Sean Penn arrived in American movies fully formed and iron willed. Confident and charismatic from the start, he drew early comparisons with Robert DeNiro, his most significant influence as an actor. Unfortunately for Penn, he came of age when American cinema was in the doldrums. High concept movies, exemplified by Don Simpson and Jerry Bruckheimer, ruled the day and defined the era, while the “personal” auteur-driven films of the previous decade found fewer champions in a Hollywood underwritten by multi-national conglomerates. Still, Penn flourished in a way that seemed to be entirely self-generating, his intransigence apparent from his big-screen debut in Taps (1981). Penn stood out in a cast that included George C. Scott, Timothy Hutton (fresh from an Oscar win), and Tom Cruise in what was only his second movie. If Cruise went on to enjoy spectacular box office success, Penn, with his roiling complexity, was quickly regarded as the best actor of his generation. Pauline Kael singled him out as early as Bad Boys (1983): “Each time, Penn comes as a complete surprise.”
He had already demonstrated his range with an influential comedic turn in Fast Times at Ridgemont High (1982), a rare feat in itself for a heavyweight talent conscious of his place within a tradition of sullen but poetic American actors: Brando, Clift, and Dean. But what Penn the tragedian needed—great material, a Scorsese to his DeNiro—was simply not there. Instead he gravitated towards mavericks and mentors, befriending John Cassavetes, Marlon Brando, and Dennis Hopper, while conspiring to act opposite the previous generation’s best actors. One by one they all lined up, as though at a passing-out parade: Christopher Walken in At Close Range (1986), Robert Duvall in Colors (1988), DeNiro in We’re No Angels, and Pacino in Carlito’s Way (1993). And on each occasion Penn acquitted himself. The torch had been passed, and then he threatened to quit acting altogether in favour of directing.
But his absence only seemed to incite a clamour for his return. He began to work with directors deserving of his talent: De Palma, Fincher, Malick and Woody Allen. He was nominated for an Academy Award for his work in Dead Man Walking (1995), directed by his fellow actor-turned activist Tim Robbins. He received another nomination for his egotistical though oddly endearing jazz guitarist in Woody Allen’s Sweet and Lowdown (1999). Here Penn offered a rare instance of an actor dominating an Allen script without recourse to Allen’s mannerisms. He won his first Oscar for his performance in Mystic River (2003), where he was turbulent and vengeful, as well as tender. And then in Milk (2008), as the eponymous gay rights activist and politician, Penn reminded audiences that he could be light on his feet and no less sorrowful. In recent years acting has taken a back seat to his own activism and humanitarian aid work. But he “suited up” again for This Must Be the Place (2011) and Gangster Squad (2013), where he blazed brighter than the pyrotechnics.
—Mick McAloon
Running From The Reels 