An Ode To Sean Pean Pt. II

Spanning the 1990s through late 2000s Sean Penn has continued to work regularly as an actor, but during this era audiences were also reintroduced to him as a director and sometime screenwriter. His four films, The Indian Runner, The Crossing Guard, The Pledge and Into The Wild all further explored the personal, life conflicting stories he’s made the backbone of his career. The movie quartet, all Penn directed, is an organically creative extension of his performance work.

And it’s what Penn’s been able to do with each portrayal that has made him so arresting. Sean easily morphs into the flawed everyman, the lone outsider, the societal outcast, the flippant conscienceless badass, the perennial screw-up and the man-child from the wrong side of the tracks with easy aplomb. Each persona, gingerly cloaked in and bearing the paralyzing weight of their own sin-specific weighted bloody crown of thorns. But it’s their shared exposed nerve of vulnerability that makes you need them, love them, and empathize with them desperately each time they surface. Many of his various career characters collectively represent some of the shortcomings of the human race, but like a mirror Penn’s passionate performances regularly keep reflecting back to us that personally, we are all each a little bit of them. Compared to other leading man roles by the Toms: Cruise and Hanks (Penn’s Hollywood peers similar in clout, years in the business and popularity) Sean doesn’t care whether you ‘like’ his characters or not (and sometimes you shouldn’t) because as audiences, our attraction to them runs a little heavier, deeper and oft-times darker. We are hypnotically seduced by both their wrongs and charms and come back each time we are beckoned.

That’s what so fascinating about Penn’s performance as Harvey Milk. As the title character, Sean is the anti on-screen Penn. He’s sunshine personified with giggly eyes and a playful sense of humor. You not only love him, you like him a whole lot. The historical tale of the country’s first openly gay politician, Harvey Milk was the earnest and rare of politico. He was an equal parts combo of public servant—he rose to prominence eventually becoming an elected San Francisco Supervisor and gay rights activist—championing the mission personally and professionally to get homosexuals to live closet-free, equal lifestyles during the cause nomadic seventies.

Penn plays Milk quietly reflective, and earnestly loyal to his friends, lovers and colleagues united for his groundbreaking Mecca. His effeminate physical movements never betray homosexuals in stereotypical parody, but almost possess a dancer’s grace. And under director Gus Van Sant’s poetic tutelage, Penn all but freefalls from any heterosexual actor’s comfort zone to give the film’s gay love scenes a universal sensuality and purity. You’ve heard the legend that Denzel Washington warned Will Smith not to do any gay mouth kissing scenes in Six Degrees of Separation? Well, Sean never got that memo. His performance in Milk is the most valorous portrayal of a homosexual character by a straight actor in recent years. With each film he pushes boundaries, with each performance he outdoes his canvas of work and in the process he always reinvents himself. Milk earned Penn his second Oscar win because he was just that good. And that is why as long as Sean Penn is acting and directing, my eyes will continue to be cast upward, transfixed onto the big screen.

An Ode To Sean Pean Pt. I

It’s been unofficially announced that Sean Penn recently ended his self-imposed acting sabbatical. After originally pulling out of The Farrelly Brothers upcoming remake of the Three Stooges, Penn is now confirmed as back in the project as Larry. It was a brief break but the movies felt his absence. And personally, I'm looking forward to having my generation's original bad boy back on the big screen, and here’s why.

I first discovered Sean Penn in the 1983 film Bad Boys (over a decade before the 1995 Will Smith and Martin Lawrence action vehicle of the same name.) By this time Penn had already made his motion picture debut as the thinking man’s schoolboy cadet with a conscience in 1981’s Taps alongside Tom Cruise. And his dazzling follow-up was an ascension to instant movie icondom as surfer slacker Jeff Spicoli in the 1982 cult classic ensemble, Fast Times At Ridgemont High. But it was his powder keg performance as an incarcerated teen seeking revenge in Boys that really grabbed, shook and awakened me to what was happening in the movies at the time. Penn’s portrayal was pure, honest, raw and ragingly vulnerable. I had never seen a young actor explode that way on the screen before (or since) and while I was only 12 years old, I was old enough to know that in that movie Sean Penn completely blew my mind.

This was the dawn of a new age-the eighties; and MTV was about to pilot a televised music video revolution where style, looks and cool would prevail over substance. And in turn Hollywood spawned a new kind of young actor and brood that would later be christened the brat pack generation; the young, 20- something, cute boy toys and girls who not only looked the part, but had the acting chops necessary to carry and open a film. The list included Rob Lowe, Emilio Estevez, Tom Cruise, Andrew McCarthy, Judd Nelson, Anthony Michael Hall, Ally Sheedy, Demi Moore, and Molly Ringwald. But actually, Sean Penn wasn’t ever really a part of that pack. Because instead of starring in a lot of cute and now considered guilty pleasure nostalgic fare that his contemporaries opted for, Penn was honing his acting chops on NYC theater stages. He decided early on to carve out his own niche cinematically, choosing the path of actor over that of the more alluring and well-worn road of movie star.

Throughout his career Penn has always and continues to deliver honest, truthful performances that ritualistically blaze across the big screen. Very early on and before the term indie became a household word the Santa Monica-born actor chose films rooted in these small story cinematic traditions (Racing With The Moon, Falcon and The Snowman, At Close Range) over The Big 80 flicks with juggernaut box office receipts and unforgettable catchphrases. Penn even managed to make shakier and more fragile film projects better, by simply gracing us with his presence (Crackers, Shanghai Surprise, We’re No Angels). And by the time the 1990s and 2000s rolled in and the term indie became a catchphrase itself, Penn got to flex his acting muscles with big roles in little films that were truly original (State of Grace, She’s so Lovely, Hurlyburly, Sweet and Lowdown, 21 Grams, The Assassination of Richard Nixon). And he got a chance to disappear completely into fascinating characters that injected flesh, blood and passion into bigger Hollywood-studio type sagas (Carlito’s Way, Dead Man Walking, I Am Sam, Mystic River-for which after three Oscar nominations, Penn finally won his first Academy Award for Best Actor in 2004).

Next in Pt. II: Penn directs and later reconnects with acting and Oscar in his portrayal of Harvey Milk in Milk

Welcome to Tracking Shot

The business of Hollywood never bores me. Some try to down play it as insignificant fluff, but I believe it’s just as important as politics, packs the power of some religions, and is one of the most lucrative industries in the world. Also, how could you dump on a product that entertains, nourishes the imagination and, in these scary and uncertain times, provides an endless and joyous escape for so many millions?

It wasn’t always so mindless or fun for black folk. In the early 1900s the first images of African Americans were minstreled, lampooned and black faced in film and TV. Then, we mostly butlered and domesticated our way into the decades of the 30s and 40s. But then, like a shining black ray of promise rising from the west, Sidney Poitier emerged and single-handedly staged his own civil rights revolution in Hollywood. Poitier forced an industry to not judge him by the color of his skin, but by the content of his characters. He injected nobility and dignity into the portrait of the black man. And Poitier was living, walking, and celluloid proof that all men were created equal.

But let’s temporarily put the history lesson aside for now. Image, likeness, and depiction is everything that represents who we are. And while we can’t shake the hand of each individual person around the world, these larger than life images on the big and small screen break the fourth wall and do that for us with every sitcom in syndication, movie on cable, DVD sold or big box office release. These 30-minute to one hour to 90-minute to two-hour talkies, have become our ambassadors and calling cards. While early screen history— Birth of a Nation— showed what a detrimental tool this could be, the evolution since has been mostly dazzling. Consider just a sampling of the luminaries in the Genesis of Black Hollywood (and this is a very abridged Cliff’s notes version— several have been omitted for the sake of space) Poitier begat Denzel Washington, Redd Foxx begat Richard Pryor who begat Eddie Murphy who begat Chris Rock, Hattie McDaniel begat Moms Mabley who begat Whoopi Goldberg, Lena Horne begat Dorothy Dandridge who begat Halle Berry. Our family life depicted on the small screen quickly evolved as Good Times begat The Jeffersons which begat The Cosby Show. And only in La La land could a fairy godfather like Quincy Jones turn a rapper called The Fresh Prince into a television star named Will Smith, who would later metamorphisize into one of the most bankable, international movie stars ever. Smith now belongs to the two billion dollar club (total movie box office grosses) joining the ranks of longtime Hollywood players Tom Cruise, Mel Gibson and Robin Williams.

And the answer is no, we haven’t completely overcome yet. Black women are still the awkward stepchildren at the Hollywood family table who, despite the dearth of capable and talented working black actresses, are only allowed to eek into the A-list, It-Girl spotlight one lone female at a time (Whoopi Goldberg, Angela Bassett, Halle Berry… who’s up next? Hmm…only time will tell.)

It’s my hope this blog column will continue to provide a colorful, intelligent and insightful look at the industry as a whole. And it’s not going to be all heavy, because it is entertainment after all; they’ll be film reviews, award night commentary, casting news, trend spotting and more. It will be the place to examine and ponder bandy concepts, spray holes into stereotypes with the force of an uzi and see through all that frothy media manipulation and hype and more. Stay tuned.