|
WASHINGTON—Our
theory on The Roles of Hayden Christensen
goes something like this:
An
angry, misunderstood boy-on-the-verge-of-manhood seeks
respect and attention and has a fantastically affecting
crying scene along the way to his eventual enlightenment
and/or vindication.
Really,
this happens in virtually all his films—from the Goth
teen in “Life as a House” to a cub reporter in
“Shattered Glass” to his eventual turn to the dark side
in “Star Wars.” (And no one cries like Christensen. He’s
even the cover face on “Crying Men”, photographer Sam
Taylor-Wood’s book, which also features Jude Law, Ryan
Gosling and Ed Harris.)
We
explain this theory to the actor here at lunch, where
he’s just come from a panel discussion at MIT on quantum
teleportation—the basis for his latest film, “Jumper.”
“You’re
right,” he says of our theory. “There is an underlying
theme. I like characters that have an interesting
growth, when there’s change, and they’re affected by the
elements of the story. I’ve always believed that
conflict is the essence of drama.”
But now
the 26-year-old Canadian is breaking the formula; the
trembling man-child character is growing up. In the
recent thriller “Awake”, Christensen plays a rich
businessman who undergoes heart-transplant surgery, but
begins to suspect the doctors are trying to do him harm.
(Critics and moviegoers were not impressed.) In the
action movie “Jumper”, he plays the ultimate wayfarer, a
man who can teleport himself around the globe and
becomes a reluctant hero in a secret war.
If you
only know Christensen as the young, prescary-breathing
Darth Vader, here’s a little H.C. catchup class (we’re
kind of a fan, if you hadn’t guessed).
He
started acting at 7.
“I did a
few commercials. Growing up it was a means to get a day
off of school, and more money than you could earn with a
paper route, but at the same time I profusely denied it,
and —”
Denied
it?
“Yeah,
like if someone said they had seen me in a commercial,
I’d say, ‘What are you talking about? That wasn’t me.’ I
was playing competitive hockey, and the kids I was
hanging out with weren’t really the theater crowd.”
When he
was cast as Anakin Skywalker, the flawed Jedi knight,
suddenly being Hayden Christensen meant magazine cover
shoots, look-alike action figures—and your face on a bag
of chips.
“When it
happened, for a while I wouldn’t leave the house. I
mean, since my face was in every convenience store, that
meant everyone would recognize me and that’s really odd.
So I just sort of hermitized for a little while.”
In
between filming Star Wars Episodes II and III, he set
out to make “Shattered Glass”, about disgraced
New Republic
writer Stephen Glass, after reading about the scandal in
Vanity Fair. It was the first film produced by Forest
Park Pictures, the LA-based production company
Christensen runs with older brother Tove.
Christensen says he doesn’t spend much time in Los
Angeles. We learn that he, too, has a theory—on
celebrity.
“I think
that people’s exposure is in your realm of control. It’s
largely just a function of your choices, and if you
don’t want to be seen, they don’t see you.”
He
pauses.
“I think
I do an OK job of proving my theory. Sure, fame has its
affectation, but you can still lead the life you want to
lead. I’ve never had that fame motivation. The less
people know about me, the better my work will be,
because the more they know about me, then I’m less
believable as a character.”
Christensen contrasts his experience acting in “Jumper”,
directed by Doug Liman, with his experiences on the two
Star Wars directed by George Lucas, movies in which even
fans found him a tad, well, wooden.
“Doug...really wanted the actors’ insight into the
story, asking us to script meetings, which was a treat,
you know, how collaborative he was. It was really
satisfying.”
And
Lucas?
“George
came up to me on the set one day during my first Star
Wars and said something that I never fully understood
until after we were done filming. He said, ‘As an actor,
you have to think of yourself as a ditch digger.’
...What he was implying was that on his movie, I needed
to think of myself as a ditch digger, because it wasn’t
the proper arena for actual creative expression. This
was his thing. It was all very thought-out in his head,
and I needed to show up to make his wants a reality. And
so really, what he was saying to me, was: ‘Don’t let
this experience discourage you from what acting can
really be about, because that’s not what this is.’ I
just wish I would’ve figured that out a little sooner.”
Christensen recently bought a 19th-century farm south of
Toronto, so he can finally move the things he’s been
storing at mom and dad’s. We ask if he kept that
rat-tail Jedi braid.
“I did!
Only because it was my first Star Wars, and I wanted to
keep as much as I could. I got a light saber, of course,
and then I had to keep my boots. I keep all my
characters’ shoes, actually.”
Shoes?
“Yeah,
it’s sort of the first bit of my character that I sort
of decide on, while I’m figuring them out. Because
that’s what grounds me and it informs how I walk and how
I feel on my feet.”
We ask
about “Virgin Territory”, a
period piece based on the 14th-century Italian classic
“The Decameron”, which Christensen filmed in Florence
with Mischa Barton. It’s a comedy. With no release date.
Hayden
stops midslurp from his bowl of steaming chicken noodle.
“You
know about that one? Damn. I’m not sure what they’re
calling it now and it’s hard to speak to, because I
haven’t seen the film in its current state and I haven’t
heard boo from the people who made it. That stuff always
shocks me. How people can be so flippant with money. And
that for me was a real departure. It’s a comedy, you
know, which I’ve never done.”
Oh, we
know. |
