half nelson

"half nelson"
dir., ryan fleck
2006

i remember reading an article in the ny times style section about the absence of exciting, young american male actors. for every josh hartnett there's a paul walker. these actors might be pleasing to the eye of an adolescent school girl but they are devoid of a complex honesty or any incendiary appeal. we're short on supply of our young brandos, deniros, pacinos, or hoffmans. however, after watching the blistering performance of former teen pinup ryan gosling in ryan fleck's "half nelson", i am certain that a new presence is brewing in the movies and it also served as a reminder that film is very much a visual medium that is tailor made for magically capturing the art of performance. when the camera and its complicit subject feed off each other in just the right way, the climax is something memorable and palpable. gosling's comfortable screen presence is beautifully expressive and screaming with something to say and a story to tell. his youthful face pulls you in and convinces you of whatever he is urging to share. working with a seemingly cliched and gimmicky story that could only happen in independent films (a world where drugs, lower class america, and children in deviant environments are part of the norm), gosling overcomes such easily identifiable trends in independent cinema and imbues his performance as a middle school teacher with a secret and crippling crack habit with a truth that is searing to watch and doesn't leave the mind anytime soon.

in this scene gosling sneaks away to the girls locker room after a basketball game for a quick hit. his lithe frame creeps around the grimy corners of a public school locker room that are inscribed with vulgar love notes and carved out initials of misfits and lovebirds. he finds a stall, or a literal space to enclose his secret, to feed his addiction. i love the close up as we watch his face become flushed with fever and filled with the rush of the high. however, his moment of chemically enhanced elation is interrupted with the arrival of one of his students. attempting to further conceal his dark and potentially career-ending secret, gosling curls up into a ball trying his best to be silent but internally he is convulsing with shame, shock, and fear that he will be found out. sound plays a key role in this scene as the sounds of the crack of his lighter, his student's urine hitting the toilet water, and the loud thud of the toilet flush become amplify and heighten the tension between the contained secrecy and possible discovery of his addiction. what follows makes the scene resonate and powerful.

gosling meets his match in the unvarnished performance of newcomer shareeka epps. her pursed lips and throaty voice belie her cherubic face and tween years. her character's reaction to discovering that her unassuming teacher and basketball coach is in fact an addict is stunning and unexpected. her character has a brother in prison for drug charges and a neighborhood friend seduces her with the financial gain of drug life, therefore instead of shrieking with shock and surprise, she stays with him and aids him in coming down from his high. she respects her teacher and wants to help him, not shame him and destroy him. although her innocence has been corrupted by past experiences and the present circumstance of the ugly face of drug addiction, it wouldn't be accurate to call her a victim because of the quiet maturity she demonstrates by helping and not hurting her teacher. the dialogue, or the lack of, is brilliant in this scene because not much is said in a conventional sense (ie, "please don't tell anybody.") but rather an unspoken tacit agreement is made that neither will reveal the secret. this isn't showy acting but two acting partners capable in mutually expressing their vulnerability and inward pain.

these nuanced and mature performances only happen every so often. gosling makes you forget about every other male american actor in his age range who are either busying themselves playing superheroes or some variant of a man-child too afraid to embrace impending adulthood and its vast complexities. it's clear a new star has arrived and this is why we go to the movies.