It's a shame, because Hugh Jackman deserves a movie partner who's willing to take chances. This is his second lead performance in a romantic comedy this year (the first was the misguided and uneven "Someone Like You," with Ashley Judd), and his third lead overall (he starred in the otherwise dreadful "Swordfish"). None of these three are particularly memorable movies, but as far as Jackman is concerned, it doesn't matter. On the basis of the four movies I've seen him in (the first was the wonderful "X-Men"), I've decided that he belongs in a very small, select group that I call the Teflon Actors -- people who deliver consistently terrific performances, no matter how bad the material.
In "Kate & Leopold," Jackman gets lots of stiff, awkward dialogue: "You are intoxicated!" he informs Charlie at one point, speaking in a manner that was commonly used before we got hip to the idea that contractions are our friends. And yet somehow, he makes it believable. Jackman has so much dignity as an actor that he never even stops to think he might look silly in this role -- and so he doesn't. He inhabits it as fully and as generously as possible.
That's why, when he looks at Ryan, his eyes betraying shyness, lovesickness and joy all at once, he seems wholly timeless -- not like a 19th-century character stuck awkwardly in 2001. He's been perfectly cast in this picture: His nose alone is magnificently noble, and his carriage is, too.
And the movie's silliest scene -- or the one that has the biggest potential for silliness -- ends up being remarkable because of him. When a purse-snatcher grabs Kate's bag and dashes off into Central Park with it, she takes off after him, but can't catch up. She turns to see Leo, mounted on a horse borrowed from a nearby horse-and-buggy outfit, galloping valiantly to her aid.
You can't blame the movie for milking any excuse to put Jackman in tight breeches and boots -- it's a look that works for him, there's no getting around it. But what's more amazing is how natural, and how wonderful, he looks on the back of that horse, galloping boldly into the midst of what should be a completely absurd scene.
He scoops Kate up, which spoils the effect: As a hardened city girl who's uncomfortable on the back of such a fine steed, she windmills and mugs as she scrambles into place, making herself the star of the moment, when all you really want to do is watch him.
Jackman is astonishing in "Kate & Leopold," not least because he fills out a flimsy, far-fetched character into a person you feel as if you know. At one point, entranced by the horses and carriages he sees lined up along Central Park South -- unlike automobiles, they're familiar and comforting to him -- he suggests that he and Kate use one of them as transportation. "Those are for tourists," she informs him matter-of-factly, although not unkindly, as she rushes for a cab.
What's odd is that in "Kate & Leopold," Ryan is the one who seems like a tourist, pasted into a movie that doesn't feel natural or right. But Jackman looks and acts completely at ease, even though he's the one wearing antique clothing. As an actor, he couldn't be a man out of time if he tried.