Has Ryan Gosling ever given an unconvincing acting performance? Here are 10+ times he objectively nailed it.
Need a 20-minute read to keep you occupied between the ‘SNL’ Papyrus sketch and seeing ‘Blade Runner 2049’ this weekend? Here are five movies that made me realize that Gos is good, and five other films that made me acknowledge that Gos is great.
You’ve probably seen… The Notebook (2004).
But have you seen… Blue Valentine (2010)?
When the cinematic adaptation of Nicholas Spark’s most popular novel graced the big screen and ABC Family’s film programming back in the mid-aughts, Ryan Gosling immediately became the celebrity crush of the sentimental moviegoing masses. His portrayal of a teenage Noah Calhoun trying to get the girl during a fateful summer exudes the kind of reckless affection reminiscent of a James Dean performance: he didn’t get dealt the right cards in life, but there’s a certain playfulness in his pursuit of romance that’s sure to win his crush — and audiences — over. Endangering himself by jumping onto a ferris wheel to ask out the girl of his dreams is an admirable effort only because Gosling plays Noah with an innocent — and delightfully self-deprecating — curiosity for intimacy, rather than a overly macho pride that appears to be compensating for a lack of sexual confidence. When Noah gets Allie, played radiantly by Rachel McAdams, to lie down in the middle of the street with him and watch the traffic light’s colors change, you’re bound to think it’s immature, ridiculous, and almost unbelievably cheesy. And yet, you can’t blame her for getting swept off her feet — or, later, when he insists that she GET IN THE WATER, you’ll probably find yourself urging Allie to keep taking a leap of faith — with her heart, HA! — and fight to nourish their once-in-a-lifetime romance. Teenage Noah’s charm is undeniable, but so is his capacity to care about others and take care of them. Recall the precious, quiet moment when Allie goes over to Noah’s house one night and sees him reading Whitman to his father. As Noah’s the obvious trouble-maker in his group of risk-taking but sincerely gentlemanlike friends, it’s no wonder that Allie is so touched by what she accidentally sees: a young man destined to become a great partner, a fantastic father, and a generous human being. Of course, she ends up not being wrong.
After his first break-up from Allie, his service in the Second World War, and the death of his father, adult Noah — now fully equipped with a beard and a seemingly permanent scowl — is a self-alienating, grumpy drunk who occupies his lonely life with meaningless hookups and the renovation of the big, previously abandoned house where he and Allie first made love. Of course, we know that he does all of that physical labor with Allie in mind, but it isn’t until Allie comes by and acknowledges that fact for herself that Noah finally releases tension in his brow and recognizes that there is still the possibility to rekindle their spark. Gosling allows Noah to have a transformative blossoming from lively teenager to learned young adult finally realizing his fullest potential, and this foundation is crucial for us to understand James Garner’s turn as the elderly Noah, who is still fighting for Allie: this time, to keep her memories of him and their life together alive for just a few more moments before it all evaporates.
In Blue Valentine, another film that jumps back and forth between the present and the past, Gosling plays Dean Pereira, who, like Noah Calhoun, is a working-class romantic at heart. But, unlike Noah, Dean’s vision of love, however intense it may appear in his mind, does not translate into effort or action. By the end of his several years of marriage to Michelle Williams’s Cindy, we are just as exasperated and exhausted by Dean’s behavior as the unhappy wife (who is also, quite apparently, the only real parent to their unplanned daughter Frankie). As most evidently showcased by a particular scene involving a ukelele, Dean’s display of affection comes in improvised and random flickers of goofiness and light-heartedness. But when it comes to having a successful marriage and raising a child together, we see just how much Dean lags behind, and how much he doesn’t want to improve or move forward. For him, every day that passes in his marriage to Cindy is an opportunity to get back to those first few days of perfect fun and infatuation; he refuses to see just how bad things have gotten in his family in favor of looking back to the past. Cindy, on the other hand, looks forward to a future of continually discovering who she is, what it means to be a mother, and what it means to grow together as partners in a relationship and in a marriage.
For Dean, the accomplishment of being a husband is that a marriage certificate exists with his and his spouse’s name on it; his job has already been completed as a father because his daughter looks like him and bears his last name. But Gosling never plays Dean to a stereotypical extent of negligent husband and subpar father to the point where we hate him; if anything, we pity him, because he just doesn’t get it, and we feel for him as well because it doesn’t look like anything will ignite in him to help him understand it. Perhaps the only rude awakening that could motivate him to change his ways would be a divorce, but by then, all will have been lost. Blue Valentine is a devastatingly raw showcase of how something with such a bright beginning can dim away so drastically over the years, and the scene that will really drive this point home and fuck you up involves a poorly planned anniversary outing to one very sleazy motel. This is Dean’s attempt at bringing back what had made them click together so well years ago, but what this fateful night will prove even more is that, even though he’s not a bad person, he is absolutely a bad partner, a bad parent, and a bad listener. In the end, you do hope that nothing bad will happen to a person like him, but you definitely wouldn’t want to have anything serious going on with a guy like that. Whereas Noah only became more prolific in putting the time, thought, and energy into his relationship with Allie over the years to make it work even better and happier, everything that Dean could have put into his marriage began to slowly decline right after those wedding bells rang.
You’ve probably seen… Crazy, Stupid, Love (2011).
But have you seen… Lars and The Real Girl (2007)?
I’d argue that not every actor can do what Ryan Gosling did in Crazy, Stupid, Love: play a character like Jacob Palmer so effortlessly and coolly and still somehow emerging by film’s end as the sweetest guy in a character-packed romantic comedy. Jacob’s got the smooth moves, style, and smile that can get him a different woman to come home with him every night, but the reason why he’s not a total douche-bag is because, after seeing Steve Carell’s super sad Cal sitting alone at the bar and monologuing about what led him to drinking alone in public so bitterly, a most unexpected friendship starts to form and grow. Jacob legitimately wants to help Cal, and he gives a hundred percent of his fashion resources and unapologetic feedback to a willing-to-learn older man who’s just trying to get his groove back — and, consequently, get over his impending divorce from his unsatisfied wife. We’d expect someone like Jacob to either ignore or make fun of someone like Cal if the two were to ever notice each other at a cocktail lounge; we become utterly impressed that Jacob, apparently the most selfless womanizer to have ever lived in the world of cinematic characters, treats Cal not like an inferior or a loser, but like a friend who just needs a helping hand in a specific aspect of his life.
Even more surprising is that Jacob ends up falling so spectacularly in love with Emma Stone’s Hannah — and they literally meet at the bar he frequented almost every night to pick up his one-night stand partners. This particular plot-line is so enjoyable because Gosling plays Jacob as the seemingly perfect guy who’s just insecure enough about two things to make him a fully-fleshed character and not just the poster boy for every modern playboy in TV and film: (1) I can totally bang, but I’m not capable of falling in love, and (2) women may want to sleep with me, but no one would ever want to fall in love with me, because what is there to fall in love with? When Hannah proves him wrong with both of those worries, it does not inflate Jacob’s ego; rather, it humanizes him more, making him more humble to the point where we see him in a wine shop asking Cal on the phone for serious relationship advice! Of course a formulaic romantic comedy would come full circle like this for Jacob’s character, but no part of Gosling’s performance seems contrived or even mawkish. It just feels right, and every good thing that happens to his character (and to the other characters because of his help!) feels deserved.
In Lars and the Real Girl, Ryan Gosling plays Lars Lindstrom, a mustached man whose severe shyness makes him nervous at even just the thought of close physical connection with another human being. At his office job, others are always encouraging for him to get out more and put himself out there, but after work, the socially awkward and extremely laconic Lars spends his nights alone in the dark. One day, a box is delivered to the house: Lars introduces to his family Bianca, a life-size love doll ordered from an adult website. She is, apparently, a missionary of Brazilian and Danish descent and is moved around on a wheelchair by the suddenly happy Lars, and his family members’ immediate reaction, unsurprisingly, is of concern for his mental health.
But, almost astonishingly and before you know it, his family, coworkers, and entire town end up treating Bianca not just like a welcomed new member of the community, but as a special person who has given Lars joy and purpose. We never even begin to believe that Lars is crazy because Gosling plays him so convincingly. You aren’t bothered or put off by Lars; in fact, you might even envy him for his ability to be so patient with his relationship with Bianca. We are so used to instant gratification from ordering and purchasing products: iPhones, automobiles, movies available to rent on Amazon, etc. But what’s so remarkable about Lars’s relationship with Bianca is the amount of care he puts into nurturing not just his romantic relationship with her, but also their budding friendship. It becomes increasingly evident throughout the film that Gosling endearingly plays Lars as a social outcast not because the character wants to be loved by someone (but hasn’t been able to find someone who could give that to him), but because he himself has so much affection to give, that it took bringing Bianca into his home to find that freedom to express such a bounty of tenderness and care. The film’s writing and direction never veer into a ridiculing tone throughout the whimsical story presented, and Gosling’s acting further brings a certain warmth to the plot that wraps up with a most gratifying conclusion. This is one of Gosling’s most hopeful performances that brings the lives of the fictional world’s characters closer together with a naturally-paced championing of sympathy, patience, and generosity.
You’ve probably seen… Drive (2011).
But have you seen… All Good Things (2010)?
Drive is a masterpiece that combines a suspenseful soundtrack with loud and proud aesthetics. Basically, the movie is a treat because it looks dope (even with minimal CGI effects), sounds great (I implore you to look up “A Real Hero” by College RIGHT NOW), and feels like a 100-minute thrill ride. Gosling plays the unnamed Driver who, by day, is a Hollywood stuntman and, by night, is paid to provide a getaway for those who perform heists and robberies. Both of his jobs require the simple act of driving his car (the most ubiquitous model driven around LA, apparently) and keeping himself largely anonymous and quiet. For most Hollywood blockbusters involving car chases, bloody altercations, and forbidden affairs, you’d think that a strong leading man would be fine but not totally necessary, because acting would fall secondary to action. But this is not the case with Drive, and even though there are plenty of curse words and gunshots and blood flying everywhere in this movie, I still remember Gosling’s performance first and foremost.
The Driver is a total mystery to the other characters and to us as an audience. We know nothing about his background, family, or professional history, but it doesn’t matter. Exposition is not necessary when the plot is driven by extremely specific events of the film’s present moment, and the writers and director have trusted us to figure out the Driver solely by his interactions with other characters and his decisions during instances of crisis. I found Gosling to be impressively memorable in this role because of his ability to play convincing transitions in one scene with one character to another moment with a different character; the changes in action and attitude are often 180 from each other (I am, of course, referring to that stunning scene in the elevator with him, Carey Mulligan’s Irene, and a silent man), but Gosling’s character still seems distinctly singular and nuanced. When a character subverts expectation or stereotype, the actor must be careful to make sure the change is not too jarring, lest it become not believable and prevents the audience from continuing to suspend their disbelief. Gosling’s Driver is always very much the Driver throughout — whatever that may mean to each individual audience member — and this helps to lend an overall cohesiveness to a film that does not spoon-feed to us a traditional cinematic style or way of storytelling.
Similarly, Gosling’s character in All Good Things is a complete enigma, but in a way less exciting and far more sinister and nerve-wrecking. I won’t allow myself to discuss this movie in tons of detail, other than to say that: (1) it is not a particularly good movie, and the only redeeming parts are Gosling and Kirsten Dunst’s acting performances, (2) it was inspired by Robert Durst’s life and the deaths of several people linked to him, and (3) it was admired by Durst himself, which ultimately led to his interviews used for The Jinx, which in turn prompted his eventual (confession?? and) arrest.
Okay, that was a lot to take in, I’m sure. But the same can be said for Gosling’s portrayal of David Marks, heir to a powerful NYC real estate tycoon who happened to own property on 42nd Street (and if you’re watching the fantastic HBO series The Deuce right now, you’d be right in assuming that this same tycoon owned property that was rented out to strip clubs and pornography stores). David’s father is insistent that his son take over the company, but the free-spirited David ends up marrying a working-class student named Katie (Dunst). They run away together to Vermont and open a quaint, unpretentious shop, seemingly destined to live a low-key life in the country. But David’s father ultimately proves too persuasive and unrelenting, and David is sucked back to Manhattan to work in the business. His marriage falls apart and ultimately ends with Katie’s disappearance. Remember how I told you that Gosling’s Dean in Blue Valentine is a pitifully unaware but ultimately not horrible person? David in All Good Things is definitely rotten to the core, but the key to Gosling’s performance is how his David went from loving, kind husband in Vermont to total monster with a closet full of (maybe actual) skeletons. The fall from grace portrayed is complicated, and every awful moment, whether it be his breaking of a chair in an outburst to forcing his wife to get an abortion (and then not being there with her during the procedure because he had to go to the city to do work for his asshole father), feels worse because it’s so far away from the character we thought David was going to be. The gradual but irreversible changes in his personality are subtly played, and I find it quite courageous for actors to really go there with their performances: letting themselves play the unglamorously dark villain, the kind of character that audiences truly fear because that kind of evil is not easy to point out in public, and most likely not that simple to capture in a manhunt.
You’ve probably seen… The Big Short (2015).
But have you seen… Half Nelson (2006)?
The Big Short is a fast-paced gem that combines the kind of exhilarating material I learned in my Money & Banking course at NYU with the kind of cavalier guest appearances from the likes of Selena Gomez with the kind of excellent ensemble work of some of the current best: Bale, Carell, Gosling, Melissa Leo, and the previously under-appreciated Finn Wittrock. Our cast of characters pretty much covers the entire spectrum of what people can be like during the best of times (bull markets) or the worst of times (bear — with me here as I throw in these econ terms HAHA). Gosling plays Jared Vennett (based on Greg Lippmann from Deutsche Bank) whose presence on screen at any given moment is either the voice of reason or an utter relief in a room full of suits in chaotic disagreement and urgency. From his snarky but informative introductions for other characters appearing in the film to his demonstration involving a tower of Jenga blocks in a board room, Jared is the most reliable person in the movie to be our much-needed narrator. And yet, Gosling’s character is never academically boring or condescendingly spewing out lecture-like speeches; he trusts us with the deets he’s giving to us, but also has faith that we can form our own opinions of how things went down.
When the time comes to criticize those responsible for the 2007 housing crisis, Gosling’s Jared does not hold back in deeming certain people as dishonest, power-hungry, and money-grubbing. But, of course, something this complex means that things cannot and should not be discussed in such a black and white manner. There is an interwoven worn-down tone throughout Jared’s narration, his understanding of Mark Burry’s concerning analysis and his attempts to get others to comprehend it, and his relationships with his Wall Street comrades as they travel all around the country in hopes to get to the bottom of things before shit hits the fan. But that attitude never becomes cynical or hopeless; there is still the insistence that people’s lives — in America and internationally — are at at stake, and most of these folks aren’t even aware that things are about to get very, very bad. While Jared is obviously on the side that’s fighting to warn the rest of the world of economic collapse, Gosling’s portrayal leaves room for audiences to become introspective as they witness this incredible story based on real lives, real people, and a real economic disaster that many are still reeling from: if you could either stop it or get a profit, would you really be so inclined to “do the right thing”? Most of us want to think we would be on the right side of history, but it’s frightening to think that many of us do not really know what our actions would have been if we were rating those bonds, selling those houses, or cashing those checks.
While The Big Short presents a story that is as global and universally relevant as a movie can possible be, Half Nelson is focused on a more more local, focused, and intimate story. The 2006 flick garnered Gosling his first Academy Award nomination for Best Actor. He plays Dan Dunne, a pretty damn good junior high school history teacher (despite rejecting the standard and traditionally-accepted curriculum) who sometimes loses his temper and has a cocaine addiction. After a basketball game one night, thirteen-year-old student and basketball team player Drey, played beautifully with a smart vulnerability by Shareeka Epps, catches her teacher and basketball coach Dan half-conscious and getting high in a locker room. He says sorry, and the rest of the film focuses on how Drey and Dan help each other, probably because the other’s all they’ve got. Dan is a mess, and so is his life; Drey’s situation at home is the kind where you can’t ever feel comfortable being yourself underneath your own roof. They become friends, but it’s tricky because, technically, he’s her teacher, and as much as he wants to be there for her as a mentor or teacher or friend or role model, he still has to figure out his own personal shit.
The student/coach, student/teacher, student/mentor relationship cliche can sometimes be rewarding, but only with the kind of big moments or grand gestures that we’ve all come to expect. I think of Robin Williams and Matt Damon in Good Will Hunting, or Kyle Chandler and everyone else in Friday Night Lights. This is a great movie and a fantastic TV series, respectively, but Half Nelson is something even more remarkable because, without plot points like a job offer at the NSA or a big states football championship game or a cross-country road trip to reunite with a lover, the story between Drey and Dan is an unembellished story about two people trying to get on by, having the opportunity to help someone else and him/herself simultaneously in the process, and hoping very much to do so without fucking everything up. They do not simply want to be there for each other; they need the other, and as scary as it can be to admit that, they decide that pride means very little when another person is counting on them. What forms by film’s end is the kind of unconventional friendship that surprises you with each passing moment: finding comfort in the company of another person where you as you are is more than enough because you two share a judgement-free zone. At the end of the day, all it takes is one person, one friendship, one apology.
You’ve probably seen… La La Land (2016).
But have you seen… The Believer (2001)?
Well, whatever praise I give for Gosling’s — and Emma Stone’s! —performance in La La Land will probably be something you’ve already heard since the film premiered last December. So, a performer can act, sing, and dance? All with sprezzatura? Earning several award nominations for said performance? Yeah, Gosling does a wonderful job with this role. His portrayal of Sebastian Wilder, a pianist and borderline preachy jazz enthusiast, is likable and passionate. For people that have problems with casting a white guy as an inspiring savior of jazz (I am one of those people, ha), you can’t really blame that on Gosling himself. But he does great work with the role (and, in my opinion, it’s even better than the impressive performance Miles Teller gave in the only other Chazelle film I’ve seen, Whiplash), and it’s fun to watch (fictional) people get excited about things and try to get other (fictional) people just as stoked! Name me another actor doing work right now who, in a role that combines Cary Grant’s self-assurance with Gene Wilder’s musical theater skills with the sad, longing looks that I had previously thought only Gregory Peck could convey, could pull off this line when his character is criticized for being an overly idealistic starving artist:
“Why do you say ‘romantic’ like it’s a dirty word?”
Ultimately, La La Land is an entertaining love story where the people in southern California apparently don’t mind the extreme heat and existential traffic conditions, and the city of show business is filled with bright colors, dance numbers on the streets, and people who are confident in what they want to be and are grateful for what they get to do. But (and here comes the one movie that pretty much inspired this entire post to begin with) La La Land is a largely inconsequential, overly pretty film compared to the ever more increasingly —and disturbingly — topical 2001 film The Believer. Gosling’s first starring role was as Daniel “Danny” Balint (based on a real person named Daniel Burros). Balint is a Jewish anti-Semite and an avid, fanatical member of the Neo-Nazi movement in New York City. As a child and adolescent, Balint was a brilliant but deeply troubled yeshiva student. As an adult now, Balint wrestles between his violent tendencies, his intellectual capacity for social and religious criticism, and whatever remaining empathy still resides within him.
What I found to be most unsettling about Gosling’s performance is that he made such people feel very real to me. When I was in school, I was taught that the Nazi party was long dead and gone. With performances like Gosling’s in The Believer, I began more and more to acknowledge that these movements are still alive, and they might be growing at an alarming rate, hidden in plain sight. It is the kind of realization that is discomforting to admit to myself and even more uncomfortable to bring up with other people, but to remain silent and complacent is even worse. Gosling was able to create a character involving three distinct parts: the part that still stands by the teachings learned in Jewish school, the part that hatefully rejects Judaism and Jewish people and culture and wants to burn it all to the ground, and the part that is not so much neutral as it is eruditely immersed in interpretation and lack of emotion. He was aged twenty-one during filming, and I am wholly impressed that Gosling was able to so believably play a kind of person that I had previously considered to be a walking contradiction; over time, like everyone else, I realize more and more that all humans are paradoxes, but some are conflicted with more extreme antipodes than others. In a starring role in one of the few films entirely concentrated on modern-day American anti-Semitism, Gosling is never unconvincing as a fascist New Yorker. In case you’ve forgotten, Gosling isn’t even American; he’s Canadian.
Honorable Mentions
- Gosling, a longtime and dependable leading man, has been a refreshing presence in Hollywood these past two decades. He takes on roles that require a high level of ambition, but he leaves eccentricity solely to his characters and has yet to go off the deep end with his public persona. I also love how humbled he is by his wife Eva Mendes and their two daughters, and how proud he is to be part of such a strong, beautiful family.
- I have not yet seen The Place Beyond the Pines (2012), but my friend Lorenzo highly recommends it.
- Let’s admit it: seeing Gosling break and crack up during SNL sketches is the best. Here are some of my favorites (other than the Papyrus font one and the alien close encounter ones) where he plays either weirdly erratic/ridiculous characters or the straight character in the presence of weirdly erratic/ridiculous characters:
- If you want further proof that Gosling is serious about his craft but doesn’t take himself too seriously, here you go:
- Gosling’s on Ellen today. WATCH.
