Actors get put into supporting roles for a number of reasons. They may not be considered attractive enough by "movie star" standards. However, they may be too good to pass up, so a place is found for them in a supporting role.
Sometimes actors prefer supporting roles. (John Malkovich is a good example). After all, there are benefits to not being the lead. The careers of supporting actors are usually more prolific because they don't need to worry about over-exposure. They can move easily between stage, tv, and screen because they aren't confined by a persona the way stars often are. Their careers tend to be longer-lasting because their lower profiles keep audiences from tiring of them as the years go by. They are the true work horses of Hollywood.
JOHN CAZALE
He always played struggling, marginalized characters. He was primarily a stage actor, but the few films he did were heavy hitters: The Godfather I and Godfather II; Dog Day Afternoon; The Deer Hunter. Interesting story: during the filming of The Deer Hunter, he was dying a painful death from bone cancer. When the studio found out how ill he was, they made the decision to fire him. However, his girlfriend and co-star Meryl Streep threatened to quit if they did so (pretty laudable, considering this was her first big opportunity in Hollywood). The studio felt Streep was a perfect fit for her character and didn't want to lose her, so they agreed to keep Cazale. He showed up every day for work and finished the job. He died shortly after the film wrapped. He gives one of his best performances as Fredo Corleone in The Godfather. There is a scene in which he stands with his stronger, more confident brothers around his father's bed after he has returned from the hospital. Sonny prompts Fredo to tell their father about his new role in the family. Fredo pauses, embarrassed by the attention. Haltingly, he says, "I'm going to...learn the casino business." With this one line, he conveys just what a boy Fredo still is; how much he wants his father's respect and how unsure he is that he has it. With this one line, he delivers the whole character.
EVE ARDEN
Eve Arden's career spanned sixty years and included radio, tv, stage, and film. On film, she almost always played the part of the man-hunting, wise-cracking best friend or the smart, single professional woman. In her youth, producers felt she lacked the sexual allure of a leading lady. Ironically, this probably contributed to her longevity in the business. When the beauty of the leading ladies faded, they were as good as done. Eve Arden's screen persona wasn't dependent upon beauty, so she was cracking those one-liners right into her seventies.
She was at her best as Maida Rutledge, secretary to lawyer Jimmy Stewart's in Anatomy of a Murder. There is a scene in which Jimmy Stewart asks Maida what she thinks of the potential client who awaits him in his office. The client is Lee Remick, whose sexuality simmers and occasionally boils right over. Without pausing in her work, Maida says, "Soft. Easy. The kind men like to take advantage of....and do." Her timing is what makes this scene noteworthy; it is the perfectly timed pause before she says, "....and do." There is no ta-dah tone that was so common in crime dramas of that era. She was smooth as silk. She was like that in every scene in every film. A pro.
JOHN MALKOVICH
Intense, quirky John Malkovich's body of work comprises writing, directing, producing as well as acting. His film career alone includes 74 movies.
Max's comment was intended to engender the General's respect: the General may know physics, but Max is a cop and he has seen things. Malkovich's dismissiveness keeps the cop down where he belongs, as he sees it. There is even a barely perceptible mocking tone in his question. He's one of very few actors who could infuse a soft-spoken, polite question with contempt.
SHELLEY WINTERS
If Shelley Winters had walked down the average American street in her prime, she would have stopped traffic. Hollywood, however, did not consider her beautiful enough to play glamour roles. Thus, she was given the role of the mother in Lolita; the weak, tragic wife in Night of the Hunter; the cougar to Michael Caine in Alfie. She took what Hollywood offered her and ran with it.
In Alfie she was cast as lead actress. This doesn't mean her character has any more screen time than the other women who fill Alfie's stable. She is, however, the woman who has the most profound affect on Alfie. She plays Ruby, a smart, sexually aggressive older woman. She needs nothing from Alfie but occasional sex. As a result, he starts to fall for her.
At the end of the film, Alfie lets himself into Ruby's apartment and discovers that she already has company in the form of a naked man in her bed. "What's he got that I don't?" he asks Ruby. "Come on, out with it." Shelley Winters takes a long, emotionless look at him. There's a hint of a smile on her face, but it's a cold smile. "He's younger than you," she says. "Got it?" Then she holds out her hand for her house key. It's a line that makes you feel sorry for Alfie, who has always been the picker, chooser, user, and rejector of women. Because of Shelley Winters' finesse with this line, Alfie knows that for the first time in his life, he's been out-gamed.
MORGAN FREEMAN
How do you boil down Morgan Freeman's career to one best role or one best scene? Impossible. If for some reason you don't think he's one of the top five actors of his time, think of Shawshank Redemption. Juxtapose the following two scenes.
The first involves his final parole hearing in prison. By this point, he can barely remember a time when he hasn't been incarcerated. Freedom is no longer a goal for him. He's disgusted with the parole process, with life, and with himself. He sits slumped in a chair, his voice low, dull, uncaring.Lay that performance alongside the scene in which he is finally free and working as a bagger in a grocery store. He is completely lost in his new world. He doesn't know where to begin. His instincts tell him to be compliant, so he is, but there is a desperation in his eagerness to please. The pitch of his voice is higher than it was in prison. He moves quickly and nervously as though he's waiting to get caught at something.
Morgan Freeman plays this scene so well that he makes it seem as though the lifetime spent in prison was not punishment enough. The system saved the worst of his punishment for last--freedom.
JULIETTE LEWIS
She prefers edgy roles in non-formula types of films. Admittedly, she's a lot to handle. She's not a feel-good kind of actress. Her characters are often difficult to warm up to. Take, for instance, the pitiful character of Adele in Kalifornia. Here, her performance is impressive, but more impressive is what Juliette Lewis chooses not to do with this character.
Adele is a young, intellectually impaired woman whose limitations lead her into a relationship with Early, a psychopath played by Brad Pitt. Most reviews of Kalifornia describe Adele as "childlike." She is that, but she is also annoying as hell. She gives Early free reign to abuse her. She often cries and begs him to be nice. She lives in a perpetual state of denial, even in the midst of his killing sprees. She understands that murder is wrong, but she never actually holds him accountable for his deeds. In the end, when she does attempt to leave him, she does so because she claims he's "mean." That is the extent of her understanding of who he is.Most actresses, in an effort to flex their skills, would try to add a dimension to Adele. They would try to give her a glimmer of intelligence or depth. Juliette Lewis does not. Adele is neither intelligent nor deep. It takes discipline for an actress to hold back like that; to play the character as she really is, not as the actress wishes she would be.
CHAZZ PALMINTERI
His career as a supporting actor has been surprisingly diverse. Still, he's best known for playing the congenial mobster or detective. In A Bronx Tale, he plays Sonny Lo Specchio, the mob overlord of the neighborhood. Sonny is reminiscent of Vito Corleone in his prime. He's well-mannered and impeccably dressed. He is a father figure to the young ones coming up. He has a set of rules that are very easy to follow, and there won't be any trouble as long as they're followed.
His best scene is one in which he plays a classic boss. Mind you, it's not Oscar material. It doesn't take anyone out of their comfort zone, least of all Chazz. It's a scene that gives the audience the immediate gratification of street justice, mob-style. It involves a group of bikers who pay a visit to one of the bars under Sonny's protection. Initially, the bikers say all the right things and pass Sonny's test, so he gives the nod to the owner to go ahead and serve them. However, the moment Sonny turns his back, trouble starts. When they refuse to leave, Sonny calmy walks to the door and locks it. "Now you's can't leave," he says pleasantly. Violence ensues and the bikers are punished for their lack of respect.
Chazz Palminteri plays the role of the likeable heavy over and over again. It's always good to see actors stretch, but there's also a comfort in watching an actor become the master of one type of character.
CLORIS LEACHMAN
She's a rare supporting actress in that she was never really typecast. She played Shakespeare, drama, and comedy. Without question, though, her finest performance was Ruth Popper, the middle-aged wife of the football coach in The Last Picture Show.
Ruth lives without hope in a small, dusty Texas town that is gradually shutting itself down. Ruth too is shutting down until she is revitalized by an affair with a sensitive teenaged boy. Her most remarkable scene comes when he knocks on her door, needing comfort after he has treated her shoddily for several months. As soon as Ruth lays eyes on him, she undergoes a number of emotional transformations. She is depressed. She is furious. She is nurturing. Finally, she regains her composure and visibly strengthens. There is not one moment in which she over-acts; she gives the scene entirely to the character. This is to say she does not use the scene as a platform for her career . In doing so, she was rewarded with an Oscar for Best Supporting Actress.
EDWARD NORTON
Apparently there is no role he can't play. It's quite possible that when Ed Norton is offered a role, he reads the script and just says to himself, "What the hell, I'll give it a try." He has played goofy, dark comedy; he has played boyish, self-effacing charm; he has played full-blown badass. The only consistency in his roles is that he seems to do best when playing responsible adults who are restless and turning just below the surface. With one exception.
In Primal Fear, he plays Aaron Stampler, an ingenious sociopath. There is a surprise twist ending, but suffice it to say the role is a three-for-one deal. His best scene is the emergence of Roy, the alter ego of the stammering and confused Aaron. There is a moment when he gets right into the face of his lawyer, played by Richard Gere. He admits to a murder, and as he does so, he smiles. It is more accurately a self-satisfied sneer. When evil triumphs, that is what its smile looks like.
MADELYN KAHN
She was never so strong as when she played characters who were funny because they weren't trying to be funny. This was especially true in her portrayal of Trixie Delight in the Depression-era film Paper Moon.
Trixie is a quasi-prostitute who latches onto Moses Pray (Ryan O'Neal) for a quick ride. This doesn't go over well with Moses' daughter Addie (Tatum O'Neal) who, until then, has been an effective and equal partner in her father's scams. Addie is accustomed to sitting in the front seat.
Madelyn Kahn gave the best scene of her career (and certainly one of the best in screen comedy) when she tries to have a girl-to-girl talk with Addie. Addie has plunked herself down on the top of a hill, refusing to budge until she is allowed to sit in the front seat again. Enter Trixie, trundling up the hill in her frilly dress to try to make peace with the girl. She approaches Addie as though she were a typical child, which she isn't. That has no effect. She then tries to talk to her as an adolescent who might be interested in cosmetics and earrings. Again, no effect. As Trixie's patience wears thin, she orders Addie to get her ass off the ground and into the car. Addie doesn't move. Finally, Trixie resorts to honesty. It may be the first time she has ever leveled with anyone in her life. Once she reveals herself, it's clear she's far from stupid. She knows who she is. She also knows she's dealing with her own expiration date. Trixie's candor results in a cooperation between the two. The scene is hilarious. When I hear the cliche "comic genius," this is the scene that comes to mind.
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