Hidden Flick: Being Jeremy Davies

When encountered in Twister, Davies is amongst many who appear in the cast: they are strange, reality-tweaked storm chasers, and their idea of fun is researching the effects of a tornado from as close a distance as possible. And in many respects, that is what it is like when viewing Davies’ films: imagery gets more and more freaky whirlwind dangerous.

When encountered in Saving Private Ryan, Davies plays a journalist turned soldier, who never loses his insatiable curiosity about what is going on around him. Directed by Steven Spielberg, Davies looks a hell of lot like a grown up Elliott from E.T., and it is like the role portrayed by the young actor shows the flipside of that child’s existence. Indeed, Davies is walking in his own Season in Hell, and Elliott will no longer remember what it was like to hug an alien before he warp-sped back to Potted-Plant Town.

When encountered in Secretary, he is far too normal to partake in the odd sadomasochism at play with his “girlfriend,” and her boss, played by Maggie Gyllenhaal and James Spader, respectfully. [a) Is there non-odd S&M?, c) has James Spader ever played a sane person?, and b) probably just me, but Gyllenhaal look scared out of her little mind when Ledger as the Joker shoved the blade in her face in the Dark Knight.] Davies, in only nine minutes-plus of the poshed-out film, nails down the scene-stealing heartbroken boyfriend role in yet another oft-kilter performance. Yeah, mama, spice up your life.

When encountered in Solaris, playing Snow, one forgot about the planet below as an ocean of consciousness, and just swam in the waters of weirdness with some of the most brilliant and hesitant lines ever uttered—Davies in his supremely eccentric prime: “He attacked me. There I am – somehow, there I am – and I couldn’t tell you… couldn’t tell you how I’m there or who I am or what’s going on. But before I can get to that, what’s this over here – coming at me? What… what are you trying to do? Oh, I see, you’re trying to kill me. Yeah confuse me. I’ll tell you about some confusing. How about bingo, there you are. And, whoop, there’s my welcoming committee, and you dropped your knife and this is a good night. And, oh, by the way, uh, after all that, I find out, this, uh… whoever this is… get my first good look in, and it happens to be… I survived the first thirty seconds of this life… whatever you want to call it… by killing someone. And, oh, ah, by killing someone who happens to be me. See most people, I would think most people in this position would be like, ‘This… Ah, hmm… I don’t know.’ However, this is at least, this is an incredible opportunity. This is a… what if this is a… this is a gift? I’m a gift. Hey.”

When encountered in a series of indie films from the Bono-inspired Wim Wenders film, The Million Dollar Hotel, where Davies plays the mentally-challenged narrator, to Teknolust, where Davies plays an awkward lad who befriends and seduces a clone, played by Tilda Swinton (a name to remember for later), to a duo of Lars von Triers (a name to remember for later) films, Dogville and Manderlay, where the actor is in tune with his strange environment, works within its eccentric dimensions, but faces reality issues, as always, to Investigating Sex where a lot of B-list actors sit and stand and ruminate and out and out bullshit about sex and all its sordid and salacious nuances, but Davies twists his role with the right hip shite factor to tweak the pretentious premise.

When encountered in television’s monument to all that is time-damaged, space-violated, dimension-trashed, and just plain awe-inspired, LOST, Davies hits his stride as the theoretical physicist, worrisome genius, time-traveling guru, long-haired freak, and cosmic misfit, Professor Daniel Faraday, who can determine WHEN they are, but not WHO they are. Yeah. Right there. Whoop. An incredible opportunity. It’s a gift. Hey.

Brakes. Film reel stops…just like punk, ‘cept it’s cinematic.

And, man, after struggling with how to define Jeremy Davies, one looks at the film career of the late Heath Ledger, and sees that same dilemma. Are these actors pondering metaphysical questions, or are they just human beings looking for answers by playing a part to feel more normal? What the fuck is normal, anyway? Perhaps, AN answer is found within a quotation from Davies’ father, noted children’s book author, Mel Boring when he said, “There is much in adult media that fails to exercise imagination and thus threatens to ‘obsolesce’ it. Imaginative children’s books can deliver a child’s imagination intact into their adult self. For me, this has made writing children’s books a pretty serious business. But fortunately, humor is one of the tools I have found most useful. It keeps us from the opposite extreme that also smothers imagination: taking life too seriously.”

What the fuck IS life, anyway? Did Ledger have an answer? Reach for the pearl too soon? Syd Barrett in disguise—a madman posing as a genius? Ahhh…that dirty old question…questioned and beaten up and tossed about in our next go-around as we gaze upon the latest masterpiece, a late-career, much-needed comeback by another curious soul and friend to the weird: Terry Gilliam, in the next edition of Hidden Flick.

– Randy Ray