THE STORY – When New York actor Paul Cole is beaten and left for dead in 1950s Ohio, he loses his memory and finds himself stranded in a mysterious small town where he struggles to get back home and reclaim what he’s lost.
THE CAST – Andre Holland, Gemma Chan, Toby Jones, May Calamawy, Joe Cole, Asim Chaudhry & Fabien Frankel
THE TEAM – Duke Johnson (Director/Writer) & Stephen Cooney (Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 98 Minutes
As someone who has a strong adoration for film noir, one notable plot device used in a majority of these films throughout the 40s and 50s was amnesia. It’s the perfect mechanism to propel the story forward. Typically, the protagonist of these films is engaged in an internal battle, fighting to retain their memories of a life (or crimes associated with their character) before they devolve into further trouble. With that being said, there’s something inherently noir-ish about Duke Johnson’s latest film, “The Actor,” despite it operating on a far more phantasmal register. While Johnson’s solo debut could be considered slight at moments, his direction stands above it all, which lends itself to an often stirring drama about what constitutes a good life, let alone who we are.
“What good is an actor who can’t remember his lines?” Maybe someone should emphasize that to relatively prominent 1950s actor Paul E. Cole (played by Andre Holland). The New York-based performer has found himself in a predicament after fooling around with another man’s wife while his theater troupe was performing in a small town in Ohio. After receiving blunt force trauma to the head, Paul wakes up in a hospital with no recollection of his previous life and even struggles to remember the tiniest details from his daily experiences. With no money in his pocket and little to go on, he aims to head back to New York to do the only thing familiar to him: acting. Of course, that is easier said than done as plenty of the obstacles that life brings sidetrack Paul, including a blossoming new romance with a town local named Edna (played by Gemma Chan). What is set up within the first few moments of “The Actor” leads Johnson to take viewers on a journey clouded in the vast emptiness of Paul’s subconscious. While the story is inherently straightforward, Johnson’s approach is far more abstract. It’s something that rings in similarity to the previous film he co-directed with Charlie Kaufman, “Anomalisa.”
Johnson’s sense of visual storytelling is riveting here, especially with how Joe Passarelli’s cinematography and Garret Elkins’s editing perfectly coalesce with one another. In all of its gracefulness, the camera constantly transitions through different environments, connecting often fragmented memories filled with diaphanous lighting. We’re continually blacking in and out like moments almost bordering on vignette-esque. Paulina Rzeszowska’s exquisite production design is also fantastic, blending in well-implemented miniatures and dream-like backgrounds that attempt to create a hallucinatory environment. Richard Reed Parry’s score is another aspect of “The Actor” that helps immerse audiences instantly as it plays over the film’s opening credits, harkening back to films of that period. Under Johnson’s direction, these factors help create a simmering mood piece. Still, it’s hard to discern where these aesthetic choices lend any substance to a story that speaks nothing new about appreciating what’s truly important in one’s life. At the very least, it lends itself to letting the cast of this film explore themselves throughout this richly constructed playground.
It should be screamed to the heavens that Holland is one of our most under-appreciated actors working today. What he does in “The Actor” is another reminder of his unparalleled ability to captivate those lucky enough to bless their eyes with his talents. Holland brings such an empathic presence for a character constantly shifting between confused and compassionate. There is only so much in Johnson and Stephen Cooney’s screenplay that allows an actor of Holland’s caliber to color in the lines so beautifully for a character struggling to define himself. While Chan appears sparsely in the film, Johnson implements her perfectly. Everyone else in the ensemble (or the troupe, as the opening credits call them) plays a variety of characters throughout “The Actor.” In one moment, actors such as May Calamawy and Joe Cole will play close companions attached to Paul’s life in New York. Then, in the very next moment, they’re either strangers or simply background participants in his life, constantly rotating in and out of scenes like a revolving door. This choice by Johnson is one of the many directorial flourishes that help viewers experience the same scattershot nature that Paul’s mental capacity is currently in.
This feeling of consistent haziness bleeds into almost every aspect of “The Actor.” Without any knowledge of the book from which it’s adapted, it’s easy to see Johnson’s vision here despite the material not matching the acuity behind every decision he makes behind the camera. What “The Actor” does showcase Johnson as a filmmaker that we should keep our eyes on. It was far too long since he last made a film, and we should all hope it doesn’t take another ten years for him to return with another one. Also, we wouldn’t object to Johnson collaborating again with Holland cause when the two are in symmetry; it can’t be magic to watch unfold.
