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Sunday, Jul 12, 2009
You know him as that red-faced rageoholic or the drippingly sarcastic dad. But you probably don't know Christopher McDonald's name, despite the dozens of movies he's stolen from bigger stars.
May 20, 2004 | Today we bemoan the relative obscurity of character actor Christopher McDonald, who is generally known as, "You know, that guy who played the bastard husband in 'Thelma and Louise.' Not Michael Madsen. The other guy."
Why would Michael Madsen be a householdish name, and not the handsome and exquisitely hilarious Christopher McDonald? Why is Alec Baldwin, the oiliest toxic sponge since latter-day Jerry Lewis, playing the leapingly zany John Barrymore role in "20th Century" on Broadway, while Chris McDonald lives and breathes air? Consider the name recognition of actors who should be condemned to pulling Chris McDonald around in a rose-covered pony-cart for the rest of their professional lives: Kevin Bacon. Rob Schneider, Pat Swayze. Jim Belushi. Tom Arnold, for the love of Moses. What went wrong? Where did we, the audience, fail Chris McDonald?
McDonald, one of seven kids, grew up in New York City and had the best, most posh theatrical training available on the planet, in such hallowed halls as the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art. (That's RADA, bitch. You may kiss his hem.)
He has appeared in over 83 films and TV projects since 1978. For my money, McDonald is the proof in the pudding that there are no small parts, only small actors -- he's starred in a handful of films but stolen dozens, with all the red-faced, air-punching, bastard exuberance of Pete Rose -- still, he never really made the jump to bona fide star status. Why? Was McDonald too funny to be considered handsome, or was he too handsome to be considered funny? Did he just not give a fuck? Is he so great at playing assholes that people are duped into thinking he actually is one?
Maybe it's because most of the time, like the best smart-assed teenage boys, he arranges his face in a deadpan, but his big blue eyes are always screaming with glorious, dynamic insincerity. Maybe that look makes directors mistrust him, but it makes me want to dance with him to rowdy music on a pool table.
The overwhelming bulk of McDonald's films are abject crap: unwatchable Hollywood boner-pulling like "Grease II," "Wild Orchid II: Two Shades of Blue," "Best of the Best 3: No Turning Back."
He's gig pig, makin' a living -- who can blame him? The regrettable shite surely gives him satisfying checks from the Screen Actors Guild. What differentiates McDonald from the usual sellout is that he really tries, and generally succeeds, to bring a magic blot of vitality to every role, no matter how moronic. Still: In squandering his divine and expensively hewn talents on unregenerate Hollywood dung-bombs, I wonder if he has robbed himself of the credibility he deserves. There's a distinct laundry list of roles for which McDonald gets cast:
Usually the scripts suck such abysmal amounts of donkey waste that the director and/or casting agent appear to have winked at each other at some point and said, "Fuck it. Give it to Chris McDonald. He can bleed some yuks out of it."
