Beauty Break: Ewan in Blue
GQ is selling blue as the color of the moment. I tend to wear purples and greens -- not "The Joker" saturation levels, mind -- and browns but whatever Ewan McGregor sells I'm eager to buy so perhaps if I ever go shopping again, it'll be blue blue blue.
Just looking at Ewan McGregor raises my melatonin levels. In 2005 I placed him on a ten favorites of the decade list as my least analytical choice. I just respond to him is all. I wrote...
He rises up jubilantly. I don't care if this sounds cheesy or sentimental but Ewan makes me feel and smile.
Some actors we relate to as identity surrogates. We want to be them or see the story through their eyes. In the case of McGregor I find I'm always the other characters. I'm always with him. In the 90s when he first came to fame I was rooming with him in a conspiratorial way, painting words on his body, rocking out like a lustful fanboy at his concerts, or killing time and brain cells with him in illegal ways (just like his co-stars in Shallow Grave, Pillowbook, Velvet Goldmine, and Trainspotting) On this last: he's the only actor for whom I would dive into a toilet bowl.
I'm only sharing this to set up the quintessential film in my personal history with Ewan McGregor: Moulin Rouge! The apotheosis for me is probably the "Elephant Love Medley" scene. Like Nicole Kidman's 'Satine' I usually start out trying to resist him (my critical/cynical self usually in control). As he keeps battering away at my defenses with his unique spark, humor, and openheartedness (both as character and actor), I eventually start to cave. I resist, I complain, I explain all the reasons why not. But before long I am totally his.
It still applies. More New Blue Ewan after the jump.