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It was at the 2008 Venice Film Festival that Jennifer Lawrence — future Oscar winner, squirrel skinner, American warrior — sig-

naled that she was no ordinary starlet. She wasn’t yet famous then, just a paparazzi after-thought to Charlize theron, her co-star in “the Burning Plain,” one of those agonizingly dopey movies that play at major festivals because of their red-carpet power. During a pseudo-event for the movie, Ms. theron spoke about the limit-ed number of older actresses working in the in-dustry and showered praise on another co-star, Kim Basinger, who wasn’t there. Ms. Lawrence apparently silenced the room by joking that Ms. Basinger had died. the girl can’t help it!

What Ms. Lawrence then said was funnier and so blunt that only a journalist for the Brit-ish newspaper the Daily telegraph appears to have repeated it. “Working with Kim was one of the most amazing moments of my life,” Ms. Lawrence said. “She’s so focused and smart and nice — everything you don’t expect when you hear you’re going to be working with Kim Basinger.” Was that a ditzy gaffe or a sly, funny dig of the kind that once might have come out of

Judy Holliday? Or was Jennifer Lawrence just being Jennifer Lawrence, the best actress win-ner who tripped on her way to grab her Oscar for David O. Russell’s “Silver Linings Playbook” and then — in what was the perfect capper to the inanity of the awards season — flipped the bird at someone in the press room?

“Silver Linings Playbook” is the movie that turned me around on Ms. Lawrence, 23, trans-forming me from a skeptic into an appreciative admirer. Did she change, or did I? In the 1940 screwball comedy “the Philadelphia Story” Katharine Hepburn’s character says that “the time to make up your mind about people — is never.” that’s good advice, too, for film critics, whose trade calls on them to make judgments routinely after a single encounter with the ob-jects of their inquiry. One viewing of her star turn as an Ozarks scrapper in “Winter’s Bone,” the movie that prompted many to break out the word breakthrough at the 2010 Sundance Film Festival, hadn’t convinced me, and neither did her turn as the blue bombshell Mystique in the 2011 action film “X-Men: First Class.”

As tiffany, the randy widow turned danc-

26 AR THE NEW YORK TIMES, SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 23, 2014

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IT SEEMS LIKELY that Leonardo DiCapriowill not win an Oscar next Sunday for hisportrayal of the financial scam artist Jor-dan Belfort in “The Wolf of Wall Street.” Asa rule, Academy voters prefer displays ofsuffering and stoicism in the face of adver-sity from leading men. Jordan’s brief so-journ in a country-club prison hardly qual-ifies; nor do the ill effects of too manyquaaludes in the film’s most celebratedscene not involving cocaine and a prosti-tute’s rear end. And though Jordan givesup stock swindles for sales seminars, hecan hardly be said to undergo the kind ofredemption that the Academy likes to con-secrate.

Mr. DiCaprio, almost 40 and still able toplay guys in their 20s, underwent no greatphysical transformation for the role. Notricky accent was mastered, no distant his-torical personality brought to life. Thoughhe has been nominated three times before,he does not yet belong to the ranks of thesnubbed, the robbed or the overdue. If youwant to judge by technical accomplish-ment or emotional range, he might noteven be all that great an actor. But if theHegelian factions within the various Acad-emy branches were to assert themselves— at long last! — and bestow the award inrecognition of the Best (Male) Embodi-ment of the World Spirit at the CurrentStage of the Historical Dialectic, then Mr.DiCaprio would be an absolute lock.

Since the Oscars lag notoriously behindthe times, this philosophical insight willmost likely be realized, belatedly, in theform of a lifetime achievement awardsometime around 2050. By then, from ourlibertarian paradise or socialist utopia, wewill be able look back at the present era ofeconomic inequality and political polariza-tion with condescending nostalgia. At themoment, though, “The Wolf of Wall Street”might hit a little too close to home, and Mr.DiCaprio’s performance — an amoralwhirlwind of hedonism, guile and hard-sellseduction — has generated confusion aswell as admiration.

Already a series of reductively either-or,decidedly undialectical arguments haveerupted around the film. Does it glorifyJordan (an actual huckster with real-lifevictims whose memoir was the source ofTerence Winter’s screenplay) or condemnhim? Has the director, Martin Scorsese,composed a satire of financial-industryfrat-boy culture, with its crude materi-alism and pervasive misogyny, or a per-haps unwitting celebration of those sametendencies? A too-certain attachment toany single answer is a sure sign of havingmissed the point, which is that a clear mor-al perspective on what Jordan representsis, like an airline customer-service repre-sentative, unavailable at this time. If wedecide to hate Jordan in the end, that con-tempt will only be meaningful if we fall forhim first, and allow ourselves to succumbto the pleasure of being had, even at therisk of losing our self-respect.

It wouldn’t be the first time. Mr. Di-Caprio’s wolf does not stand alone. Look inthe mirror that Mr. DiCaprio and Mr. Scor-sese hold up, and you will see Jay Gatsbyand Howard Hughes (in Mr. Scorsese’s“The Aviator”), personifications of thecontradictory spirit of American wealth inearlier times — pitiable, admirable or des-picable depending on the angle from whichthey are viewed. You will also see J. EdgarHoover (in Clint Eastwood’s “J. Edgar”)and Calvin Candie (the plantation owner inQuentin Tarantino’s “Django Unchained”),roles that allowed Mr. DiCaprio’s winningsmile to curdle into a sneer of cold com-mand. All of these characters, repellent orsympathetic, humanized or caricatured,present various incarnations of power.They are rulers of men, masters of the uni-verse, kings of the world.

And who else could play them with suchease, such charm, such nonchalant refusalof the easy artifice of villainy? Right infront of our eyes. Mr. DiCaprio has beenusing his charisma, his unmistakable mov-ie-starness, to explore the iconographyand psychology of what we are lately in thehabit of calling the 1 percent. This is less amatter of humanizing the wealthy than ofputting a face — a handsome face — on theambivalence that capitalism continues toinspire. The very rich are either brimmingwith self-confidence or swimming in self-pity, while the rest of us bounce aroundamong intense and incompatible feelingsof envy, hero worship and resentment.Wouldn’t it be great to live the way theydo? Don’t we wish we had their confi-dence, their influence, their suits? Butshouldn’t they all be in jail?

Mr. DiCaprio is able to galvanize thesefeelings in part because his celebritymakes him both one of them and one of us,and also because of his specific screen his-tory. It is easy enough to pinpoint the mo-ment he made the transition from up-and-coming young actor to full-fledged globalmovie star. The year was 1997, the film was“Titanic,” and Mr. DiCaprio, still boyish inhis early 20s, proclaimed himself the kingof the world. His character, Jack Dawson,was nothing of the kind, of course, but hisscrappy refusal to play by the rules of arigidly hierarchical society was part of hisappeal, both for Kate Winslet’s Rose andfor the countless millions around the worldwho turned “Titanic” into a box office jug-gernaut.

Jack was a class warrior, locked in astruggle for Rose’s affection with an arro-gant top-drawer jerk played by Billy Zane,but he was not exactly a revolutionary. Hewas an eager, free-spirited individualist, aself-made man still in the making and, inthe end, a tragic victim of other men’sgreed and hubris and his own selfless no-bility. It was lost on nobody at the time thatthe grandiosity of “Titanic” mirrored thatof its namesake, and that this populist fa-

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That Sweet LambIn Wolf’s ClothingLeonardo DiCaprio’s dualityreflects our ambivalence.

ANDREW COOPER/MIRAMAX FILMS

WARNER BROS. PICTURES

ANDREW COOPER/WEINSTEIN COMPANY

ANDREW COOPER/ DREAMWORKS PICTURES

Above, Leonardo Di-Caprio as the stock trad-er Jordan Belfort in “TheWolf of Wall Street”; left,as Howard Hughes in“The Aviator.”

From top, other DiCaprioportraits of affluence: asJay Gatsby in Baz Luhr-mann’s “The Great Gats-by” and as Calvin Candiein Quentin Tarantino’s“Django Unchained. ”Right, as Frank AbagnaleJr. in Steven Spielberg’s“Catch Me if You Can.”

A gift forpersonifying theoften contradictoryspirit of Americanwealth.

CONTINUED ON PAGE 30

IT WAS AT THE 2008 Venice Film Festivalthat Jennifer Lawrence — future Oscarwinner, squirrel skinner, American warrior— signaled that she was no ordinary star-let. She wasn’t yet famous then, just a pa-parazzi afterthought to Charlize Theron,her co-star in “The Burning Plain,” one ofthose agonizingly dopey movies that playat major festivals because of their red-carpet power. During a pseudo-event forthe movie, Ms. Theron spoke about thelimited number of older actresses workingin the industry and showered praise on an-other co-star, Kim Basinger, who wasn’tthere. Ms. Lawrence apparently silencedthe room by joking that Ms. Basinger haddied. The girl can’t help it!

What Ms. Lawrence then said was funni-er and so blunt that only a journalist forthe British newspaper The Daily Tele-graph appears to have repeated it. “Work-ing with Kim was one of the most amazingmoments of my life,” Ms. Lawrence said.“She’s so focused and smart and nice —everything you don’t expect when youhear you’re going to be working with KimBasinger.” Was that a ditzy gaffe or a sly,funny dig of the kind that once might havecome out of Judy Holliday? Or was Jenni-fer Lawrence just being Jennifer Law-rence, the best actress winner who trippedon her way to grab her Oscar for David O.Russell’s “Silver Linings Playbook” andthen — in what was the perfect capper tothe inanity of the awards season — flippedthe bird at someone in the press room?

“Silver Linings Playbook” is the moviethat turned me around on Ms. Lawrence,23, transforming me from a skeptic into anappreciative admirer. Did she change, ordid I? In the 1940 screwball comedy “ThePhiladelphia Story” Katharine Hepburn’scharacter says that “the time to make upyour mind about people — is never.” That’sgood advice, too, for film critics, whosetrade calls on them to make judgmentsroutinely after a single encounter with theobjects of their inquiry. One viewing of herstar turn as an Ozarks scrapper in “Win-ter’s Bone,” the movie that promptedmany to break out the word breakthroughat the 2010 Sundance Film Festival, hadn’tconvinced me, and neither did her turn asthe blue bombshell Mystique in the 2011 ac-tion film “X-Men: First Class.”

As Tiffany, the randy widow turneddancing stalker in “Silver Linings,” Ms.Lawrence inhabited a deceptively trickyrole with such transparency that it felt as ifshe had collapsed the space between herand the character. Tiffany doesn’t makemuch story sense — she cajoles BradleyCooper’s character into partnering withher for a dance contest, though neither canreally dance — but Mr. Russell’s film is ir-resistible, and Ms. Lawrence’s perform-ance so likable, uninflected and emotional-ly believable that it makes the narrativecontrivances irrelevant. Like all of Ms.Lawrence’s signature characters, she can’tbe denied, whether chasing down Mr. Coo-per’s wreck in “Silver Linings” or landinga kiss on Amy Adams that feels like a suck-er punch in Mr. Russell’s latest, “AmericanHustle.”

In that film, Ms. Lawrence plays Rosa-lyn, the neglected wife of a con man(Christian Bale) who’s fallen for Ms. Ad-ams’s character. Ms. Lawrence doesn’thave all that much screen time, but she’s adominating, palpably physical presence,all thrusting bosom, scissoring hips, run-

ning mouth and towering, exploding hair.(She’s been nominated for best supportingactress.) It’s a delectable, juicy, surprisingperformance: You never know what Rosa-lyn wants, perhaps because Mr. Russellmay not either. But that makes the charac-ter a woozy, destabilizing delight in a filmthat makes a virtue out of chaos. And be-cause Mr. Russell likes working with wom-en as much as men, Rosalyn isn’t a prop orfetishized spectacle but the equal of hermale counterpart (Mr. Cooper).

When Rosalyn wobbles in heels, do wesee her or Ms. Lawrence, and does it mat-ter? In that wobble, you see a storm com-ing, as well as flickering reminders of JeanHarlow in “Dinner at Eight” and MarilynMonroe in “Some Like It Hot.” But youalso see one of those exciting, precariousrepresentations of life that the movies of-fer us. Yet while all actors act, stars givemore than performances: They deliveridentifiable, commodifiable personalitiesthat often blur the lines between their on-screen and off-screen worlds and the hardwork that goes into star creation. CaryGrant personified cinematic elegance, buthe also trained as an acrobat, which helps

MANOHLA DARGIS

Being Human Seems Enough

FRANÇOIS DUHAMEL/SONY-COLUMBIA PICTURES, VIA ASSOCIATED PRESS

At 23, Jennifer Lawrencestands out, as does her acting.

MURRAY CLOSE/LIONSGATE

JOJO WHILDEN/THE WEINSTEIN COMPANY

SEBASTIAN MLYNARSKI/ROADSIDE ATTRACTIONS

CHRIS PIZZELLO/ASSOCIATED PRESS

Jennifer Lawrence, from top, in “Ameri-can Hustle,” “The Hunger Games:Catching Fire,” with Bradley Cooper in“Silver Linings Playbook” and in “Win-ter’s Bone” from 2010.

Ms. Lawrence tripping last year on the way to collect her Oscar for her work in “Silver Linings.”


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ing stalker in “Silver Linings,” Ms. Lawrence inhabited a de-ceptively tricky role with such transparency that it felt as if she had collapsed the space between her and the character. tiffany doesn’t make much sto-ry sense — she cajoles Bradley Cooper’s character into part-nering with her for a dance con-test, though neither can really dance — but Mr. Russell’s film is irresistible, and Ms. Law-rence’s performance so likable, uninflected and emotionally be-lievable that it makes the nar-rative contrivances irrelevant. Like all of Ms. Lawrence’s sig-nature characters, she can’t be denied, whether chasing down Mr. Cooper’s wreck in “Silver Linings” or landing a kiss on Amy Adams that feels like a sucker punch in Mr. Russell’s latest, “American Hustle.”

In that film, Ms. Lawrence plays Rosalyn, the neglected wife of a con man (Christian Bale) who’s fallen for Ms. Ad-ams’s character. Ms. Law-rence doesn’t have all that much screen time, but she’s a dominating, palpably physical presence, all thrusting bosom, scissoring hips, running mouth and towering, exploding hair. (She’s been nominated for best supporting actress.) It’s a de-lectable, juicy, surprising per-formance: You never know what Rosalyn wants, perhaps because Mr. Russell may not either. But that makes the character a woozy, destabilizing delight in a film that makes a virtue out of cha-os. And because Mr. Russell likes working with women as much as men, Rosalyn isn’t a prop or fetishized spectacle but the equal of her male counterpart (Mr. Cooper).

When Rosalyn wobbles in heels, do we see her or Ms. Lawrence, and does it matter? In that wobble, you see a storm coming, as well as flick-ering reminders of Jean Harlow in “Dinner at Eight” and Marilyn Monroe in “Some Like It Hot.”

But you also see one of those exciting, precarious represen-tations of life that the movies offer us. Yet while all actors act, stars give more than per-formances: they deliver iden-tifiable, commodifiable per-sonalities that often blur the lines between their on-screen and off-screen worlds and the hard work that goes into star creation. Cary Grant personi-fied cinematic elegance, but he also trained as an acrobat, which helps explain his physi-cal grace even when he took a tumble. “Everybody wants to be Cary Grant,” he once fa-mously said. “Even I want to be Cary Grant.”

From Ms. Lawrence’s interviews, her off-screen mugging, photo bombing and Marty Feldman-caliber eye popping, she doesn’t appear especially interested in play-ing the star; being human seems enough for now. that isn’t as easy as it sounds giv-en how profoundly difficult it’s become for stars to have anything like a private life — to walk to a yoga class or pass out drunk in a friend’s car — without becoming fodder for tabloids and gossip sites. Some stars handle the lack of privacy disastrously, feeding the beast even as it eats them,

while others turn their lives into performances that they deliver one item at a time, as Angelina Jolie brilliantly does. Many just smile and repeat the same canned answers about how thrilling it was to work with this other famous person.

the only sister of two older brothers, Ms. Lawrence may come across like a natural, but her talent has been honed by almost a decade of experience as a working actor. At 14, while visiting New York, she was tapped by a model-ing scout. She showed up on television in shows like “Cold Case” (as the daughter of a murdered woman) and “Medium” (in one episode, she


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played half of a daughter-mother double ho-micide) and emerged unscathed from a bad sitcom, “the Bill Engvall Show.” In 2008, she added three movies to her résumé, including “the Burning Plain” and another forgettable title, “Garden Party.” More important, there was the leading role in an interesting mess, “the Poker House,” a brutal, autobiographi-cally inspired film from the actress turned di-rector Lori Petty about growing up in a home in which her mother turned tricks.

In playing the oldest of three daughters of a drug-and-drink-wasted prostitute, Ms. Law-rence slipped into a part that felt like a tem-plate for her roles in “Winter’s Bone” and “the Hunger Games”: the fresh-faced, life-hard-ened survivalist forced to be the parent for her younger siblings and their zonked-out mother. In “the Poker House,” she makes out with her mother’s pimp and waves around a gun, is raped and almost immediately plays in a championship basketball game. Although she looks as young as her 14-year-old character, Ms. Lawrence also projects the kind of native toughness in the face of large and small threats that makes the film’s agonies endurable. You have to wonder if this re-siliency is what Jodie Foster saw when she cast Ms. Lawrence in “the Beaver.”

By the time “the Beaver” was released, in May 2011, Ms. Lawrence had already been nominated for best actress for “Winter’s Bone” (losing to Natalie Portman) and cast as Kat-niss Everdeen in “the Hunger Games.” She was 21 when it was released, which seemed too old for a food-deprived 16-year-old described in the book as looking like 14. that Ms. Law-rence’s curves might be part of the marketing calculus to attract male viewers to a female-driven film — the studio was chasing what the industry calls four quadrants, or male, female, under and over 25 — didn’t cross my mind un-til later. I still think that she was miscast, but after repeat viewings and a landmark sequel, it’s impossible to imagine anyone else leading this revolution.

In January, “the Hunger Games: Catching Fire” broke a couple of records, first by overtak-ing “Iron Man 3” to become the highest domestic grosser of 2013. that same month, the writer and incisive industry observer Mark Harris noticed

that “Catching Fire” had reached an even more startling benchmark: It was the first movie with a lone female lead to top an annual box-office chart

since “the Exorcist” 40 years earlier. “Catching Fire” — and, by extension, the film series— had, by ending a four-decade run of male-driven sto-ries and romances, become a cultural touchstone that makes aesthetic objections beside the point. the franchise won’t force the necessary changes at the big studios, but its success should make it harder for industry suits and their media apolo-gists to dismiss movies about women.

Even so, entertainment media types con-tinue, with smiles and rank condescension, to label Ms. Lawrence “awkwardly charming” — a headline for a recent “today” show online item said she made the Golden Globes “more awesome, in her great goofy way” — which sug-gests how anomalous she registers, how con-fusing and unclassifiable she is amid the bland and the blond. Instructively, her fame isn’t am-plified or obscured by fashion magazines or the red carpet, where so many actresses keep up the appearance of stardom even as they’re de-nied sizable, serious major studio roles. She’s done her time posing and preening, playing the girlie girl, the paper doll and wide-eyed ingé-nue, but she’s also muscled onto the big screen alongside multimillion-dollar men like Robert Downey Jr. the odds still are not in her favor, but I’m betting on her to win. n


explain his physical grace even when hetook a tumble. “Everybody wants to beCary Grant,” he once famously said. “EvenI want to be Cary Grant.”

From Ms. Lawrence’s interviews, heroff-screen mugging, photo bombing andMarty Feldman-caliber eye popping, shedoesn’t appear especially interested inplaying the star; being human seemsenough for now. That isn’t as easy as itsounds given how profoundly difficult it’sbecome for stars to have anything like aprivate life — to walk to a yoga class orpass out drunk in a friend’s car — withoutbecoming fodder for tabloids and gossipsites. Some stars handle the lack of privacydisastrously, feeding the beast even as iteats them, while others turn their lives intoperformances that they deliver one item ata time, as Angelina Jolie brilliantly does.Many just smile and repeat the samecanned answers about how thrilling it wasto work with this other famous person.

The only sister of two older brothers,Ms. Lawrence may come across like a nat-ural, but her talent has been honed by al-most a decade of experience as a workingactor. At 14, while visiting New York, shewas tapped by a modeling scout. Sheshowed up on television in shows like“Cold Case” (as the daughter of a mur-dered woman) and “Medium” (in one epi-sode, she played half of a daughter-mother

double homicide) and emerged unscathedfrom a bad sitcom, “The Bill EngvallShow.” In 2008, she added three movies toher résumé, including “The BurningPlain” and another forgettable title, “Gar-den Party.” More important, there was theleading role in an interesting mess, “ThePoker House,” a brutal, autobiographicallyinspired film from the actress turned di-rector Lori Petty about growing up in ahome in which her mother turned tricks.

In playing the oldest of three daughtersof a drug-and-drink-wasted prostitute, Ms.Lawrence slipped into a part that felt like atemplate for her roles in “Winter’s Bone”and “The Hunger Games”: the fresh-faced, life-hardened survivalist forced tobe the parent for her younger siblings andtheir zonked-out mother. In “The PokerHouse,” she makes out with her mother’spimp and waves around a gun, is rapedand almost immediately plays in a champi-onship basketball game. Although shelooks as young as her 14-year-old charac-ter, Ms. Lawrence also projects the kind ofnative toughness in the face of large andsmall threats that makes the film’s agoniesendurable. You have to wonder if this resil-iency is what Jodie Foster saw when shecast Ms. Lawrence in “The Beaver.”

By the time “The Beaver” was released,in May 2011, Ms. Lawrence had alreadybeen nominated for best actress for “Win-ter’s Bone” (losing to Natalie Portman)and cast as Katniss Everdeen in “The Hun-ger Games.” She was 21 when it was re-leased, which seemed too old for a food-deprived 16-year-old described in the bookas looking like 14. That Ms. Lawrence’scurves might be part of the marketing cal-culus to attract male viewers to a female-driven film — the studio was chasing whatthe industry calls four quadrants, or male,female, under and over 25 — didn’t crossmy mind until later. I still think that shewas miscast, but after repeat viewings anda landmark sequel, it’s impossible to imag-ine anyone else leading this revolution.

In January, “The Hunger Games: Catch-ing Fire” broke a couple of records, first byovertaking “Iron Man 3” to become thehighest domestic grosser of 2013. Thatsame month, the writer and incisive in-dustry observer Mark Harris noticed that“Catching Fire” had reached an even morestartling benchmark: It was the first mov-ie with a lone female lead to top an annualbox-office chart since “The Exorcist” 40years earlier. “Catching Fire” — and, byextension, the film series— had, by endinga four-decade run of male-driven storiesand romances, become a cultural touch-stone that makes aesthetic objections be-side the point. The franchise won’t forcethe necessary changes at the big studios,but its success should make it harder forindustry suits and their media apologiststo dismiss movies about women.

Even so, entertainment media typescontinue, with smiles and rank condescen-sion, to label Ms. Lawrence “awkwardlycharming” — a headline for a recent “To-day” show online item said she made theGolden Globes “more awesome, in hergreat goofy way” — which suggests howanomalous she registers, how confusingand unclassifiable she is amid the blandand the blond. Instructively, her fame isn’tamplified or obscured by fashion maga-zines or the red carpet, where so many ac-tresses keep up the appearance of stardomeven as they’re denied sizable, serious ma-jor studio roles. She’s done her time posingand preening, playing the girlie girl, thepaper doll and wide-eyed ingénue, butshe’s also muscled onto the big screenalongside multimillion-dollar men likeRobert Downey Jr. The odds still are not inher favor, but I’m betting on her to win.


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DANNY FELD/TBS, VIA ASSOCIATED PRESS

From left, Skylar Gison-do, Jennifer Lawrence,Graham Patrick Martinand Bill Engvall in “TheBill Engvall Show.”

An identifiablepersonality thatblurs on-screen andoff-screen worlds.

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