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With the Russell Croweapooloza that was the year 2001, it seems natural to think back and wonder, whither Guy Pearce? Pearce, of course, starred opposite Crowe in 1997's L.A. Confidential, as Ed Exley, the drumskin-tight cop who was the rule-adhering superego to Crowe's arm-breaking id. Since both actors are Australian, and both were at the time only vaguely known by the general public (Pearce was likely to familiar to some for his turn in The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, but it's not clear how many people understood that he is, in fact, a man), the film seemed like a dual breakout. Both actors were widely lauded for their complex and compelling portraits of two seemingly opposite men who [warning: spoiler ahead!] team up in the end to destroy Megalon and save Tokyo from destruction. (Naturally, the film's lone acting Oscar went to...Kim Basinger, as Megalon.)
We all know what happened to Crowe, who now stands astride Hollywood like a dour-faced Colossus of Rhodes, an Oscar in one hand and Dennis Quaid's still-beating heart in the other. The casual Hollywood observer might assume that Pearce -- whose sole film credits post-L.A. Confidential are Ravenous, a 1999 thriller about cannibalism; a supporting part in the Tommy Lee Jones / Samuel L. Jackson court-martial thriller Rules of Engagement; the lead in the indie Sundance darling Memento; and two other films called A Slipping Down Life and Woundings, neither of which involve, to our knowledge, Tommy Lee Jones, court martials, or cannibalism -- has quietly disappeared off the radar screen of fame, the window of opportunity having slammed shut on his fingers before he could sneak in. The casual Hollywood observer might assume that Pearce has become the Peter Scolari to Crowe's Tom Hanks. In fact, the casual Hollywood observer might well believe that Pearce is now whiling away his days throwing shrimps on the barbie, chasing "Sheilas," watching Russell on Access Hollywood, and wondering about what might have been.
But, of course, the casual Hollywood observer would be wrong. Because it is, in fact, Russell Crowe who should be looking at Pearce and wondering what might have been. Or, rather, it is all of us who should be looking at Crowe, then Pearce, then back at Crowe, and wondering what might have been. As noted on this site previously, the fact that Crowe has won an admittedly well-deserved Oscar likely means that his challenging, complex parts are in the past, and his Jerry Bruckheimer movies are in the future. Because no one is going to pay Russell Crowe his new, inflated price tag to put on thirty pounds, wear ugly glasses, and disguise himself as J.T. Walsh, as he did in The Insider. From now on, it's all matinee idol, all the time.
Which is fine, because that's how Hollywood works, and the only way to fight it is to stay far away from L.A. and to choose, consciously, only to involve yourself in small, interesting indie projects, the nature of which will all but ensure that you will never find yourself as the subject of an Entertainment Tonight cover story. And who in their right mind would do that? Well...Guy Pearce, for one.
While doing publicity for Memento, Pearce made a lot of noise about how much he hates L.A. and cares about the craft. Which we're happy to hear, as long as it means he'll keep tackling roles like the one in Memento, in which he does an astonishingly good job of a very difficult task: i.e. looking convincingly surprised in every single scene. How does all of this affect his level of fame? We're prescribing a tiny top-up -- not so much that he'll follow Crowe's footsteps into the lead in next summer's Gone in 120 Seconds, but just enough to give him a buffer zone in case a few of his upcoming indies hit distribution problems and wind up premiering on Showtime.
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