My initial intention with this piece was to prove a point about Tom Hardy and how deep he goes for his roles. He is the best actor of this generation yet he sometimes carries a stigma of being difficult and not tuning in to his director’s frequency. That’s occasionally true but it is far from the widespread claim some have made.
Hardy, more often than not, gives the exact performance a film requires and if the rest of the production cannot keep up, that is not a Tom Hardy problem. It’s interesting to me how people in general understand that filmmaking is a collaborative endeavor yet they love to pinpoint blame on why a certain production fails to deliver. It is never one thing.
For my purposes, I watched the 2015 Brian Helgeland film, Legend, and the 2020 Josh Trank Film, Capone. Two films and Three Hardys. Here we go.
Legend tells the story of the Kray twins, London gangsters who ruled the criminal underworld in the 1960s. Hardy plays both lead roles in the film and he gives two distinctly different performances — one more successful than the other. He digs deep but oddly enough, Helgeland’s script doesn’t match his primary actor. The film is way too long for how thin everything feels. We never get to know any of these characters. It baffles me because I am a huge fan of Helgeland. This man has some real highs on his screenwriter resume. As a director, Helgeland seems most at home with the grit and grime of criminals, so it’s an even bigger surprise that he struggles to maintain control over this film. On paper, Legend is a slam dunk but in reality the sum is lesser than its parts.
With that said, Hardy does shoulder some blame here. His performances are great but as an actor he sometimes delves into subtlety to a fault. Hardy reminds me a bit of a younger Johnny Depp, who was known as the actor who got awards nominations for his costars over himself for a portion of his career. Now, this sounds weird to say because Hardy himself has already been honored but it is part of what makes him special. He’s an actor who reminds people of several other actors. Hardy possesses the full spectrum. He is equal parts Depp and Cage while also reminding people of Paul Newman and having the technical quality of Olivier. And I haven’t even started with the Brando comparisons yet. He’s the closest thing since — even more than someone like Mickey Rourke. The thing about Hardy is that he knows how to wring something interesting out of every scene and in this way, he’s just like Walken. What do these actors all have in common? They elevate every piece of material. It doesn’t mean they save it because when an actor prefers nuance, they can take a good movie to a great level but can only take a mediocre movie to an interesting level.
I know, I’m rambling.
So Hardy plays two different roles, right? Ronnie and Reggie Kray. Ronnie is charismatic and and suave. Hardy is having fun playing Ronnie and Helgeland focuses most of the film on the more classic mobster twin. Playing Reggie is where Hardy really digs deep, hanging his lip and mumbling his lines while playing the off-kilter brother. The problem here is, the rest of the film feels like bullet points. It’s a bit too ambitious and tries to cram too much into its runtime. Had Helgeland sold this as a prestige limited series and spent more time with all of the era, the results would’ve been much better. What I meant saying Hardy shoulders some blame is that his performances felt disconnected from the rest of the film. It’s almost like he saw this wasn’t working and took it upon himself to inject something more interesting. The tone, ultimately, is all wrong. This is in stark contrast to the troubled production of Fury Road. Hardy famously wasn’t the easiest to deal with on that set and thought his career was in trouble for signing on to that film. He didn’t go supernova though and trusted Miller enough to keep his performance as dry as that wasteland. He allowed Theron to sit center stage and the result was a masterpiece.
So, we see how things can go wrong throughout a production and how someone like Hardy can sometimes go rogue on their director.
Here’s the catch: He’s been accused of the same thing with Capone and that is just plain wrong.
From the first moments of Capone, I was looking for a seatbelt. I turned to my wife, laughed, and said: holy shit is Tom Hardy all-in on this performance or what?
He looks like warmed over death, shuffling and mumbling his way through his past and personal demons. The film is wild — a slow, meditative film about death and how memory controls our lives. The photography is wonderful. Excellent shot composition can tell a story without words — just ask Nicolas Winding Refn. Here, Trank lulls us into a nightmare about the final year of one of the most notorious gangsters in our country’s history. Much of this film plays like a series of snapshots from a time lost. Capone is trying to remember but his disease is playing tricks on him. The cinematography is beautifully dangerous, often blending nature with what we build on top of it — like hiding something rotten beneath something pretty. Nothing is cool here — it’s not that kind of movie. Trank successfully builds dread from the mundane. The film moves beyond the myth of the man and into the harsh reality of what dementia does to anyone afflicted with that disease. Of course, in Capone’s case, this was all brought on as a by-product of syphilis. What happened to Capone is gross and uncomfortable and Hardy is along for the entire ride. He’s full on supernova in this film but I will argue that it isn’t to the film’s detriment, it instead elevates the film.
I have spent time with family members suffering from dementia and Alzheimer’s. It is a harrowing journey a person takes as their memories and life are stolen from them. They exist in a constant state of confusion, denial, and frustration that can often boil over into anger. Hardy nails this at every turn as we weave our way through one dark fantasy to the next. Trank and Hardy work in perfect concert as they place us inside a diseased mind, plunging us into madness. Hardy needs to go as big as he does — the film requires this level of commitment and bombast. Capone was a larger than life person and in his final year, more-so. He was no longer playing to the press or trying to scare off others coming for his throne. Instead, Capone spent his final year alternately chasing and running from an uncontrollable monster, himself. I’ve seen what the disease does to a person firsthand and I can tell you that Hardy and Trank took great care while using deep, methodical thought in this portrayal. It may seem like Hardy took it upon himself to elevate the material but that is simply not the case. Trank wanted this and the film needed this. It allows every other actor in the film to go bigger without the film suffering from grandiosity. Linda Cardellini specifically, is tremendous. Playing Capone’s exasperated wife, she stands on equal footing with Hardy and is never blown off the screen. Had Hardy gone softer, the film wold have been a chore. Subsequently, had Trank not wanted this heightened level of performance from his actors, Hardy would’ve blown everyone away and the film would still have been lifeless.
Instead, we’re left with a look into a disease that will dismantle anyone, even the largest of legends.
To summarize this rambling mess of a piece, painting with broad brushes serves nothing and no one. We often like to do this because it requires the least amount of thought and analysis on any subject. Tom Hardy gives his all, each and every time, and to suggest he’s an actor who fails to connect with his directors’ vision is reductive and just plain wrong.
Next week, Tales From The Loop. Until then, love each other.
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