A couple of weeks ago, I was watching Jessica Fletcher on "Murder, She Wrote" help a boy fix his bicycle and thought, "Son of a gun, that wooden kid is going to become the greatest actor of his generation."
The kid was Joaquin Phoenix, back in 1984 (he turns 46 this month). Like most of the kids in his family, he was a child actor (his big brother, the late River Phoenix, preceded him, and his sister Summer was in that same "Murder, She Wrote" scene), but it took quite a while for him to reveal the breadth he was capable of.
Early on, Phoenix was typecast as mumbly dopes. He played quite a few of them, including in big hits such as "Parenthood," when he was still billed as Leaf Phoenix, a pseudonym he adopted for a while. That peaked in "To Die For," a part he snatched from the fingers of Matt Damon and played so indelibly that Hollywood figured he couldn't do anything but stoned doofuses.
"Gladiator" changed that in 2001. Phoenix earned his first of four Oscar nominations by 180-ing in Ridley Scott's adventure film, playing a snarlingly cruel despot who seemed to derive sexual pleasure from torturing the title character, played by Russell Crowe. It's one of those performances, like Awkwafina in "The Farewell" or Halle Berry in "Jungle Fever," that makes you think, "Wait. They can do that?"
The reason why Phoenix has vaulted to the top of the acting game is that he keeps doing that. He has hooked up with many of our most innovative directors, both big names (Spike Jonze for "Her," M. Night Shyamalan for "The Village" and "Signs," Paul Thomas Anderson for "The Master") and names that should be big (Lynne Ramsay for "You Were Never Really Here," Mike Mills for the upcoming "C'mon, C'mon").
Phoenix works a lot, so he occasionally errs (he made "Irrational Man" with Woody Allen long after that was a questionable choice) but it's fascinating to watch him flip from micro-budget projects like Gus Van Sant's "Don't Worry, He Won't Get Far on Foot" and Jacques Audiard's innovative "The Sisters Brothers" to mainstream stuff like the John Travolta adventure "Ladder 49" or the Shyamalan movies, where be brings danger and weirdness to projects that might seem bland without his twitchy energy.
Winning an Oscar, as Phoenix did for "Joker" this year, opens up tons of possibilities for an actor. Phoenix undoubtedly has his choice of the best scripts that Hollywood — or, given his affinity for non-Hollywood directors such as Ramsay and Audiard, the world — has to offer. Besides "C'mon," he has a "Joker" sequel lined up, but I can't wait to find out what the actor who never stops surprising us does after that.
Joker (2019)
It's rare for a big-name actor to venture outside of their comfort zone, but Phoenix seems to live there. I can't think of another performer whose work I've been watching for four decades who could have produced this bold, frightening and oddly sympathetic work, seemingly out of nowhere (particularly since the movie is muddled, so he may not have gotten much help from director Todd Phillips). Phoenix is like a raw nerve ending as a damaged supervillain whose mental illness makes him uncomfortably easy to relate to.