In the numerous polls listing the best films of the '90s, Lars Von Trier's 1996 drama Breaking the Waves stands out as the critical favorite. It was the film that also earned British actress Emily Watson an Oscar nomination for best actress. Personally, I can honestly say that Breaking the Waves is the one '90s film I think about constantly.
Watson is the main reason behind my cinematic fascination. Her debut screen performance as the 19-year-old Scottish wife, Bess, a deeply religious woman who believes God will cure her paralyzed husband if she has sex with other men, continues to wrench my emotions. In church, while Bess is asking God for guidance, Watson's 19-year-old bride comes off saintly. Immediately after, when the film tosses Bess into an explicit sex act, it's clear she's destined for cruel martyrdom. Upon its release, some critics derided Breaking the Waves as "metaphysical hokum." For me, it was always Watson's performance that grounded Von Trier's outrageous melodrama.
Of course, Watson was somewhat of a mystery girl at the time. Now, four years and a handful of films later, Watson's profile has grown considerably. My past interviews with Watson were casual and haphazard. But earlier this year, at the Sundance Film Festival, Watson found herself surrounded with plenty of celebrity oomph. There were TV crews and crowds of paparazzi. Watson's simple clothes, conservative hairstyle and casual appearance didn't appear suited for starlet treatment. Basically, Watson came off too serious for the cover of People magazine.
"It always tickles me when actors or journalists meet me for the first time, and they think I'm going to be weird or strange," Watson says, laughing. "But that's acting, you see. That's what actors do. I've actually got a silly personality."
Breaking the Waves labeled Watson as an actress best suited for high drama. It's a status she's supported through numerous roles in serious films. That is, until veteran filmmaker Alan Rudolph cast Watson as a bumbling casino guard in his noirish comedy, Trixie. In Rudolph's comedy, Watson is finally given the opportunity to laugh. More importantly, she shows a knack for making audiences laugh, too.
In Trixie, Watson's casino guard confronts an unscrupulous state senator (Nick Nolte) in order to solve a murder case. Her malapropisms and gum-chomping antics are the best things about the film. It's a joy to watch Watson's comic potential shine.
"Trixie was a thrill for me," Watson says, speaking in a Park City, Utah, hotel room. "I'd like to sit and watch the film again. I'd like to just to sit in a movie theater and hear people laugh. I've never been in that position before."
Watson displays none of the standard trappings of luxury and success. She's not conventionally beautiful, at least by Hollywood standards. Yet, her plain features and quiet demeanor serve a purpose. Watson's lack of flash allows the spotlight to remain solely on her work. It's how a talented actress expects things to be. After all, shouldn't an actress be judged by her work?
Watson played legendary cellist Jacqueline du Pre in Hilary and Jackie. She was the former lover of Daniel Day Lewis' once-promising, ex-con fighter in The Boxer and a dutiful housewife in the family drama Metroland. All of these films continued to boost her profile. Watson's performance as the Irish mother for Frank McCourt's Depression-era family was the best thing about the film adaptation of Angela's Ashes. She even showed flashes of charm and a lovely singing voice in Tim Robbins' depression-era comedy, Cradle Will Rock. But none of these films can match the role-reversing turn Watson undertakes as the scatter-brained Trixie.
Like many critics, I constantly wrote about the "amazing" Emily Watson. It was impossible not to be moved by her quiet intensity. Sure, superlatives about Watson soon grew redundant, but she brought an emotional spark to every role that was undeniable. Now, with Trixie, Watson proves she can be compelling without being emotionally high-strung. She doesn't have to be an emotional martyr. Simply put, Watson knows how to be funny. Of all the cinematic moments this summer, both large and small, Watson's ability to play the buffoon is the most startling.
"Trixie is a comedy, but it's not like it's a romantic comedy," she says. "It's a crazy, kooky out there thing ... I'm lucky in that I've never gone off to play the girlfriend in a movie. I've had some really interesting material."
Still, my thoughts keep returning to Bess. I'm haunted by the moments in Breaking the Waves when Watson looks into the camera for a lingering close-up. It's during those scenes I feel as if Watson has shattered the wall between film and audience with a forceful blow.
Trixie is worlds apart from damaged characters like Jackie du Pre or Bess. But Watson is up to the challenge of delivering Trixie's malapropisms with deadpan timing. Ironically, Trixie might be the best testament to Watson's acting breadth. Her doofish performance confirms she knows how to play the clown.
Of course, there will be more films. Scripts will be read. Directors will be considered. Watson confirms that her decisions are based on the material itself. Her status can only improve. Watson has already done too much good work to lose her critical luster.
It's hard to imagine that there was a time when Watson was unknown. Actually, it's even more difficult to imagine that there was a time when Watson wasn't on screen. Her performances have become something to anticipate feverishly. Granted, she enjoyed a successful London stage career, including four years of work with the Royal Shakespeare Company, but movies are what ultimately cast Watson upon the world stage.
Now she has a cinematic track record and her profile continues to grow. Watson isn't so much the mystery girl anymore.
"I suppose I thought that maybe I should go and do some comedy," Watson says. "But in this business, you can't really have a plan. You just wait and see what gets thrown on your doormat. Then, you pick this up and say, yeah, I want to do this."
There was a time when Watson was afraid she would be typecast as Breaking the Waves' troubled wife. But a taste for comedy reveals variety as the new highlight of her work. There is no label large enough to hold her down. Trixie confirms Watson to be versatile, with range, depth and experience.
As a dramatic actress, Watson isn't supposed to be funny. It's exciting to watch her prove everyone wrong. ©
