Playing quirky but lovable sidekick “Frog” (Rothschild Jr.)
on Best of the West was veteran
character actor Tracey Walter. It was he
who confided the mantra of, I imagine, all actors who are continually cast in
similar roles when he said,
“I would rather be ‘type’ cast that not cast at all.”
To me – though apparently not Wikipedia, which has cast him in darkly malevolent hues – Tracey Walter
was comedically oddball, while charmingly vulnerable. “Charmingly vulnerable” sets him apart in the
“Subservient” cohort, allowing him to steal scenes so easily, producers were
regularly called to the set, to “put out fires” with exasperated co-stars.
“He is deliberately speaking too slowly.”
“I am just bein’………… maself.”
Tracey Walter is a unique standout in his “Type Casting” category.
But it is a category he can never escape.
Tracey plays “Ahnolt’s” sidekick in Conan the Destroyer. I doubt
if there was ever consideration of the two switching roles.
AHNOLT: “I don’t do ‘wimpy.’”
TRACEY: “And I
don’t do ‘Teutonic Pinhead.’”
That’s “Type Casting.”
In both directions. Unequally rewarding,
but only because our culture prefers heroes to hopeless nebbishes doused with
the contents of “chamber pots.” (Fictional
Footnote: It is the exact opposite
in “Chelm.”)
Anyway – and here’s where I’m going, meaning to go there months ago but I forgot –
“Type casting” is everywhere.
And, Tracey’s Walter’s bolstering remark notwithstanding, it
is not necessarily a good thing.
Case in Point:
Aaron Sorkin and To
Kill A Mockingbird.
(Note: I do
not know Aaron Sorkin, though I admit to watching A Few Good Men every time it appears. And that West
Wing wasn’t bad either.)
Aaron Sorkin is a really good writer. (Not as simple as me, be everyone’s style is
different.)
Sorkin accepted the challenge of adapting Harper Lee’s classic
To Kill A Mockingbird for the
Broadway stage. It was a brave thing to
attempt. (Extraneous Side-Note:
If they had asked me, I’d have said, “Let’s leave it a book.”)
The onstage version of Mockingbird
is a commercial success. (It does not
hurt to have Jeff Daniels attached, starring as Atticus Finch.) Based on his track record – though I have not
seen the show personally – I have no trouble believing that Aaron Sorkin did a
swell job on the theatrical adaptation.
And yet…
When the Tony Awards
nominations were announced last spring, Aaron Sorkin was not nominated in the
category of “Best Play.” (Meaning “Best
Playwright.”)
The “Premier” writer in movies.
“Sorry. Not
nominated.”
That’s strange, isn’t it?
Sorkin’s snappy style, so memorably quotable: “You can’t handle the truth!” “I believe I have a Rose Garden.” “We are sitting on chairs! (My all-time favorite from The Social Network.)
Who did Aaron Sorkin piss off?
Maybe – eschewing “envious pettiness” as a possible
explanation for the slight because when has that
ever happened in the theater before? – maybe, in fact, it was nobody.
Maybe the Tony
nominating committee simply “tired of his act.”
“Sparkling dialogue, again?”
“People don’t talk like that, unless they’re in Mensa.
“They sure don’t talk like that in Alabama, I can tell you right now!”
Without direct experience of this work, I am thinking, maybe Aaron Sorkin has stayed
stylistically “too long at the fair.” Or
maybe, although trying his best to write “country”, a little signature
“smarty-pants” may have slipped in, signaling the “Death Knell” reaction, “Ah
smell a No’therer.”
And there were vote-tipping “Southern Folk” on the
committee.
I don’t know.
But I do know this.
No one escapes.
Everyone’s ultimately, inevitably, and inexorably “Type Cast.”
When the work coincides with your “Sweet Spot”, you score.
And when it doesn’t, well…
“A pig may find truffles, but don’t ask him to hunt.”
As I have just proved with that analogy.