It feels relatively safe to say that no single Christian Bale performance is quite like the other. Sure, he’s transformed his body countless times, dropping a tremendous amount of weight for certain roles (“The Machinist,” “The Fighter”) and gaining an abundance of it for others (“American Hustle,” “Vice”). But in terms of the roles he chooses and how he tackles them, Bale is constantly redefining himself: perpetually in the process of shedding his artistic skin so that he may effectively become whomever, he sets out to play.
Bale is, of course, one of our bigger and more recognizable movie stars (the guy played Batman, for Christ’s sake). So it’s a testament to his insane level of talent that the guy is such a chameleon – if we weren’t all so familiar with his public profile, there’s a good chance that we might not recognize him from project to project. Like Daniel Day-Lewis before him, Bale is determined to embody the people he plays (to borrow a quote from “American Hustle”) “from the feet up.” There’s a reason everyone from Terrence Malick to Adam McKay wants to work with this guy: once you’ve got Christian Bale as a part of your creative arsenal, you’re suddenly playing with a full deck.
Bale’s latest transformation is in the upcoming Oscar hopeful “Ford v. Ferrari,” where he’s just one part of an outrageously stacked ensemble (the film also reunites Bale with his “3:10 to Yuma” director James Mangold). To prepare yourself for Bale’s latest chameleonic act of reinvention, read on and revisit some of the great actor’s most daring and iconic performances.
“Velvet Goldmine”
“Velvet Goldmine” is a bit of an odd duck in the eclectic filmography of Todd Haynes: it lacks the ferociously subjective eye of films like “Safe” and “I’m Not There” while also skimping on the immaculate polish of the director’s period melodramas, “Carol” and “Far From Heaven.” While “Velvet Goldmine” remains one of Haynes’ scruffiest films, it’s still an appealing fetish object and a stylish ode to vintage glam rock glory. The film bowed in the states in 1998, two years before Bale would make the most vicious of impressions in “American Psycho.” In “Goldmine,” the Welsh actor enjoys a slightly more demure but nevertheless compelling part playing British rock n’ roll journalist Arthur Stewart, who takes it upon himself to dive headfirst into the life and complicated past of enigmatic glam rock icon Brian Slade (played by a never-better Jonathan Rhys Meyers). Similar to Patrick Fugit’s starstruck fan in “Almost Famous,” Bale’s Arthur Stewart is a sincere, principled journalistic professional digging for an increasingly elusive truth amidst a sea of outsized, eccentric personalities. “Velvet Goldmine” is notable for not being a vehicle tailored around Bale’s method tendencies, but the actor is nevertheless magnetic and utterly persuasive in depicting Stuart coming to terms with both his homosexuality and also the music he loved so dearly. Haynes has a blast summoning the Bowie-esque pomp and extravagance of the era, while Bale’s game turn is ably buoyed by an enviable supporting cast that includes Ewan McGregor, Toni Collette, and the great Eddie Izzard.
“American Psycho”
**Bold claim alert**: Christian Bale’s turn as a pouty, body-image-fixated yuppie serial killer in Mary Harron’s “American Psycho” might just be the funniest depiction of a murderer in the history of film. This might be a dubious claim to some, as Bale’s Patrick Bateman, a status-obsessed Trumpian monster, executes countless horrendous acts throughout the film (at one point, when his sanity is really starting to slip, Bateman goes so far as to try feeding a stray kitten to an ATM machine). And yet, for a movie about homicide, male fragility and toxic, harmful behavior, “American Psycho” is shockingly funny more often than not. It’s hard not to chuckle when Bale loses his shit trying to remove blood stains from his expensive bedsheets – ditto for when he fawns with jealousy over a rival’s business card, or for his repeated refrain that he has to “return some videotapes”. In “Psycho,” Bale expertly depicts a pathetic, awful man coming completely undone. He makes us wince in repulsion at the acts of malice and violence that Bateman commits, while also letting us know it’s okay to laugh at his painfully blinkered 1%’er view of the world. As always, the actor is wholeheartedly committed to his character’s perspective. He never makes a plea for audience sympathy, and never asks to be understood. Patrick Bateman is a man wearing a socially acceptable mask so that he may commit deeds most of us couldn’t even fathom in our nightmares. In that regard, he’s one of Bale’s most memorable and repugnant creations.
“Laurel Canyon”
Laurel Canyon, Los Angeles is a storied place: the stuff of rock n’ roll fairy tales, and a living bastion of musical legend that once played home to the likes of Frank Zappa, Neil Young, Carole King, and others. “Laurel Canyon” the movie is another one of director Lisa Cholodenko’s wistful, deceptively straightforward character studies about well-meaning people adapting to generational struggle (see also: her critically well-regarded crossover hit “The Kids Are Alright”). In “Laurel Canyon,” the inimitable Frances McDormand plays a rock n’ roll queen who also happens to be a mother: an unabashed free spirit whose freewheeling lifestyle occasionally clashes with that of her straight-laced adult son Sam (Bale). Much of the dramatic friction in “Laurel Canyon” comes from the culture-clash comedy engineered between this carefree mama bear and Bale’s uptight, newly engaged square-peg. Throughout, the actors keep us engaged. McDormand, as always, is one of the most indelible actresses in modern film, and Bale is more than capable of meeting her halfway. It’s also rare to see Bale playing such an ordinary, unremarkable dude, particularly when you consider this is a guy who’s played dragon-slayers, murderous investment bankers, a former Vice President, and, uh, Batman. “Laurel Canyon” doesn’t always sing the way you want it to, but Cholodenko’s easygoing direction and the melodic interplay between McDormand, Bale, and co-stars Kate Beckinsale and Natasha McElhone are all reason enough to check it out.
“The Machinist”
Those who saw pre-production stills of Christian Bale as he was getting ready to make “The Machinist” had every right to be concerned about his well-being. After all, this was arguably Bale’s first truly method role, and his propensity for physically arduous acting wasn’t something we associated with his persona quite yet. Why did Bale look so frighteningly thin? When was the last time he slept? The actor reportedly lost 65 pounds to play a troubled, insomnia-plagued machinist Trevor Reznik in director Brad Anderson’s grim and nightmarish drama, subsisting on a diet that entailed one cup of coffee and one apple per day, plus the occasional splash of whiskey. By all accounts, Bale was driven to the brink of madness as a result of his role in “The Machinist”: in his own words, he “wasn’t going to work” and had “no social life” and “no more friends.” Some would argue that this kind of commitment equates to suffering unnecessarily for one’s art, but hey, that’s just the kind of actor Bale is. In “The Machinist,” we quite literally watch Reznik vanish before our eyes. It’s an oft-distressing spectacle: frequently unpleasant and pretty much impossible to forget. Anderson directs Bale with a sure hand (he’s the guy behind the sturdy thriller “Transsiberian” and also the Halle Berry-starring “The Call”), and the actor rarely strikes a false note here. While you may want to avert your eyes from Bale’s withering frame at certain junctures, “The Machinist” makes it hard to look away. This is bold, fearless, transformational acting – the kind that Bale would eventually go on to win Oscars for.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PVaPS3GgH_g
“Harsh Times”
David Ayer spent most of his pre-“Suicide Squad” career returning to the same well of motifs – dirty cops, corrupt codes of conduct, and the mean streets of Los Angeles – with generally uneven returns. The finest example of Ayer’s love-it-or-hate-it worldview is his script for Antoine Fuqua’s blistering “Training Day” (although it’s telling that the finest Ayer-related project to date is one that Ayer didn’t direct himself). “Harsh Times,” Ayer’s directorial debut, is simultaneously invigorating and exhausted, with fine acting drowning in a sea of tough-guy clichés and bland crime movie bravado. However, “Harsh Times” has one big ace in the hole that occasionally allows the movie to transcend its trope-ridden screenplay: Christian Bale (duh). Bale plays PTSD-afflicted former Army Ranger and full-time scumbag Jim Davis: a man who is single-mindedly committed to joining the LAPD so that he may marry his understandably exasperated Mexican girlfriend (played by Tammy Trull) and start a new life in South Central. It doesn’t take more than five minutes in Jim’s company for us to realize that he’s not exactly LAPD material. Even by the standards of that famously problematic law institution, Jim is a real piece of work. He’s a crass, piggish whiteboy, prone to violent outbursts, drinking and driving, and bouts of reckless impulse that endanger the safety of those around him. The only thing keeping Jim in check is his buddy Mike (Freddy Rodriguez), and after a while, he too gets dragged down into the gutter. “Harsh Times” depicts a world not many people will want to spend time in, but Bale wholly commits to Jim’s frightening volatility, brilliantly embodying a temperamental joker with no prospects who is determined to bring everyone in his orbit down to his level.
“Rescue Dawn”
When you think of difficult directors, a few names come to mind: Michael Bay, Michael Mann, James Cameron, etc. Werner Herzog puts them all to shame (go watch “Fitzcarraldo” if you need convincing). The German maverick has never encountered a seemingly insurmountable challenge that he didn’t feel like tackling head-on (this applies to Herzog’s narrative work as well as his documentaries). Thankfully, Bale, who has worked for some very tough directors in his time, was up to the challenge. Apart from his daunting turn in “The Machinist,” “Rescue Dawn” may be remembered as Bale’s most physically demanding role. In our opinion, it’s also one of his best and most overlooked performances. Throughout “Rescue Dawn,” Bale – who plays German-born U.S. pilot-turned-P.O.W. Dieter Dengler, the subject of Herzog’s 1997 documentary “Little Dieter Needs To Fly” – is tortured, starved, verbally harangued, tied to a cow with a rope and dragged across dirt, and forced to eat worms just to stay alive. Lest you think Herzog’s period epic is some monotonous exercise in arthouse misery porn, let us assure you: “Rescue Dawn” is actually a stirring and gorgeously crafted look at what it means to survive, against the odds and by any means necessary. Bale throws himself into the part with distinctive abandon, while still managing to generously share screen time with co-stars Steve Zahn and a frighteningly emaciated Jeremy Davies, both of whom play Dengler’s fellow prisoners of war. Some Herzog-philes view “Rescue Dawn” as one of the legendary director’s more minor efforts, but we maintain that it is still a stunning and harrowing effort, buoyed by Bale’s characteristically fierce work.
“The Prestige”
Unlike some of the other directors Christian Bale has worked with – David O. Russell, for instance, or Adam McKay – Christopher Nolan is not really what you would call an “actor’s director.” While he’s unquestionably a brilliant filmmaker, he’s not exactly someone who likes to swing for the fences in terms of the performances he tends to elicit from his cast. Nolan generally prefers a kind of austere, tampered-down intensity: think of Leonardo DiCaprio’s tormented thief in “Inception,” or Guy Pearce’s addled, agonized sleuth in “Memento.” “The Prestige” is one of Nolan’s best films, and it also features two of the most notable performances from any of his films. Bale plays blue-collar musician Alfred Borden, stage name The Professor. Compared to Hugh Jackman’s erudite Great Danton, Alfred is a grubby, coarse social striver. He’s also a man practically bursting at the seams with naked ambition and raw talent – if he can’t best Jackman’s aristocrat illusionist at his own game, then what’s the point of anything? At times, it’s tempting to see Jackman and Bale’s characters as two complementary sides of Nolan’s own artistic persona: the ostentatious showman and the underdog trickster, both vying for the spotlight. As Borden, Bale broods appropriately, and the severity of his screen presence suggests a kind of test run for his eventual turn as Bruce Wayne. Either way, “The Prestige” is one of Nolan’s most elegant and enjoyable pictures, and Bale’s outstanding performance is a magic trick all on its own.
“3:10 to Yuma”
Revisionist Westerns are almost more common than classic Westerns these days. In that regard, it’s tempting to view James Mangold’s handsome, arrestingly-old fashioned remake of the 1957 Delmer Daves vehicle “3:10 to Yuma” as a kind of beautifully-made analog throwback. The truth is that Mangold has been making these kinds of rousing, confidently assembled, old-school movies for a while now, and if “3:10 to Yuma” is occasionally more satisfying as a showcase for its talented principal ensemble than it is as a fully-realized work of drama, that’s just a testament to what great performances the director manages to get out of his cast. Russell Crowe proves once again what a formidable screen presence he can be when he’s given the right material, and bit players like Ben Foster, Vinessa Shaw, Luke Wilson and the late, great Peter Fonda make the absolute most with the time they’re given. Of course, “3:10 to Yuma” is also another stellar showcase for Bale, who plays hardhearted, ruthless-when-he-has-to-be rancher Dan Evans. Bale is, of course, at home in this genre – see Scott Cooper’s “Hostiles” for further proof of this claim. Unlike some of his other, more theatrical performances (“The Fighter” comes to mind, as does “The Big Short”), Bale resists the urge to go too big here. He’s as gloomy and serious as he’s ever been in “3:10,” creditably acclimating himself to the somber nature of Mangold’s movie. It’s certainly not one of the actor’s showiest performances, but it offers proof – as if any was needed – that Bale is just as adept acting as part of a star-studded ensemble as he is at leading the pack.
