Title: About Jack

Date: 1/10/2003; Publication: Jerusalem Post; Author: Emanuel Levy


Jerusalem Post

01-10-2003

Headline: About Jack
Byline: Emanuel Levy
Edition; Magazine
Section: Arts
Page: 16

Friday, January 10, 2003 -- After four decades of acting, Jack Nicholson still has plenty of surprises in him. In his new movie, a social satire calledAbout Schmidt, he gets very real and plays an Everyman his own age.

Ever since the film's premiere in Cannes last May, there's been an Oscar buzz about Nicholson's work, considered to be one of his most inspired performances in a long and distinguished career that encompasses more than 50 pictures.

Nicholson signed on for well under his usual $15 million salary. It paid off: He got the best reviews of his career, and has already won the prestigious acting award from the Los Angeles Film Critics Association.

An Oscar for Schmidt will make Nicholson the most- celebrated actor in Oscar's history. With three Academy Awards to his credit and 11 nominations, he'll tie with Katharine Hepburn, the all-time champion who has earned four Oscars out of 12 nominations.

Nicholson is the first American actor since Marlon Brando and James Dean in the 1950s to possess the elemental energy and exuberant personality to capture the American collective consciousness in the post-Vietnam era. A revolutionary player within the Hollywood commercial system, he has always chosen his parts carefully. While most of his roles are those of outsiders and misfits, they are never the same.

In 1975, after winning his first Oscar for One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Nicholson was declared the finest actor working in American film. But it was a long, tortuous road to the top for him.

He began his Hollywood career in low-budget quickies and B movies. Then, in 1969, a trick of fate pulled him out of the shade, when Rip Torn backed out of Easy Rider. Nicholson was given the part - just a cameo as a cynical dropout lawyer - and stole the show from the film's stars, Peter Fonda and Dennis Hopper. A stream of juicy parts followed: Five Easy Pieces, in which he played a character specifically created for him, a maverick pianist abandoning a concert career to become an oil rigger; The Last Detail, and, of course, the indelible crime-noir Chinatown.

A cinematic icon for at least three decades, Nicholson has worked with the best directors in the world: Stanley Kubrick (The Shining), Michelangelo Antonioni (The Passenger), Roman Polanski (Chinatown), Milos Forman (One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest), and John Huston (Prizzi's Honor).

But Nicholson is also known for his generous support of young filmmakers, such as his friend Sean Penn, for whom he made two films: Crossing Guards and The Pledge. And now he's the center of the work of another up-and-coming filmmaker, Alexander Payne, who previously made two highly acclaimed social satires: Citizen Ruth, about abortion, and Election (1999), a savagely funny look at high-school student-council politics that catapulted Reese Witherspoon into the major league of American comediennes.

NICHOLSON PLAYS Warren Schmidt, an insurance actuary who knows the mathematical odds on life expectancy but doesn't know his own emotions. He can't connect with his sweet, slightly bovine wife, and his angry, distanced daughter, about to marry a man he considers a philistine, a waterbed salesman.

Payne worked on the story by intertwining an old script he had written as a UCLA student with a novel (of the same title) by Louis Begley.

"He is just a nice Midwestern guy who has played by the rules he was instructed to play," says Payne. "What interested me was taking everything away from the man - his career, his marriage, his daughter, his fatherhood - all the institutions that had given him some semblance of meaning. Without those things, a man is forced to find the bedrock of who he really is. And maybe at his age it's too late. Maybe he lacks the necessary tools anyway."

Nicholson has played many regular guys prone to failure. But he's an actor who knows how to play to an audience, how to get viewers to share in and root for his flawed characters. Since moviegoers expect little of his roles, he's capable of doing - and saying - anything. Indeed, he's the kind of actor who makes the most meticulously written dialogue sound fresh and improvised. Audiences feel comfortable with him, and that comfort is the key to the popularity and versatility of the Nicholson screen heroes, or rather anti-heroes.

Nicholson's specialty has been playing conflicted characters, vulgarians who are vulnerable. His sweet- sadistic alternating current has kept audiences watching closely for 45 years. He possesses that cynical smile - the calculated insult that alerts audiences to how close to the surface his hostility and anti-establishment feeling is.

IN SCHMIDT, Nicholson doesn't use the glinting, funny- malign eyes. He says he was instructed to get rid of his familiar gestures, avoid his boyish shark's grin and indulging his wiggling eyebrows. Sporting an utterly different look, he tones his performance way down. To capture Schmidt's weariness, he keeps his voice low.

Nicholson has always been good at creating privileged actor's moments, small explosions of temperament as well as brilliant insights into the characters he's playing. By now he's become such an expert at fine modulations that he digs with relish into Schmidt's mix of sonorous patter and good- hearted grunge.

A sharply observed character study, Schmidt takes the form of a middle-American road odyssey. At first, Nicholson's Schmidt, a sleepy-eyed, combed-over lump of a man, looks like a victim of Nebraska's banal existence. But after retiring from a lifetime in the insurance business, he hops into a Winnebago for a cross-country journey to his daughter's wedding in Denver. Along the way, we get to know Warren as a upstanding man who can't connect with anyone because he is alienated from himself.

Nicholson shows effectively and expertly the man's muted agony over his retirement and the loss of his wife. Veering expertly between the comic and the tragic, Nicholson makes us wish that Schmidt will find his inner self and raise the protest he has built inside him.

"You wonder just how far you're willing to go in terms of flop sweat, in not saying what you mean," the actor says. Indeed, the performance is a marvelous balancing act: Nicholson takes Schmidt's many human failures and makes them funny, maddening, sad - and deeply touching.

Nicholson, like his idol, the late Laurence Olivier, can change his physicality and identity from part to part. Early on, Nicholson found a key element to his role - "I'm a comb-over," he says.

To play Schmidt, Nicholson quit his perennial watchfulness in the weight department. He explains: "The role is autobiographical in the sense that you don't always know what you're doing in life. This guy was a projection of what my life might have been like. If I had decided to just sit in one place, this might be what I looked like."

AS THE movie is set in Omaha, Nebraska, Nicholson hoped to evoke all "these ghosts," the many famous actors who have come from Omaha, among them Henry Fonda, Montgomery Clift, and Brando, his next-door neighbor on Hollywood Hills's Mulholland Drive. Well-versed in history, Nicholson goes even further back, pointing out that Fred Astaire and comedians Harry Langdon and Harold Lloyd also grew up in that region.

Though talking with passion about his new film, Nicholson alludes to a certain depression that settled over him as he shuffled through the role. Harry Gittes, Schmidt's producer and Nicholson's friend, says "it was not so much about Jack's romantic quandaries as it was other inner grapplings with age, family, and work."

Director Payne was ambivalent about his star's suffering: "He was bringing the man to life, and there's nothing more gratifying than to see someone not just fulfill, but surpass all your expectations. The joy was in not knowing exactly what you're gonna get."

It's the first time in Nicholson's career that he not only plays a man his age but also looks that way. It was not easy for a man living in a youth-obsessed culture. Nicholson claims he stepped into Schmidt's unattractiveness with mixed feelings.

"It was only rough when I looked in the mirror on the way to work," he concedes. "I did feel, 'My God, I'll never recover from that.'"

Though Nicholson scored both critical and commercial success with As Good As It Gets (1997), which won him his third Oscar, he is mindful of balancing his work between small, challenging independent films, such as Penn's art- house but uncommercial films and big, mainstream movies.

He explains: "Every once in a while I'll do something slightly more accessible with broader potential," alluding to films like Terms of Endearment, Batman, or A Few Good Men.

Hitting the age of 50 (in 1987) was Nicholson's most intimidating experience to date.

"It's when your real loss of innocence and sense of mortality somehow come crashing in on you," he says. He was therefore "delighted" when he turned 51, as he reasons: "Just to get out from under the mystique of it. We all seem to grapple with it in different ways."

So how does it feel to be 65?

Says Nicholson: "I am happy with my job classification. It's a wonderful life to have. Every movie company is different. It's a constant challenge."

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