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Biography
He was born Kevin Fowler on the 26th of July, 1959, in South Orange, New Jersey, not far from Newark airport. He was the youngest of three children. His father, Thomas, was a technical procedure writer, his mother, Kathleen, a personal secretary. Thomas's work being irregular, the family moved all over the States and Kevin, a bright child forced to prove himself over and over again, grew close to uncontrollable. Eventually, having settled in Southern California, his behaviour became too much. After burning down his sister's tree-house, he was packed off to Northridge Military Academy. It changed nothing in this smart but unruly child. Kevin won a Leadership Award, but was then expelled when, at a boxing match, he flung a tire at a schoolmate's head. In an odd twist on the norm, being thrown out of the military proved to be the making of him. Enrolling at Chatsworth High School in the San Fernando Valley, he was encouraged by a Guidance Counsellor to channel his hitherto misspent energies into acting - Chatsworth being something of a breeding ground for Hollywood stars. Kevin already had a deep knowledge of cinematic history from constantly sneaking downstairs in the night to watch old movies on TV (and he remembers ALL of them). Thus he'd received his education at the feet of masters like Bogart, Henry Fonda and Spencer Tracy. It's often been said he created the name
Spacey by squeezing Spencer into Tracy - in fact, it's from his mother's
side of the family. This education continued throughout his school years
as, along with his mates, he'd play truant to attend revival screenings
at the NuArt cinema. A natural mimic, Spacey quickly perfected
impressions of the likes of James Stewart and Johnny Carson. Indeed, as
a precocious teen he'd attend comedy clubs to watch the likes of Robin
Williams and Jay Leno, then perform himself on amateur nights (he
also played bowling alleys). Next came The Seagull and a period, in 1986, performing Sleuth in a New Jersey dinner theatre. Spacey recalls these times as peculiarly hard. He spent his free time, he says, avoiding his landlady and gathering cans in a shopping trolley. Convinced of his own excellence and horribly frustrated by his lack of progress, he says he could not sleep for obsessing over his career. Spacey must have been a real pain, for
himself and others. In his hilarious book With Nails, Richard E. Grant
recalled the shooting of Henry And June (released in 1990 and concerning
Henry Miller's sexual escapades in Paris), describing Spacey as being
"on a rant because he didn't get any close-ups", adding, on
Spacey's desperation to rise to prominence, "His will-it-be-me?
kvetch receives scant support from me". The show was heavily criticized on
Broadway, but brought standing ovations when it switched to London's
Theatre Royal at Haymarket (it was directed, coincidentally, by Jonathan
Miller who, as Spacey would later, has served as artistic director of
the Old Vic). This would raise in Spacey a long-term affection for
London, and lead to the role of the sinister villain Mel Profitt in the
well-received mob series Wiseguy. He'd actually debuted onscreen in 1986, as a "subway thief" in Heartburn, coincidentally starring Nicholson and directed by The Graduate's Mike Nichols. In 1989, this fiercely intelligent and well-educated actor's fear of failure must have peaked when he appeared in the short-lived TV series Unsub, starring David Soul as the head of a Behavioural Science Unit. This would certainly explain his tormented outbursts on the set of Henry And June. Yet help was at hand, first in the shape of Jack Lemmon. While filming 1989's Dad, a cross-generational weepie starring Lemmon, Ted Danson and Ethan Hawke, Spacey enjoyed a revelation he believes changed his self-obsessive attitudes for good. He recalls passing the trailer of Eddie Murphy, then filming Harlem Nights on a neighbouring set. It was huge, surrounded by staff and a fleet of Rolls Royce golf-carts. "The man", Spacey told Arena magazine "had his own little city". Then, next to Murphy City, he noticed
another, far smaller trailer, belonging to Jack Lemmon. "This is
one of the greatest actors alive, and he's sitting in there by himself,
with the door wide open, doing the New York Times crossword. And I
thought to myself in that instant, Which life do you want, man? Which
way do you want to go?" And, when Lemmon looked up and sweetly
smiled, Spacey's mind was made up. He would aim to be a great actor, not
simply a big star. Then, after Outbreak, came Seven, where, as the super-murderer John Doe, a freaked-out cross between Ed Gein and John The Baptist, Spacey's burning intellect allowed him to convince us that he was indeed capable of such dreadful crimes. The way he smirked at Brad Pitt, knowing full well what was in the box, was itself a filmic masterclass. Any actor would've considered the year they played John Doe to be a success. But Spacey had plenty more to come in 1995. In The Usual Suspects, he was again not the lead, but again absolutely central. As Roger "Verbal" Kint, it was he who told the police all about the formation of Gabriel Byrne's gang, the blackmail, the murder, the final dockside confrontation and, of course, the legendary master of disaster Keyser Soze. Or at least, he told them HIS version.
Once more, Spacey was unbelievably good - sneaky, suspicious, arrogant,
vulnerable and cruel - utterly perfect. And quite rightly he was awarded
the Best Supporting Actor Oscar, for which he was more than prepared.
"As a kid," he told Premiere magazine "we used to come
out of the curtains in the kitchen to accept the Cheerios box, or
whatever it was". Here he was wealthy art dealer and bon vivant Jim Williams, a semi-closeted homosexual and, possibly, the brutal murderer of Jude Law. He also sang That Old Black Magic on the film's soundtrack. Then he teamed up with Samuel Jackson again, this time playing a hostage negotiator brought in to talk down Jackson, a negotiator himself but framed and forced to take hostages of his own. And it kept improving. He made a superb
Hopper, the evil dictator in A Bug's Life, and then moved on to his
greatest success yet. In American Beauty, he made an iconic figure of
Lester Burnham, a middle-aged man who, finding himself unhappy in his
job and utterly distanced from his family, jacks it all in, blackmails
his boss, buys himself a flash motor and tries to recapture the Lester
he used to be. His joyful roar of "I RULE!" was a genuinely
classic screen moment. Four days before the film opened, he received a
star on the Hollywood Walk Of Fame. The Oscar was a mere formality. Then came Lasse Hallstrom's adaptation of
E. Annie Proulx's bestseller The Shipping News, with Spacey taking his
young son back to his ancestral home in Newfoundland and receiving
wisdom, comfort and pain from Judi Dench, Julianne
Moore and Cate Blanchett respectively. On set, he drank copious
amounts of the local moonshine with Dench while teaching her to play
pool and, once both Moore and Blanchett had fallen pregnant, claimed it
was because they'd both taken a ride on his bike. It was after The Life Of David Gale that
he took time off to help the less fortunate in the industry and outside.
He'd already done his bit, having donated $100,000 to the Screen Actors'
Guild strike fund, and paid $150,000 for the Oscar George Stoll won for
Anchors Aweigh in 1945, which he duly returned to its original owner. In
December 2001, he saved a young boy from drowning in the pool of the
Beverly Hills Hilton and the next year accompanied former president Bill
Clinton and comedian Chris Rock on goodwill tours of Europe and Africa.
Come to think of it, he's turned into quite a sickeningly good bloke. He began by directing the brutal Cloaca,
written by the unknown Dutch writer Maria Goos, then there was a new
version of the pantomime Aladdin, starring Ian McKellen. Next he would
take to the stage himself, reprising the role he'd played in National
Anthems back in 1988, and then would come the classic The Philadelphia
Story, with Spacey taking the Cary Grant role. Only in his second season
would he approach the expected, with Shakespeare, Beckett, Chekov and
O'Neill on the cards. In attempting a pursuit, Spacey had tripped over his own dog and hit his head on the road - highly embarrassing for a man of such vaunted intelligence. Back in the States, Spacey's elder brother Randall would be causing yet more trouble, publicly accusing their father of being a pervert, sadist and member of the Nazi party. He'd worn a Hitler moustache, apparently, and molested and beaten Randall who, naturally, had protected young Kevin from any such treatment. Kevin, he claimed, had ignored all of this, repressing his feelings until he had "nothing inside". A book was mooted, to be titled I'm Spacey's Brother Whether He Likes It Or Not. Spacey himself maintained a dignified silence. Really, what could he say to THAT? Back onscreen, 2004 also saw Spacey
finally bring a long-cherished project to fruition. In Beyond The Sea,
he would direct himself, playing the great pop singer and ambitious
entertainer Bobby Darin, doomed to die at a painfully young 37. With $27
million to play with, Spacey certainly played, constructing some huge
production numbers, flitting back and forth through time and even having
the older Darin converse with the younger. It was great fun and so
accomplished that Spacey managed to avoid accusations of it being a
vanity project. Though working on a two-bit rag,
Timberlake decides to dig deeper and (eventually) aided by his
embittered editor Morgan
Freeman, he tries to engage the help of Spacey, the city's top
detective. Spacey in turn, recognizing the corruption has spread even to
his own office, must investigate without informing the DA. With shades
of Copland, Serpico and even Spacey's own LA Confidential, it was
another great role. |
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