Secure Immaturity

There is a strange parallel universe where George C. Scott and Tony Danza share top billing in a movie AND actually equal each other in performance. And while I could go on and on about how Tony Danza really isn’t that bad of an actor given the right material I’ll save that for Tony Danza Week which will happen in. . .2012, after the apocalypse. Let’s not get sidetracked: today is the first day of Jack Lemmon ‘Week’ and we’re starting with one of his performances that is probably best known for the award Lemmon DIDN’T win. I wouldn’t call it infamous exactly because it’s kind of sweet and tear jerky but Ving Rhames, the large black actor from the television film Don King: Made in America, was so choked up over winning that he gave the award to Lemmon saying that he deserved it.

I’m sure the ‘who deserved what’ is always up for debate but it wasn’t the movies or even the performances that mattered in that humbling moment between Lemmon and Rhames. Lemmon’s performance in 12 Angry Men, if we are going to talk about it, was that of the set-up man (whereas Rhames was the true star of his film). A character of no strong conviction or emotion whose existence propels the other excellent actors to action, Juror #8, the man who stands alone in a room full of 11 angry, hot, sweaty, and, in some cases, racist, jurors, isn’t particularly complex but has to maintain a presence that ignites the fires of the jurors around him. So while bland on paper, only a special actor can portray Juror #8 as they have to be able to act with 11 different types of actors as well as garner sympathy from the audience in what appears to be a losing cause. Lemmon is cast perfectly. He is not only loved by audiences but by his fellow actors and while the play/film lacks a certain atmosphere at times (sometimes you just can’t replace a stage) you can tell the other eleven actors are doing their very best to act WITH Lemmon.

And when I say there is a wide range of actors of that there is no doubt. The mesmerizing George C Scott, calm and old veteran Hume Cronyn kind of represent the old school legends of the game but they are surrounded by notable television actors (Courtney B. Vance, James Gandolfini, Tony Danza, William Petersen), journeyman movie actors (Mykelti Williamson, Edward James Olmos), and aristocratic film actors (Armin Mueller-Stahl). I can’t say that the presence of Lemmon alone makes these gentlemen rise above their usual levels but, in most cases, these actors deliver the greatest performances of their careers (Williamson and Danza specifically) and they just so happened to be interacting with Lemmon in their greatest moments.

12 Angry Men’s original screen adaptation was similar in its performances. Henry Fonda, a legend of the screen, was Juror #8, and he was mostly surrounded by actors that, at best, you could say you ‘maybe saw somewhere that one time’ (I’m probably pissing off a whole slew of classic movie buffs. . .sorry; all I remember is the guy who did Piglet was in there. Oh, I do remember Jack Warden now that I think about it). Fonda’s presence, like Lemmon’s, was enough to propel the other actors into action but you wouldn’t be able to believe 11 other people would be fired into action without someone strong and with a presence to make them act the way they do.

George C. Scott, justifiably, rules the roost since he is the most bombastic and dynamic of the cast. He has the most characterization and background and he becomes the villain, of sorts, who, at times, seems to exist to go against Lemmon’s Juror #8. Any scene where those two interact is extremely powerful and the best part of the movie because you have two men who are the same age from the same time who lived different lives and now have drastically different perspectives. Seeing Scott and Lemmon go at it is just mesmerizing. So, in a way, Scott is the notable performance of 12 Angry Men. . .which doesn’t take anything away from Lemmon. But Lemmon is wise enough to not make Juror #8 more than he is. He is the conscious. . .the 11 other actors and the audience are experiencing humanity through his point of view.

12 Angry Men could have been one of Lemmon’s most forgotten performances if it wasn’t for the Ving Rhames Golden Globe switch but, sadly, it IS a forgotten performance for many of the other actors. No one seems to talk about Edward James Olmos’ brilliant portrayal of a noble European. No one seems to mention Tony Danza playing his type of character but at a new level. No one talks about the likable and un-CSI like William Petersen. Or the spellbinding Williamson, most known for playing Bubba in Forrest Gump. So Lemmon and Scott are known for other performances, some of the others will seemingly be lost in time, stuck behind Ving Rhames award.

I Cried the Day Jack Lemmon Died by William Johnson

There is a time in a person’s life when they don’t exactly have perspective. I was fortunate to live a life where the first person I really knew and loved died when I was 25. I heard of a few deaths here and there but never really tasted that emptiness you feel for a loved one in ‘reality’ until I was grown up. In a way, the death of a family member was the final rite of passage as an ‘adult’. I almost lived in the type of fantasy world that exists in television and movies: someone may ‘die’ but they’re always around to do a flashback or a guest appearance as a ghost or, in some cases, even come back to life!

Everyone accepts the fantasy of television and movies in different ways. Some people ignore it completely. Some watch it mindlessly and move on. Some are engrossed and others are obsessed. And with obsession comes its own caste system: some people are obsessed and maintain websites or go to conventions and some people go to extreme levels. I’d like to think (and pray) that I am somewhere in between. I lead a responsible life but I can get a tad obsessed with a show here or a movie there. I remain grounded. But that brings us back to reality and your perspective. By the time I heard the news that Jack Lemmon, my favorite actor had died, I didn’t know what death was. And next to family, my ‘relationship’ with actors was pretty close. Hearing about his death instantly brought tears to my eyes.

I was in high school and my mom wondered what I was crying about. I told her ‘it isn’t fair. It just isn’t fair’. Naturally, my mother was momentarily freaked out thinking something really bad had happened but then she saw CNN and noticed that Lemmon had died. She, knowing me, knew this was the first death of someone I really loved and she comforted me. Thankfully my dad wasn’t there. . .he would have been less comforting about something so seemingly silly (especially now when I have seen and felt real death) but he was, at one point, a victim of this type of adoration as well. Early in life, while listening to Lynyrd Skynyrd, my dad told me he cried the day Van Zandt and half the band died in a plane crash. He told me it was the only time in his life he cried for someone he didn’t know.

We probably all have those moments. As a real young kid I cried when Optimus Prime died. I was so young and naïve that it didn’t matter that Optimus Prime death was a marketing ploy to sell new toys by Hasbro. It was someone personal to me and I cried. Jack Lemmon was a part of a different stage of my life: a time of growing up and learning my sense of humor. He not only was my favorite movie star and actor but he also connected me to people: my best friend Tony and I worshipped the guy and to this day we are connected because of his movies. But also, I was moved by the ‘art’ of the man. People touch us in many ways and in some cases they are trivial and for pleasure only, like movies. And at that young age, Jack Lemmon had touched me personally and made me appreciate emotion and character.

Now a days I don’t think I could cry for an actor or musician unless it was after the fact and there was a moving ceremony or something. Jack Lemmon’s death was a once in a lifetime (ironic) thing that happened. I had yet to feel a certain aspect of life (and this death) so his death was all I understood of that concept and I wept. It was crushing. It was a moment in time that will never happen again. It’s almost like the loss of a certain type of innocence.

He was a special talent and a special person and a breed of actor that no longer exists. When he died, a type of acting died with him as did a type of entertainment. Maybe a new generation (or old generation) of fans can love or re-love him all over again. I cried the day Jack Lemmon died. . .but his art and his humanity will live on forever.

Starting July 16th all the way through July 31st I will be doing a ‘week’ on my all-time favorite actor, Jack Lemmon. I’ll be reviewing fifteen classic Lemmon movies ranging from 1955 all the way to 1998 as well as contributing three essays on the man himself. I am really pumped for this whole thing to start so I have already begun preparing and watching so the reading experience will be enjoyable for all. I’m not going to release the ‘playlist’ , as it were, yet to keep some sort of surprise. Anyways, see you all July 16th for the opening statements on Lemmon ‘Week’.