Liars and Saints

 The film critic Chris Ryan talks about a "heat check" performance: work done by an actor who gets only four or five minutes of screen time, but who steals the show. One example is Philip Seymour Hoffman, in "The Talented Mr. Ripley." It seems to me Maggie Smith does "heat check" work in "Richard III." This is something I recall in vivid detail, from high school. Smith is the Duchess of York, mother of Richard. She is upset because Richard has just murdered one of her other children. To some extent, she is responsible for this turn of events; after all, she is the parent. If she felt nothing for Richard, she might simply walk away. But--since she has some "family feeling" for her kid--she gives him the gift of her time. He won't listen, because he is a silver-tongued monster. And yet she asserts herself: Hear me a little, for I will never speak to you again. To war, take with you my most grievous curse. On Richmond's party my pr...

The writer Victor LaValle had an observation. "If the toughest character in your story is not an old lady who no longer gives a shit? Then I don't believe your story. Old ladies are the definition of badass." He was referring to that aura you get when you're no longer interested in impressing people. When excessive tact is no longer your calling card. I fondly remember an older teacher I was shadowing at the start of my career. I asked if I could observe a lesson and she wrote, bluntly, "No. Not today. I don't feel well." I'm certain that many, many other people would have just ushered me in, for fear of seeming rude--or at least would have written a lengthy, winding apology. I really admired that blunt dismissal. In "Tea with Dames," the lady past the point of Needy Caring is, of course, Maggie Smith. There's an Amy Bloom story where a character says, in an admiring way, "My friend has a lot of chien." I think that refe...