Biopic Picks: My 10 Favorite Biographical Movies

For Tony

According to Webster's dictionary, a biopic is simply defined as "a biographical movie". The term biopic first became en vogue back in the early 90s: a clever little word-welding that encompasses the genre of film devoted to telling the true (or true-ish) story of a particular person or group. What exactly constitutes a true biopic is a point of debate. Is a portrait of a real person/group at one point in their lives a biopic? Or is a biopic a movie that captures the entire life of a real person/group? I believe a biopic can fall into either category, especially since most "portraits" contain at least a small amount of backstory on the character(s) examined.

I am writing this post for my dear friend Tony. Tony dislikes biopics. Though I of course respect the fact that we can peaceably have differing opinions, I have noticed that a lot of movies that I really enjoy can easily be called biopics. And Tony would miss them. And that makes baby Jesus cry.

OK, not really, but I was inspired to put together an in-depth listing of my favorite biopics. Tony has a great eye for art, and I think he would like these movies, so I felt it necessary to give these ten films a chance to present their cases.


10. La Vie En Rose (2007). Marion Cotillard as Edith Piaf: one of the greatest performances ever captured on celluloid. Stephen Holden of The New York Times said, "The most astonishing immersion of one performer into the body and soul of another ever encountered in a film." I can't top that summation, and I won't even try. But what often gets ignored in the (rightful) celebration of Cotillard's work here is the fact that this is just a damn fine movie. Director/co-writer Olivier Dahan uses an unconventional twist on the old life-told-in-flashback framework. Despite weaving back and forth to various points in Piaf's life, Dahan manages to create a fluid, entertaining, and moving portrait of a legendary artist. He even saves some key secrets for the last few minutes of the film, thus delivering an unexpected emotional wallop just before the final curtain. This technique works to great effect, as it challenges us to remember and restructure all that we've learned of Piaf in the last two hours. It's also a cunningly successful way to keep Piaf in our heads, thinking of her long after the final credit has rolled.

9. I Shot Andy Warhol (1996). This is the first entry on my list that could conceivably be called more "portrait" than "biopic", as it tends to focus mainly on one period of time in its subject's life. But the great work done here is so thorough and affecting, it inevitably leaves us with a very clear idea of what life has been like for Valerie Solanas (Lili Taylor). The whole film is driven by Taylor's fiery performance, ably supported by a crackerjack supporting cast (namely Stephen Dorff as transsexual Warhol muse Candy Darling) and an awesome script. Director Mary Harron's vision is unique and informative, and she makes some refreshingly bold choices in presenting her bizarre subject to the world. The film revolves around the events leading up to -- and the eventual -- (non-fatal) shooting of Andy Warhol in 1968. Militant feminist Solanas makes fruitless attempts to gain Warhol's attention and favor; finding herself snubbed, and armed with both a gun and her just-written SCUM (Society for the Cutting Up of Men) Manifesto, she shoots him. It's a thrilling, haunting, and highly original ride.

8. Boys Don't Cry (1999). Hilary Swank gives a groundbreaking, flawless performance as Brandon Teena, the transgendered teen that tragically insinuated himself into the fabric of a small Nebraska town, and Chloe Sevigny is equally astounding as Brandon's girlfriend Lana. These two young actresses succeed beautifully in inhabiting the complexities and turmoil of both their characters and the lowbrow society of which they are a part. Fearlessly written and directed by Kimberly Peirce, this film is dark, disturbing...and, most upsetting of all, true.

7. Gods and Monsters (1998). The final days of "Frankenstein" director James Whale make for fascinating film terrain in this much-lauded biopic by Bill Condon. Examining the finer points of Whale's relationships with his housekeeper (the ever-enjoyable Lynn Redgrave) and hunky gardener (Brendan Fraser), the whole production is dominated by the powerful work of Sir Ian McKellan as Whale. His performance is classic, thoughtful, and restrained in its commendable ability to make Whale into something more than a bitter old queen or an incorrigible letch. A lesser actor would've easily fallen into these traps, but McKellan transcends them with ease, thereby making his character -- as well as the movie of which he is the central figure -- a breathtaking lesson in grace.

6. Gandhi (1982). Richard Attenborough recreates the life of the Mahatma on an epic scale. Although this film is "big" and follows a pretty standard biopic formula, it is also devoted to the nuances, details, and yes, even the fallibilities, of its subject. Ben Kingsley shines in the title role, fleshing out his character with an uncanny accuracy; it's more a channeling than a mere performance. And c'mon, of course it's an epic. An epic man deserves no less.

5. Pollack (2000). Also adhering to typical biopic routine, "Pollack" works so amazingly well because of its two central actors. Ed Harris (who also directed) gives the performance of his career as the famed troubled artist, but it is Marcia Gay Harden, as Pollack's wife Lee Krasner, who walks away with the film. Also notable is Amy Madigan, playing the oddball, slightly icky art collector Peggy Guggenheim ("I have just climbed up and down five flights of stairs! I'M PEGGY GUGGENHEIM!"). The film is not without its flaws, though. For instance, I had problems with the rather abrupt ending and felt cheated out of what would've surely been a dynamite scene showing Lee Krasner learning of Pollack's death. But the problems are forgivable, because when you're watching actors doing what they love with such consummate ardor and skill, any slight can be overlooked.

4. Before Night Falls (2000). It's more than appropriate that a film showcasing the life of a poet should be poetry in and of itself. Director Julian Schnabel wraps his biography of Cuban poet/novelist Reinaldo Arenas in beautiful layers of art and metaphor, all the while allowing the soft baritone of Javier Bardem to float seductively throughout each and every emotion-laden moment. Bardem is incredible here and commands the screen with a masterful ease, breathing sparkling life into a truly fascinating character that the world largely, regrettably, ignored. This is both Arenas's swan song and enduring legacy, and the lyrical work of "Before Night Falls" is a testament to a life lived honestly, bravely, and, above all, passionately.

3. Out of Africa (1985). This is one of those rare movies I can watch over and over again and never get tired of. Yes, it's a big splashy Hollywood flick, complete with sweeping panoramic shots of the African landscape and two bona fide movie stars (my Meryl and Robert Redford). Yet "Out of Africa" is, at the same time, a thorough, intensive character study of a revolutionary woman and the men she loved. It does not for one second set out to make Streep's Isak Dinesen a saint, or Redford's Denys Finch-Hatton a romantic hero. It presents these figures in all their glorious, damaged light. And forever in my dreams, I will always hear Streep's Danish-tinged voice-over, "I had a farrrrrummmm in Ahhhfreeeekaaah, at zah foot of zah Ngong Hillllllllllz...."

2. Backbeat (1994). Though it chronicles the early days of The Beatles and their "lost member" Stuart Sutcliffe, "Backbeat" is a rollicking, fierce testament to the intricacies and complexities of romantic love. The music is, of course, wonderful, but it's the love triangle at the center of the film, between Sutcliffe (another tour-de-force by the yummy Stephen Dorff), Astrid (the luminous Sheryl Lee), and John Lennon (the utterly fantastic Ian Hart) that holds the sustaining power of the film. The movie spends a great deal of time erecting a meticulous house of cards, and then effectively knocks them down in one brutal, beautiful scene between Sutcliffe and Lennon. It's hard not to fall in love with "Backbeat" and Stuart Sutcliffe. In one scene, Astrid tells Lennon, "I love him." Lennon replies, "Don't we all?". I know I do.

1. Hilary & Jackie (1998). This is one of those rare movies where everything manages to come together with absolute perfection. The marriage of stunning performances, innovative direction, interesting subject matter, and crisp writing makes "Hilary & Jackie" my favorite biopic. It's the story of cellist Jacqueline duPre, and the complicated relationship she has with her sister Hilary. Emily Watson is dynamic and devastating as Jackie, and Rachel Griffiths is extraordinary as Hilary; their chemistry and connection is palpable in every scene (and their final scenes together are truly heartbreaking). What's worth noting is that while Watson clearly had the "showier" role, it's Griffiths who is ultimately the one who carries the emotional weight of the film with a quiet dignity. It's a tale of love, family, music, jealousy, devotion, and letting your sister fuck your husband...but you have to see the movie to understand how this last item comes to pass. This film is so brilliant to me because it presents an altogether new framework for presenting its true story. Instead of buying into biopic formula, or conceiving abstract approaches to story and characterization, director Anand Tucker does something entirely new. He devotes the first half of the film to Hilary and tells it from her point of view. Then, halfway through, he goes back to the beginning and tells the exact same story from Jackie's point of view. It's a risky method that succeeds astonishingly on all levels. There isn't a weak link anywhere in this entire movie. Hell, it's worth seeing just to hear duPre's now-classic version of Elgar's Cello Concerto.


Incidentally, all these movies are available on DVD. With that said, Hey Tone, when are we gonna pop some corn and settle in for a biopic-a-thon?