 had long hoped to play. Having 'stolen' it from his rival, Cooper has now been lambasted for so-called 'Jewface', because of his decision to augment his resemblance to Bernstein with a pointy – and from the looks of things, somewhat exaggerated – fake schnoz. Time was, any classical actor playing Shylock in The Merchant of Venice would have slapped on a putty nose – but that's in the same era when blackface was the norm for interpreting Othello. Times have changed. In the sensitive arena of crossing any ethnic boundary in casting, the one sure-fire way to cause trouble in playing Jewish roles has to be going straight in with a big nose. Helen Mirren caused a minor outcry over it, too, when she recently filmed another biopic under heavy prosthetics as Golda Meir, and caught flak from Maureen Lipman for doing so. Beyond the debate about casting Jews as Jews, gays as gays, and so on – a long way from being put to bed, all that – the Cooper snout poses a more routine quandary. Is a fake nose in films ever a good idea? Like accents, wigs and fat suits, it's one of those elements of a performance that's low-hanging fruit for critical derision. If it's bad, you can't see past it. Even if it's good, it feels slightly like cheating. But then, all acting is cheating, so why not use every tool available? The most infamous of all cinema's nasal prostheses wound up being an Oscar-winning one – but it was touch and go. When Nicole Kidman was cast as Virginia Woolf in The Hours (2002), everyone was nervous, according to the book's author, Michael Cunningham, about 'sabotaging her beauty' – especially Harvey Weinstein, who helped finance the film throug){kind=link}
The actor has come under fire for donning one in his new Leonard Bernstein biopic. But are prosthetic snouts in films ever a good idea?
Leonard Bernstein had “a nice, big nose”, according to his children, who have defended the prosthetic one Bradley Cooper is wearing in his new biopic, Maestro. Other observers have been less kind. Cooper, who isn’t Jewish, directed the film, as well as playing the legendary conductor – a role Jake Gyllenhaal (whose mother is Jewish) had long hoped to play.
Having “stolen” it from his rival, Cooper has now been lambasted for so-called “Jewface”, because of his decision to augment his resemblance to Bernstein with a pointy – and from the looks of things, somewhat exaggerated – fake schnoz.
Time was, any classical actor playing Shylock in The Merchant of Venice would have slapped on a putty nose – but that’s in the same era when blackface was the norm for interpreting Othello. Times have changed. In the sensitive arena of crossing any ethnic boundary in casting, the one sure-fire way to cause trouble in playing Jewish roles has to be going straight in with a big nose. Helen Mirren caused a minor outcry over it, too, when she recently filmed another biopic under heavy prosthetics as Golda Meir, and caught flak from Maureen Lipman for doing so.
Beyond the debate about casting Jews as Jews, gays as gays, and so on – a long way from being put to bed, all that – the Cooper snout poses a more routine quandary. Is a fake nose in films ever a good idea? Like accents, wigs and fat suits, it’s one of those elements of a performance that’s low-hanging fruit for critical derision. If it’s bad, you can’t see past it. Even if it’s good, it feels slightly like cheating. But then, all acting is cheating, so why not use every tool available?