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Many's the star who has a memorable role in a huge hit movie, fails to follow it up with anything of comparable impact, and then proceeds to coast for years on the goodwill it generates. (We've already delineated this phenomenon in our Fame Audit of Sharon Stone.) It's not surprising that so many actors do it, given the fact that in any given year, there are only about twelve good roles to be had in all the movies produced, from every studio -- and five of those will probably be played by Julianne Moore. The issue is that most of the roles on which actors coast do not merit the staying power granted them by producers and the public. Demi Moore in Ghost? Doesn't balance Mortal Thoughts, The Butcher's Wife, and The Juror. Nicolas Cage in Leaving Las Vegas? No excuse for Con Air, Snake Eyes, and Gone in Sixty Seconds. And Claire Danes has been coasting on My So-Called Life for...well, going on six years now.
Even Samuel L. Jackson -- the original bad motherfucker -- has been coasting. He's been coasting -- for going on six years now, too -- on Jules Winnfield from Pulp Fiction. But here's the thing: it's a part worth coasting on. He's come by his coasting honestly. He's earned the right to coast for a while.
I happened to watch Pulp Fiction on TV just last weekend. Like all right-minded people, I've seen Pulp Fiction on several occasions. I've owned it on video, on letterboxed video, and, now, on DVD. Whatever you may think about Quentin Tarantino as a person or a celebrity (and, believe me, I think he's a buffoon), or about his use of the "n" word, or how sick you may be of the goddamn "Royale with Cheese" scene (and, believe me, I feel you on the last one), it's just a great movie, and in spite of the myriad rip-offs that have flooded the market in subsequent years, it still stands up. I daresay most of the reason it does stand up is due to Jackson's performance. We see Jules in nearly every conceivable mood: joking with a friend and co-worker; debating what constitutes cheating with a man's wife; scaring the piss out of small-time drug cheats; discussing his religious faith; scared, himself, when he strays from his professional script and gets himself in trouble; humiliated at the solution to his predicament; ultimately triumphant when he's able to help spare the lives of strangers. It's the performance of a lifetime, really. It's breathtaking.
Jackson was justly nominated for a Best Supporting Actor Oscar™ for Jules Winnfield (which he lost), and since then, he's been having a nice, long, probably satisfying coast on that role. Which is not to say he hasn't been working -- quite the contrary. Jackson has been incredibly busy throughout the '90s; he's appeared in twenty-seven feature films since Pulp Fiction. But they haven't all been...quite as memorable as Pulp Fiction, nor has he been fortunate enough to play anyone as magnetic as Jules since then. I mean, he wasn't likely to be nominated for any awards for such fare as The Great White Hype. Or The Long Kiss Goodnight. Or One Eight Seven. Or Deep Blue Sea. But Jackson isn't stupid. He knows we're still waiting for another Jules-calibre performance, so he'll mix up his indifferent appearances in shitty films by playing small but significant and interesting roles in small but significant and interesting movies -- like Eve's Bayou, and The Red Violin, and Trees Lounge. He teased us by playing Ordell Robbie in Jackie Brown -- basically, a Jules retread, with a different funny hairstyle. (And, speaking of different funny hairstyles, the less said about Unbreakable, the better. What the fuck is on his head in that shit -- a Muppet?)
Shaft really represents the turning point of Jackson's career. For one thing, it's probably the highest-profile role he's played since Jules. And it's emblematic of his fame that he played it, since there's not another actor in his class -- of his age, as famous as he -- who could carry a movie loaded down by such high expectations. (Delroy Lindo? Maybe a few years ago, when he and Jackson were about equally famous, but not now. Lindo is another bad motherfucker, though.) But it's also, we think, the last of his "coasting" roles. Come on, Jackson could have played Shaft while in a coma. And it was a big movie, yeah, and we're sure he made a lot of money off it, but...that's it, right? You're going to stop saying yes to every script that crosses his desk and just do good movies from now on, right? Right? Please? Could you? Because we don't want to have to revisit this Fame Audit two years from now and bust you down to Keenen Ivory Wayans.
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