Kirsten Dunst as Marion Davies in The Cat's Meow.
An out-of-character moment in the film-within-a-film.
Though an ensemble film filled with actors such as Edward Herrmann (as Hearst), Eddie Izzard (Chaplin), Joanna Lumley (writer Elinor Glyn), Jennifer Tilly (Parsons), and Cary Elwes (as Ince), it's up to then 19-year-old Dunst to steer the ship and serve as the film's moral compass. As Davies, she walks a fine tightrope, giving surprising dimension to a woman that history has written off as one of the original Hollywood gold diggers. Through her relationship with the much-older, married Hearst, Davies gained access to plum film roles, enjoyed fawning write-ups in his newspapers, and lacked for nothing. Yet, as Dunst displays in quicksilver shifts of character, she clearly had to work for her privileged life, playing lover, daughter, entertainer, mediator to an immensely powerful but temperamental and odd man.
Eddie Izzard as Charlie Chaplin gets close to Dunst.
No wonder she finds herself falling for Charlie Chaplin. Though hard to believe, off-screen, Chaplin was a ladies' man who married many times over. (And, it is worth pointing out, he looked nothing like the pancake-white, mustached characters he played.) As Chaplin, Eddie Izzard is all wit and confident charm, pursuing Davies aggressively and melting her resolve to remain faithful to Hearst. The two actors play off each other wonderfully, and in their scenes together, Dunst goes from icy and petulant, flirty and coquettish, then finally vulnerable and desperate as she begins to grasp the enormous consequences the dalliance could have on her life.
Working hard to keep up a jolly facade.
But in those 10 years, something has changed: she is no longer the apple-cheeked, perfect blond teenager of Bring it On. She looks more world-weary, less conventionally attractive, and even less distinctly American -- all the more to experiment with different films and slip into character roles. If we are to take her Cannes award for Best Actress in Lars von Trier's upcoming Melancholia as any sort of indication, her best work is still yet to come.
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