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Eye on Arts

21.2.04

In the Cut (DVD), cont. — by Todd Babcock
Contributed by Charles T. Downey at 10:04 AM | Link to this article
Mark Ruffalo (You Can Count On Me, The Last Castle) has been given outrageously high praise: that he is "the next Brando" and "the future of acting" (I’m not kidding: see this article in The Guardian from last November). What I found brave was not only his unapologetic performance but also that he quite publicly noted that he found it only with Campion's guiding hand. While it would be easy for a young actor to bask in the praise and nod quietly in acknowledgment of his greatness, Ruffalo was quite frank that he didn't think he could do the role and was often coached back into form. The result is a trust in his persona over indicating to the audience that you should like the guy. By all accounts, when we see Detective Malloy on the screen we practically want to scream to "our Meg," Get out of there! It's this space, which Ruffalo allows, that pays off when we are finally allowed into his past.

Campion has said that she wanted to create a piece that was more a throwback to the 70s style of filmmaking, where the character was the story. She has succeeded in this endeavor and, maybe unfortunately, the story of our deranged serial killer seems to take a back seat. While, as an actor, I am more than pleased to forgive this fault and become entranced with the visceral reality that these artists have created, I can see why reviewers and audiences felt a bit left out on a full movie.

In recent years we have been witnessing actors who have achieved a certain iconic status suddenly pare down their personae for something that is perhaps closer to themselves. About Schmidt won Jack Nicholson numerous awards, more for what he didn't do onscreen than what he did. In this year's Lost in Translation, we may see another icon following suit, in that Bill Murray feathered that film with a whisper of what we know he can do. While Meg Ryan is by no means muted or fractional in this movie, it is a far more naked and unpolished performance than I think she's ever given. (The closest is Flesh and Bone, with then-husband Dennis Quaid. One can also see a pre-"Gwynnie" Paltrow in fine form.)

The world of In The Cut shows the mundane, earthly beauty that New York has to offer (it was shot entirely on location). Campion creates a color-saturated filth that is a haze for female survivors (the exquisite Jennifer Jason Leigh) and male hostility (Kevin Bacon in an unbilled role for all you movie-gamers), where poetry literally finds its way through all the cracks. While many don't see their nights off at the cinema or their queue on Netflix as an opportunity for professionals to "attempt" anything (by all means, since we don't pay a plumber to guess how to fix a pipe), I'd argue that these artists make failure far more compelling than most successes.

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