If Raising Arizona starred Ryan Gosling

So I finally did it last night: I showed my younger son my favorite movie of all time.

If you read this post, you'll remember I showed the whole family the first ten minutes of Raising Arizona on my birthday last year, almost exactly six months ago, though of course my wife had already seen it multiple times. (And congratulations to RA on its tenth tagging on my blog. Double digits baby!) 

The only one out of the two kids who showed any interest in a full viewing was my younger son, then 11, now 12. In fact, he had mentioned it again when the movie came up for other reasons, without me prodding him or forcing the issue for my own benefit. 

And in truth, maybe there was a little trepidation on my part about completing the full viewing. When you show someone your favorite of anything, you are exposing yourself to their ridicule if they inevitably don't like it as much as you do, though even if he hadn't liked it, my son is sensitive enough that he surely would have cushioned the blow. 

In fact, his response might have been a cushioning. I have no reason to think he didn't like it, but during the credits I did have to ask what he thought, without him volunteering it. He said he thought it was good, with that little uplift in your voice that suggests the statement is genuine, but maybe only to a certain extent. He did make some interesting follow-up comments, even an analysis about whether Leonard Smalls is supposed to be H.I. McDunnough in the future, given that they have the same tattoo. This led to a discussion of symbolism vs. realism in films, which is the sort of conversation I want to have with my kids about film, if they'll have it.

The other thing that caused me a little trepidation about the viewing is stupid. In linking back to one of the other times I tagged RA on this blog, I had been on a coincidental streak of watching my favorite movie almost exactly every four years, which had been pretty organic to that point. Left to my own devices, I might not have watched it again until 2028, as those four year stretches were aligned with presidential election and summer Olympics years. This viewing caused me to deviate from that, but really, I want any of my viewings to be organic and not to think too much about them. There was no point to wait another two years to show my son Raising Arizona, not when he had already asked about it more than once. 

The thing I thought was interesting enough to write about today, though, was what he asked me about Nicolas Cage very early in the movie, during the opening ten minutes he'd already seen, in one of the shots when H.I. is lying on his prison bunk, thinking about Ed. 

"Is that Ryan Gosling?" he asked.

At first I thought this was pretty funny, though my response did not illustrate that. Although I knew my son didn't know the exact year Raising Arizona was released, he had to know, just by looking at it, that it was not a recent movie. I said "No, Ryan Gosling would have been about five when this came out." (Actual age: six.) 

"Oh right because it came out in like 1980," he responded.

"1987," I said. Gosling himself was born in 1980.

But then I got to thinking how interesting it was that he had seen Gosling in a then 23-year-old Nicolas Cage. (And how weird it was, in retrospect, that the Coen brothers had seen it appropriate to case a 23-year-old in this role, considering H.I. has already served a half-dozen sentences and been paroled a half-dozen times. Wouldn't they at least want someone over 30? Holly Hunter is about six years older than him, so I guess they're both playing her age in this movie.)

Especially since he has become primarily a comedic actor, there's something about Gosling's physicality that indeed does recall a young Cage. Thinking particularly about films that required considerable physical comedy from him, such as The Nice Guys. 

Since my son had asked this question early enough in the movie, I started seeing Cage's performance through the lens of decisions I could see Gosling making as an actor. And this little bit in particular seemed like a perfect Gosling moment:

Can't you just see Gosling doing that?

I was, of course, inclined to do a modern recasting of Raising Arizona, though I suppose it wouldn't really be "modern." Although Cage seemed too young to play H.I., I don't think we want him being played by a 45-year-old Gosling either. 

But actually, if you look at Gosling in Project Hail Mary, he's still wiry and physical. And I think maybe the themes of Raising Arizona are more resonant with actors who are at least in their mid- to late-30s, who really are staring a childless existence in the face, and really can't afford to wait for any hypothetical medical breakthroughs that will allow them to conceive. At 45, Gosling can certainly play 37.

So let's do this. "Let's go get Nathan Jr.!"

Sorry. Let's recast Raising Arizona with Gosling in the lead. And let's be a little flexible with the ages. There's going to be a little "first thought best thought" here too. I can't sit here all day and think about this. 

So we start with H.I. obviously. I think these pictures are an even better indication of just how Gosling fits in this role. They both wear the Hawaiin shirt well, of course, even though my favorite clothing worn by Cage in RA is the shirt he wears during the lunch with Glen and Dot. I realize I've got to filibuster a bit here so that I can align the photos with the text. So this is me doing that. I think I've got it now. 

Ed could be played by Kathryn Hahn. She's actually a couple months older than I am, which means she's 52. But let's not tell Kathryn Hahn she can't play 37. She can do anything, so playing 37 certainly qualifies. These photos are not particularly flattering to either Hahn or Hunter, but I've chosen them to illustrate why I've cast Hahn here. We need an actress who can go big but is also capable of a genuine emotional connection with the audience, and I think that's Hahn. 

If looking for bounty hunter Leonard Smalls, our mind should automatically go to the physically largest presences we have out there. And so in this case I thought of Jason Momoa. I think the thing that makes Randall "Tex" Cobb so scary in this role is that we don't get even a whiff of sympathy from him as an actor; he makes a great evil incarnate. I do think it would be hard to ignore the jovial associations we have with Momoa, who has almost always played a good guy. But I think Momoa can do it. Let's not typecast him and limit what he can bring to the screen. 

Next up is Nathan Arizona. The huckster furniture salesman and bereft father is one of the movie's true comedic highlights, so we need someone pretty funny here too. I struggled with this one, and have no idea if I came up with the right answer. For some reason, Shea Whigham popped into my head and wouldn't leave. I don't actually know how well Whigham does comedy, because that's not how he's usually cast. But looking at how Trey Wilson was cast before RA, I'm not seeing comedies in there either. It could be a Leslie Nielsen thing, that once they discovered he could do comedy, there was no turning back. I can see that path for Whigham. 

The final four characters of note come in pairs, so let's look at them that way.

For jailbirds and bad influences Gale and Evelle Snoats, I'm thinking David Harbour and Michael Pitt. These are based on physical matches, of course, but I also think Harbour has the expansive personality necessary to step into John Goodman's shoes -- or rather, his muddy boots fresh from cutting into the sewer line. With Michael Pitt, I'm seeing the same baby face as William Forsythe, though I really have no idea if Pitt can be funny -- and I should say, traditionally he has not been a favorite of mine. Fortunately, he has less work to do in that regard than Harbour. Although my friends and I have some Evelle Snoats quotes we love -- "You hear that? We usin' code names" is one example -- the heavy lifting here is from the older brother, the alpha, Gale. So Harbour can carry the load and Pitt can follow his lead. Forsythe is the least essential of these actors in establishing RA's tone, and so I think Pitt can fill that role here. 

Lastly we get to Dot and Glen, the swingers, absentee parents and crass idiots played by future three-time Oscar winner and Joel Coen wife, Frances McDormand, and the lesser heralded Sam McMurray. And let's just finish off with a couple of SNL alums. We already know Kristen Wiig can do the high volume and wild gesticulations of McDormand's Dot. Jason Sudeikis hasn't in his career played as zany, generally, as McMurray is here, but there's something about the eminently more sympathetic Ted Lasso that shares DNA with Glen. Ted is obviously more intelligent and less selfish than Glen, but they both have a sort of bumpkin gregariousness that makes them appear less intelligent than they really are. (Yes, I think there's intelligence to Glen, in that he sees through H.I. and Ed's lies about how they acquired their infant boy.)

If you're curious about a previous time I did this exercise, check out this post on Glengarry Glen Ross. (Speaking of Glens.) 

And I only just now realized something truly astonishing:

That recasting post was also inspired by Ryan Gosling.

What the hell? I swear I didn't know.

But yes indeed, that post was inspired by seeing a similarity between Gosling and another actor about Nicolas Cage's age, Alec Baldwin. (Baldwin is six years older. I said "about.") Truly astonishing coincidence there.

Does this mean Ryan Gosling is the greatest cinematic chameleon of our era? Because I don't think of Cage and Baldwin as very similar at all. 

Probably not, but does it mean I love watching him?

Hells yes. 

Ryan Gosling looks like a young Alec Baldwin

You may recall I watched Glengarry Glen Ross last Saturday night in appreciation of Alan Arkin. Well, I had an observation from that viewing that had no place in my remembrance post for Arkin, and then I went out of town and forgot to write it up separately.

And I don't really need to tell you what that observation was because the subject of this post has done it for me. 

I didn't glean a lot from Glengarry that I hadn't on previous viewings, in the movie itself, but I do have a perspective on it that I wouldn't have had, at least not to the same extent, the last time I watched it in 2011.

In 2011, Ryan Gosling was still a relatively new presence in our lives. Oh his "breakout" role -- to the extent that you can call such an independent film a breakout -- was ten years earlier in The Believer, after which he started getting roles with some regularity. And I had definitely already seen a half-dozen of his movies by 2011. 

But maybe Ryan Gosling wasn't so ingrained in my head that seeing the merely 34-year-old Alec Baldwin in Glengarry was enough to remind me of him.

That version of Baldwin sure reminded me of Gosling this time, though.

I spent about three agonizing minutes -- and his one outstanding scene isn't much longer than that -- trying to figure out who this version of Baldwin reminded me of. It wouldn't have been an older actor, I figured, and when I realized it was someone younger I landed on Gosling relatively quickly.

Of course, I'm not the only one to make this observation. Although I created the side-by-side images above myself, the internet had some other ones to share as well if I hadn't wanted to do the work, such as this one:

The similarity here might be even more striking, but that's an even younger Baldwin, and besides, I wanted the Baldwin from Glengarry.

It isn't just the appearance, either, but the mannerisms. I could easily see Gosling doing that same bit Baldwin does where he mocks the salesmen, pretending he's them throwing back an invisible drink at a bar, complaining to anyone who would listen about how sales is a "tough racket." Gosling would nail that.

Naturally that got me thinking who else I would select if I were going to recast Glengarry Glen Ross with doppelgangers 30 years later.

Now, finding actual doppelgangers for Jack Lemmon, Al Pacino, Alan Arkin, Ed Harris, Kevin Spacey and Jonathan Pryce isn't going to be a cinch, so I think I'll go easy on myself and choose actors would look sort of similar, but also do similar things with their craft. And so as to not spend too much time on this post I won't agonize over my choices too much. 

I'll start with the easiest:

Ricky Roma - Oscar Isaac has felt like the heir apparent to Al Pacino throughout his career, so I'm not going to look any farther for my new Roma.

Shelley Levene - Possibly the inspiration for Gil the struggling salesman on The Simpsons, Shelley "The Machine" Levene is a little harder to cast because Jack Lemmon was a true original. However, the name that came to mind is Brian Cox. Now, without even seeing Succession I know that Cox has often played men who dominate or are very much self-actualized, which does not describe Shelley. But Cox could do Lemmon's profane rants and is certainly more than capable of playing desperate.

George Aaronow - Here's Arkin's character. I can't help but look for somebody tall and skinny with a bald head, and for some reason Matt Frewer keeps coming to mind. He may not work a ton these days but I think he could do the character's neurotic, doomsday energy.

Dave Moss - I couldn't think of a good match for Ed Harris so I cheated a little bit on this one, googling "Ed Harris lookalike." However, the photo result I got was a false positive that actually led me to my answer.  A photo came up for Harris and Viggo Mortensen appearing at a promotional event for the movie Appaloosa, which I haven't seen. I checked on IMDB and they don't play the same characters at different ages, or even related characters. (And I just realized they are also both in A History of Violence.) But I was surprised at how much alike they looked and I think Mortensen could equal Harris' intensity.

John Williamson - We don't want to spend any time thinking about Kevin Spacey these days, but for this exercise we're going to have to. Who's our best example today of a smarmy, menacing creep? It's probably not Jude Law, but for some reason that's the name I keep coming back to. Law likes to take on challenges and has a sinister quality to him that I think would work. 

James Lingk - The naive, gullible client who probably wanted to be Ricky Roma's best friend more than he wanted to buy real estate from him was played there by Jonathan Pryce. I'm having a real hard time thinking of someone to play this mousy and timid character. However, for some small similarity of appearance and the fact that they are both British, I am going with Jim Sturgess. Why not?

I hope no one makes this movie because it would be terrible.

Just Baldwin, please

Welcome to the second in my series of Oscar-related posts, leading up to Sunday's telecast.


This is how I think a typical conversation probably played out between two people, regarding who's hosting this year's Oscars:

"Did you hear? Alec Baldwin is hosting the Oscars!"

"Oh!"

"But so is Steve Martin."

"Oh."

Perhaps it's time for Steve Martin to get a TV show, because people I know are certainly not all that excited for the Steve Martin half of that equation. Having a TV show has worked wonders for Alec Baldwin, taking a reasonably popular film actor and turning him into the loveable cultural icon we know today. In fact, a TV show has even revived the dead-in-the-water (for nearly 20 years now) career of Martin's longtime compadre, Chevy Chase, turning him into someone possibly viable again.

Because viability is definitely what Steve Martin needs right now.

Like you, I was a big fan of Steve Martin back in the Man With Two Brains days, back in the Parenthood days (speaking of NBC TV shows), back in the Bowfinger days. But 21st century Steve Martin has left me wanting. 21st century Steve Martin is the Steve Martin who has been involved in two soulless franchises containing two movies apiece (Cheaper by the Dozen and The Pink Panther, though I should be fair and say I haven't seen any of those four movies). 21st century Steve Martin is the Steve Martin who has struck out when he's gone for a tone other than comedy (Novocaine, Shopgirl). 21st century Steve Martin is the Steve Martin whose other film after the year 2000 -- besides the six mentioned and the two mentioned in the next sentence -- is another brainless comedy (Bringing Down the House). The only two 21st century Steve Martin performances that are even worthy of hope are his supporting turn in Baby Mama, in which he was definitely the funniest part of a bad movie, and It's Complicated, which I have not seen but which looks kind of funny.

And this is who we want hosting our Oscars?

Don't get me wrong, I see the logic. Martin has not only done it before -- twice -- but he also probably appeals to middle America the way Jay Leno appeals to middle America. That's certainly not how Martin would see himself, but he's downright conservative compared to that hippie Alec Baldwin on that socialist, elitist 30 Rock program. Plus, Baldwin's a first-time Oscar host. The theory is probably that he needs someone to anchor him. Never mind that the two are undoubtedly friends, as both appeared in It's Complicated, and Martin had also guested on 30 Rock -- where he was quite funny, lending credence to the idea that he might benefit from a regular stint on the small screen.

But there's something else we're probably not considering. Baldwin probably needs him, not just because he's never hosted the show, but because his humor is necessarily interactive. When you look at funny people who have hosted the Oscars over the years -- Bob Hope, Billy Crystal, Jon Stewart, Chris Rock, Whoopi Goldberg, Dave Letterman, Martin himself -- they predominantly have a history in stand-up comedy. Which means they are accustomed to living (or dying) on stage all by themselves, without assistance from anyone else -- as much as they might sometimes need it.

Baldwin is different. Baldwin had always been a dramatic actor, who was always very funny when he hosted Saturday Night Live. (Though, to be fair, one of his first film roles was a comedic one in Beetlejuice). In fact, I can't think of another actor who so radically changed his/her career trajectory because he/she was so good on SNL. But that's Baldwin. He's never done a day of stand-up comedy in his life, and it shows in the kind of comedy he does now.

Quite simply, Baldwin needs someone to play off of. Does anyone think he'd be nearly as effective as he is on 30 Rock if he didn't have such terrific chemistry with Tina Fey? In fact, his chemistry with her is so good, almost all of his scenes are with Liz Lemon, with a little Kenneth or Tracy thrown in every once in awhile. I'd go further and venture to say that all his great SNL performances were a perfect synergy of his skills and the skills of whichever SNL cast members were featured prominently in those skits. Same probably goes for him and Meryl Streep in It's Complicated.

It's unclear how many scenes he shares with Martin in It's Complicated, since I haven't seen it, but let's hope they too have a great synergy that we'll see on Sunday night. I'll be grateful as hell for the Steve Martin half of that duo if he coaxes a classic performance out of Alec Baldwin.

And maybe, just maybe, that'll help me start to feel fondly about Martin again, too.