Watch: The History Behind Method Acting: A Video Essay

Watch: The History Behind Method Acting: A Video Essay

Forget Joaquin Phoenix. Forget Charlize Theron. Forget Christian Bale. Forget Daniel Day-Lewis. Forget Heath Ledger. Forget Jack Nicholson. Forget Philip Seymour Hoffman. Forget Robert DeNiro. Forget Cate Blanchett. Forget Tilda Swinton. Forget Meryl Streep. Forget Glenn Close. These are all actors who, at one time or another, have "disappeared" inside their roles. This sort of disappearance owes its existence in the present day to the early work of Marlon Brando and James Dean, in films like ‘A Streetcar Named Desire,’ ‘On the Waterfront,’ ‘The Wild One,’ ‘Giant,’ and ‘Rebel Without a Cause.’ Without this standard, as it were, the performances mentioned up top might not have taken place, because we would not have realized the potential of method acting to transform the screen. This nearly 30-minute video essay by FilmmakerIQ does a wonderful job of taking us through the developments (starting in ancient Greece!) that led to method acting and explaining its principles as laid out by Constantin Stanislavski. We also get, of course, a sampling of great method performances by Brando, James Dean, and others–as well as a glimpse inside the minds of Stella Adler, Lee Strasberg and other method proponents.

Watch: The Gangster Face in 50 Movies: A Compilation

Watch: The Gangster Face in 50 Movies: A Compilation

What is it about the gangster face? Not so long ago, we ran an excellent video essay by Nelson Carvajal that celebrated the brash, tough, hypnotic, quintessentially macho quality of "gangster culture" in film. Now, Jorge Luengo has posted a piece digging into similar territory but with a narrower focus: the face. The alternately calm and monstrous face of Robert DeNiro’s Al Capone in The Untouchables. Or his affable but menacing face as James Conway in Goodfellas. Or… the grizzled visage of Jack Nicholson as Frank Costello in The Departed. Or the near-theatrically sad, almost noble face of Marlon Brando’s Don Vito Corleone in The Godfather. Or Al Pacino’s twitching, ever-animate countenance as Tony Montana in Scarface. Or, reaching back a little, Warren Beatty’s handsome Clyde Barrow in Bonnie and Clyde. Or James Cagney’s craggy Rocky Sullivan in Angels with Dirty Faces. Strung together with the ubiquitous "Little Green Bag" song from Reservoir Dogs, this piece truly makes one reflect on the face of the gangster, in every sense of that phrase. So what is it, I ask again, that’s so fascinating here? Is it the fact that we can’t be entirely certain what lies beneath that face? Or is it that the gangster isn’t sure either?