Actor Appreciation Day: David Strathairn
During the waning months of 2023, I decided to take on the biggest challenge of my film-watching life: I would view the entire filmography of actor David Strathairn in chronological order. I hit snags along the way—as a Brit, a good few of his movies were unavailable to me—but I finished the project this past weekend, having seen 92 films. Whew.
You may not know his name, but you’d recognize his face. Though he’s spent a large part of his long career in smaller, independent features, he’s also made notable appearances in two Godzilla movies; the Bourne franchise; recent much-discussed productions like Nomadland, Nightmare Alley and Where the Crawdads Sing; and ‘90s classics The Firm, L.A. Confidential, A League of Their Own, Sneakers and The River Wild. A perennial supporting actor, once in a while he’ll take a leading role—the most prestigious example being Good Night, and Good Luck, which netted him his only Oscar nomination to date.
So what is it about David Strathairn that fascinates me so? Whereas many character actors are known for their eccentricities or unusual physicality, the strength of Strathairn’s screen presence lies in his interiority; Roger Ebert called him “that actor of precise inward silence.” Strathairn has extraordinarily eloquent eyes; he’s capable of making even the act of thinking not only visible, but interesting. And he’s been doing it for over 40 years! So, as his 75th birthday approached, I wanted to immerse myself in the career of the man who’s stealthily become one of modern cinema’s most stalwart assets—to explore what makes him so very good.
In Good Night and Good Luck, although Strathairn’s Ed Murrow speaks frequently and authoritatively on TV, behind the scenes he’s usually the quietest of the large and starry ensemble—the center of gravity in every room even when he’s not saying a word. That quiet power has a tangible presence.
When, as is more often the case, David Strathairn is in a supporting role, he transmits his opinion readily without dialogue. Much of Lincoln revolves around Daniel Day-Lewis channeling the 16th president’s legendary way with words; as his Secretary of State and right-hand man William Seward, Strathairn is afforded considerably less dialogue. Yet, purely from the way his Seward watches Lincoln when he’s in his full glorious flow, we can feel the complex dimensions of their relationship; the regard he has for Lincoln as a man, alongside his intense skepticism of his methods. All that frustration and admiration and concern conveyed simultaneously, with a mere look from Strathairn.
In the Gloaming sees him play the father of a gay son (Robert Sean Leonard) who has come home with a terminal AIDS diagnosis. While the majority of the film is dedicated to the relationship between son and mother (the indomitable Glenn Close), Strathairn’s father is a constant presence. He hovers around and blathers blithe pleasantries, all while his eyes belie the desperation of a man eager to connect with a child he doesn’t really know, but who has no idea how to do so. Once it’s too late, and he is left alone with the wife from whom he’s been long emotionally estranged, Strathairn ends the movie with the single most devastating line reading of his career so far—if you can watch him speak it without dissolving into tears, you’re made of sterner stuff than I.
In Limbo, his final collaboration with renowned indie director John Sayles, it’s the history of his character he keeps wrapped up within that soulful gaze. When we eventually learn the truth about taciturn fisherman Joe Gastineau—that he was responsible for a deadly boat accident—it doesn’t come as a surprise, because the guilt has been so legible on his face. That silent ache of guilt also enriches his performance in Eight Men Out (another Sayles collaboration), where he’s a baseball player forced by the greed and corruption of the sports’ higher-ups to join his team in throwing the World Series.
Unquestionably, Sayles has been Strathairn’s most important creative partner. After becoming friends while doing summer stock in New Hampshire in their youths, the director cast Strathairn in his first film, 1980’s Return of the Secaucus 7, and the two worked together five more times over the next two decades. Sayles gave the actor meaty roles while other directors were still casting him as bit parts and caricatures, understanding his immense ability—including the potential he had as a lead (it’s an ensemble piece, but Strathairn is the tortured heart of Eight Men Out). Though the two didn’t collaborate again after Limbo in 1999, and Sayles hasn’t made a feature since 2013, their shared work is among the richest of both men’s careers.
While David Strathairn largely played good guys for Sayles (his extraterrestrial bounty hunter in The Brother from Another Planet being a glorious exception) and his most garlanded role, Ed Murrow, was one of the best guys around, the actor has also amassed a murderers’ row of villains over his decades on screen.
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