Risa Bramon was the casting director for Angel Heart. She also cast Something Wild, Jacob’s Ladder, True Romance, all of Oliver Stone’s pictures, Flirting With Disaster (if there was an Academy Award for “casting”, she should have won it for that film), Flesh and Bone and many many others.
Casting is not just about reaching out to the giant movie stars, or finding co-stars appropriate to the giant movie star who has already signed on. Casting is about finding the right woman to play the hatcheck girl who has one line, or the closeups of various people in crowd scenes, the little girl sitting on the steps in one scene, everyone. The faces of a film help us into its atmosphere, its world. People like Howard Hawks, working as he did within the studio system, would try as much as he could to fill his crowd scenes with actual people who seemed like they actually LIVED in that world (as opposed to hopeful starlets and professional extras). It gives his films a sense of reality that many others at that time do not have. Witness To Have and Have Not (my post about it here – look at some of those faces – they appear indiginous to the world of the movie, not the world of Hollywood) or witness Only Angels Have Wings (here is my post on the first 10 minutes of that movie – launching us headfirst into that world, and look at the faces … Look at the people Hawks found to fill up his screen.) It makes what we are looking at seem authentic, as opposed to re-created.
Casting directors have different jobs for different movies. If you’re casting something like The Matrix, you will not have the same considerations as if you were casting Dog Day Afternoon. Often, it is just about the look. People are cast for their looks, I mean that is obviously the case … and it is always better to find someone who already IS that part, who already has it in them … than to cast potential. Stallone has talked about the casting of the original Rocky and how important it was: first of all, the budget was low, so that limited their choices (which ended up being a blessing). But second of all, he cast people who “already had it in them”. Burt Young didn’t have to turn himself inside out to find Paulie. He already had it in him. Just put him into the right context, turn the camera on, and get out of the damn way.
Often, a casting director will take a risk that pays off. A dear friend of mine is a successful casting director here in New York. Years ago, she had seen a fabulous one-woman show by an unknown actress named Camryn Manheim. Because of her weight, Manheim had obviously had a rough time getting cast in things … so Manheim did the best she could, either struggling in obscurity, doing whatever job she could get … or, finally, writing something of her own to perform. It was a hit. But again, Manheim is fat – and let’s remember: it’s not easy for THIN people to get work, so you can imagine the struggle for someone like Manheim. People just didn’t think of Manheim when they were casting certain things – even if the part didn’t necessarily call for a thin person to play it. Anyway, my friend saw her one-woman show and thought, “This chick is amazing. I need to start calling her in for things.”
So she did. Any job that came up (my friend casts commercials) that she thought Camryn would be good for, she’d call her in to audition. Nothing happened. But it’s a long process. You aren’t going to hit a home run on the first try, so my friend kept working at it. Eventually, a commercial came along that required a car mechanic to be working on a suspended car. The mechanic would be standing, the car overhead, the mechanic’s head inside the guts of the car – and then the mechanic would duck down, show his (of course it would be a he, right?? Aren’t all mechanics “he”??) face, say his lines, etc. A simple commercial, albeit a national one (that’s where all the money is, booking a national commercial). My friend got the idea to call Camryn in for it. Naturally, the producers and the client had envisioned a man for the part. They hadn’t said as much, but it was implicit. My friend decided to pretend that she DIDN’T know it was supposed to be a man – and while yes, she called in as many big burly guys that she had on her books – she also set Manheim up with an audition (without revealing to the client that she had done so, without warning them, “Now … I’m going to call in a woman for this …”). My friend could just SEE Manheim in mechanics’ overalls, hidden in the car, and then the surprise on the reveal of her face – that it was a woman. She thought she would be perfect for it. On the day of the audition, the casting office filled up with big burly guys, wearing battered jeans, tool belts, and boots. Sitting amongst them, was Camryn Manheim, going up for the same part. Ha!! I love it. My friend ran the casting session, ushering each actor in to the room with an introduction to the producers and clients – and so, with no fanfare, no preparation, she opened the door, and said, “Next up – Camryn Manheim.” And Manheim walked into the room. After a day of seeing only men, there was naturally a weird vibe in the air, but Manheim set herself up in front of them, the camera started rolling, she started working on the imaginary car in the air, saying her lines, and she nailed it. She booked the commercial. It had taken a courageous risky casting director to see beyond the stereotype, and think, “Yeah, yeah, I know – big burly guys are mechanics … but I know that Manheim would be GREAT here … so let’s just throw her before the client and see what happens …” Non-traditional casting sometimes takes a risk like that, because people do have a picture in their mind of what a part should look like: she should be a blonde, he should have a mustache, the guy should be fat, he should be white … whatever. There are some parts that obviously call for traditional casting. Driving Miss Daisy is the story of a black chauffeur and a white rich woman. That’s the story. But sometimes a story does NOT call for a specific racial aspect … why can’t the best friend by Asian? Why can’t the associate at the law firm be gay? Why can’t that couple be interracial? Why can’t these things exist outside of the plot?? That’s my favorite kind of casting: a person who just happens to be gay, a person who just happens to be black … Our identifiers, our separateness from others, is not the whole story. But again: sometimes it takes someone taking a RISK to make such casting decisions a reality. And of course – if Camryn Manheim had gone into that casting room and bombed, they wouldn’t have hired her. You, as the actor, have to “show up” – even MORE so than an actor who is “perfect” for the part. You have to SHOW them that you can do it. You have to open up their minds to other possibilities. Manheim did so. She walked in there and she WAS that mechanic. She wasn’t “given” that part. She TOOK it.
Having just seen Angel Heart again a couple of nights ago (get ready for a Mickey Rourke kick. If I had had a blog in the late 80s, it would have been all Mickey Rourke all the time) I was struck by a lot of different things – and I’ll write more about it … but right now, I find myself thinking about all of the faces in that film. Not just of the leads (although their faces are burned in my brain as well) but of every single person who ever shows up on screen in that film. Alan Parker, when he films on location, always holds open casting calls for the locals – and, as much as he possibly can, fills up the smaller parts with people who either have no acting experience but look perfect for the role, or people who are stars in the local community theatre, and can do a specific part that Parker needs. The boys tap dancing in the streets in Angel Heart were actually a group of boys Parker saw in New Orleans, tap dancing on the street, so he put them in the movie, and they become very important thematically. The obese sweaty guy who plays the cop investigating all the murders was a New Orleans local. He’s fantastic. The woman who works in the voodoo shop behind the counter had ZERO acting experience but she has a very important scene (mainly of exposition) with Mickey Rourke, and she nailed it. Apparently, too, Rourke was very kind to her, sweet and inclusive, making her feel comfortable. She’s terrific. The job of a casting director in this type of film – with diverse locations (New York and Louisiana) as well as a two-pronged theme (the typical detective story in the Raymond Chandler genre mixed with the occult) is very specific. Parker didn’t want too many known faces in the film. Rourke, DeNiro and Bonet were enough – well, and Charlotte Rampling, although her face-recognition-factor to American audiences was not as strong (and even Bonet was an odd choice. She was very young and the star of the most wholesome sitcom in television history. To cast her as a writhing voodoo goddess was non-traditional and out-of-the-box thinking at its finest and most brave). For all of the rest, Parker wanted unknowns.
And so, as I watch the film, still as powerful today as it was to me the first night I saw it in college with all of my friends (and we all FLIPPED OUT about it and went out to Bickford’s afterwards and talked about Rourke deep into the night), what strikes me now is the faces that fill up every frame.
It helps give the film its stamp of odd authenticity, its slightly off-kilter reality. These are not “horror film” faces, they are locals who appear to inhabit the world Parker is trying to convey. And what the faces do, ultimately, is to create a world that serves to highlight best the work of the leads. Rourke, especially. He navigates a strange space here, trying to understand, trying to see … and without all of the startling and individual faces that were cast to make up the rest of the film, his work would not have been showcased as it should have been. As it is: he seems the most human, the most open, the least opaque … everyone else appears to be holding on to secrets and demons (and again: this is a matter of CASTING right … some people’s faces just LOOK odder than others) … and Rourke appears to be an open book. Of course, in light of what his character eventually realizes about himself over the course of the film, it was a perfect choice. Because he is has the biggest secret of all. It’s so big he doesn’t even know he HAS a secret.
I heart Dann Florek so much I’d buy whatever he was sellin’. What a face.
Wonderful insight to the world of casting…
I think it was on your blog that I read about the extra’s in Casablanca (the scene where they were singing the “Battling National Anthems” and the Germans were eventually drowned out) being actual French evacuees. After reading that I used it as an excuse to purchase another copy of the movie, this time in Limited Edition DVD format, and watch it yet again. Even though I ALWAYS see something new every time I watch Casablanca, that particular scene stood out as never before. Thanks!
Mark – Yes!! So their emotion was real! Someone looked around during the filming of that scene and everyone was in tears. It just gives that scene so much more power than it would if all the extras had just been regular old starlets and Hollywood workhorses. Some of those extras had been GIANT stars in their home countries and here they were – as basically background in an American movie – but what emotion they leant to the scene!!
Funny that you’re on a Rourke kick. I just got Rumblefish in from Netflix yesterday after being on a Sin City kick for a few days.
Cullen – Love Rumblefish!
I’m preparing to see The Wrestler, prepping myself for him. Mickey Rourke was my favorite actor back when I started getting serious about acting. I still think his talent is untouchable. He excites me. His 5 minutes in The Pledge is some of the finest most painful acting I’ve ever seen. You can’t believe he can sustain it. You are relieved when the scene is over, so that at least Rourke can get a break.