she's glad to have raised her partner's temperature. But this joy, if we can call it that, evaporates as instantly as her desire to be anywhere does. Tony lashes out himself and casually drops a 'baby' into his own insults. Her eyes flash bloodshot hostility.
Don't call me 'baby'. I'm not your baby."
This one-two punch of scenes places Elvira on the top of Tony's greed list. She's one more status symbol he must have. Elvira eventually begins to accept Tony's proposals but not with anything like true warmth. In one of many brilliant costuming moves the late great costume designer Patricia Norris conceals Pfeiffer's eyes with giant sunglasses in some of these key scenes, placing Elvira's inner life at even more of a remove from us. But there are numerous clues to the woman's bottomless misery in Pfeiffer's body language, either perpetually fidgety awaiting her next fix (be it the dance club or actual drugs) or frozen with indecision as in a scene where Tony asks for her hand in marriage. When Elvira settles in as Tony's trophy instead of Frank's it's with pliable indifference, even resignation, rather than feeling; she's just trading one shelf for another.
She is also, and this is no minor point, an addict. Eventually with addictions, life becomes unmanageable. Elvira's initial zombie listlessness curdles into something more recognizably despairing in later scenes as Elvira stares in mirrors bleakly or has noisy self-loathing breakdowns in public places with Tony. Despite the movie's infamous excess, Pfeiffer's interpretation is controlled and only as impassioned as Elvira's frigidity will allow.
Scarface, the most enduring film from Pfeiffer's early years, fully belongs to fans now. But Elvira, apart from her coveted fashions, still resists capture. She's not your baby. She's Pfeiffer's. And hers alone. Like many of the greatest stars, Pfeiffer's surface is dazzling. But with Elvira Hancock she finally burrowed deep under it arriving at the soul of her character. That's the place only great actors ever find.
Previously: Grease 2 (1982)
Next: Into the Night (1985)