William Hurt

I share a special affinity for actor William Hurt, who specializes in aloof, serious, WASPy intellectuals. Aside from the fact that he has appeared in two of my all-time favorite movies -- Lawrence Kasdan's Body Heat and Wayne Wang's Smoke -- I think he's often emminently watchable in any movie whose pace is slow enough to simply enjoy the way Hurt carries himself and articulates sentences. I get a kick out of just noticing how disshelved his delicate blond hair can get (very much so in The Village).

A few interesting factoids gleaned from the "internets" as Bush would say:

- He's the step-son of Henry Luce III, who is the son of Time founder Henry Luce
- Married twice, divorced twice
- Speaks French fluently
- Born in Washington, D.C.
- Attended Tufts
- Lives in Oregon (as of 2004)

My favorite bit of dialogue from a William Hurt movie is at the end of Smoke when Hurt's character Paul Benjamin, a novelist, buys lunch for Auggie Wren (Harvey Keitel), a local cigar shop owner/proprietor. In exchange, Wren gives Benjamin fodder for a 'Christmas Story' that Benjamin has been asked to write for the New York Times. Wren weaves a fantastic story that in my mind gets at the push-pull relationship between brotherly love--love for material objects that symbolizes Christmas in America in modern times.

In short, the story is that Wren sees a punk kid stealing some magazines from his store one day, chases the kid down as he runs out of the store, and picks up the kid's wallet, which fell out of his pocket as he was dashing off "like a jack-rabbit." Several months later, on Christmas Day, Wren is stuck w/ nothing to do and decides that he's going to return the wallet to its rightful owner. He drives to the projects, searches for and finally finds the right building and apartment. The woman who answers the door is 80 years old and blind. She says, "Is that you, Roger?" Possibly she mistakes Wren for her grandson. Or maybe it's an invitation to play a game of make-believe in which Wren is invited to play-act that he's Roger, the doting grandson who came to visit his beloved grandmother on Christmas Day.

Wren decides to play along. "Yes, it's me, Grandma, I came to visit you on Christmas," he replies and initiates an evening of lies (over dinner though, which Wren dutifully prepares and eats w/ her -- a very kind, loving act). When Wren goes to the bathroom to relieve himself though, things take an unexpected turn and Wren commits an act which "was particularly crazy and I have not forgiven myself since." Wren notices that a stack of brand new cameras are piled above the toilet. He has never taken a photo in his life, but at that moment he decides that he wants one of those cameras. So he takes it. And that is that. When he returns to the living room, he notices that Grandma is asleep. So he tucks the camera under his arm and leaves the apartment. In subsequent years, Wren decides that his life-long project will be to take a photo of the street corner outside his cigar shop every day at exactly the same time.

And that is the end of the story. A marvelous story really. It shows man's power to act w/ compassion and humanity toward his fellow man. Yet the pleasure and enjoyment that Auggie brings is mixed up w/ lies, deceit, theft, and material desire -- both his and Roger's. So what's the point? Perhaps, that the story is a recognition of who we are as humans and that we error. And a hope/belief that the same compulsion we have to lie/steal/desire can be channeled to create a positive outcome, as often as it can lead to a negative outcome. Perhaps. Nonetheless, it makes for a great story.

Too good to be true, as Benjamin realizes. "Bullshit is an art, Auggie," he says. It's not clear how much of the story Auggie made up, perhaps the entire thing. But it was a terrific story...Auggie smiles, inhales from his cigarette, and smiles a real broad grin.

Here's where my favorite bit of dialogue comes in:

Wren: If you can’t share your secrets with your friends, what kind of friend are you?
Benjamin: Exactly, life just wouldn’t be worth living.

End of movie. Pretty darn perfect scene. And fabulous movie, strongly recommended by this reviewer.