by Quendrith Johnson
Since Daniel Day-Lewis, of late portraying "Lincoln," declined to speak to reporters last week on the red carpet while he was in town to accept the Montecito Award at the Santa Barbara International Film Festival, it seems only fair to give him a bit of the "treatment" as the Irish would say. The title card would have read: 'Tonight, Daniel Day-Lewis will be playing Himself: Socialist Shoemaker from Wicklow, Ireland, Province of Leinster.'
To wit, he wore striped mint-chocolate socks, an ultra-trim high-water style navy suit, a spikey salt-and-pepper hairdo, and was after looking a bit like a thin Brendan Gleeson in "The Guard." You could almost hear his Tim Burton theme-music as he mingled among "fans" stacked three deep at the barriers. So it was difficult not to muse over a quote from one of Day-Lewis's own dreaded interviews where he tells a UK reporter from The Guardian that "once you know what colour socks (an actor) wears," the mystery is over.
To his credit, this actor did spent a mysterious amount of time with a young fan inexplicably dressed in tails and a top hat; and Daniel Day-Lewis certainly has pheromones, as he managed to squeeze a super hot blonde for a juicy photo op before snubbing reporters.
Even Sally Field, who did talk to reporters on the red carpet and plays Mary Lincoln opposite him, was at a loss as to explain working with "The World's Greatest Actor." She rolled her eyes at the label, "I AM an Actor," she scolded, meaning he had nothing on her. (And furthermore, Sally Field, naturally gorgeous at 67, is tough as painted nails, and could rightly be dubbed "World's Most Beloved Actor.")
While the Hollywood Reporter's designated Q & A specialist threw softballs at Day-Lewis during the Tribute, a portrait not of "World's Greatest Actor" but Complicated Creative Artist emerged.
Instead of addressing Spielberg's "Lincoln" or how he prepared to depict this American Icon for which is he up for an Academy Award on Feb. 24, the classically trained English drama king focused on his early development as a budding Socialist and hood in primary school. He went from ill-fitting private school Sevenoaks in Kent to Bedales in Hampshire, a progressive school that encouraged him to make a dining table and chairs as a gift for his mother, Irish actress Jill Balcon.
Son of poet Cecil Day-Lewis (nee: Nicholas Blake), he said he strayed from his literary roots and was basically a bit of thug growing up. One acting teacher named Rudi Shelly at the Bristol Old Vic saved him, he said, taught him not to be so defensive or afraid to play the fool. "I'd been a fighter before that. Always had my guard up. I would hit out." Shelly also taught Miranda Richardson and Greta Scacchi, and his notes would go something like "you have a voice like a fart in a wicker basket, it doesn't know which hole to come out." Learning to embrace his inner fool turned the key to his soul, he revealed, and Rudi Shelly brought forth the formidable talent we see today on the world stage. (Shelly left Germany during WWII and was the sole survivor of his family.)
Since 1996 when they met on the set of "The Crucible," Day-Lewis has been with Rebecca Miller who is Arthur Miller's daughter. (A writer/director Rebecca was born the same year Miller's ex, Marilyn Monroe, died. Her mother Inge Morath was the photographer tasked to shoot Arthur Miller and Marilyn Monroe on the set of "The Misfits," as the lore goes.)
They have two young sons, plus the actor has a son from a prior relationship with Isabelle Adjani. The couple collaborated in 2005 on "The Ballad of Jack and Rose," written by Rebecca Miller. None of this is touched on during the Q & A.
As with all performances from Daniel Day-Lewis, one can't help wondering whether it was wise to disclose that his grandfather Sir Michael Balcon who ran Ealing Studios was a member of the Communist Party to the surely Capitalist well-heeled Santa Barbara Republicans in the audience. It seemed like biting the hand that fed him, or at least paid his passage to this event.
Additionally, he wryly noted that he himself was happily schooled under Socialist leanings to learn a trade, specifically woodworking, during his secondary education.
In later life, Daniel Day-Lewis has continued this learn-a-trade obsession to become an aficionado in the Italian hand-made shoemaking arts -- no kidding. In fact, he may have made the brushed-brown hush-puppies he wore that night. For bedside reading, he no doubt has Linda O'Keefe's "Shoes, A Celebration of Pumps, Sandals, Slippers, and More" by Workman Publishing.
The actor's shortened pant legs seemed to serve as a showcase for not only the gaudy very-Irish socks, but for those heavily favored chocolate suede shoes as well.
If there had been an opera screen, it would have carried the translation: "Daniel Day-Lewis is Pulling Your Leg." But no, he was dead serious; as serious as any man who can pull off Bill the Butcher ("Gangs of New York"), Daniel Plainview ("There Will Be Blood"), a version of Fellini from "NINE," and Abraham Lincoln can be.
Introduced by Michael Mann, who directed him in "Last of the Mohicans," Daniel Day-Lewis did not exactly disappoint during the hour-plus sit-down. But there were moments of confusion. The actor seemed to want to dwell on the minutiae of events that had nothing to do with acting that rightly shaped his internal life, such as how he felt a kinship with street rats, dockworkers, and was picked on in school for being less (or having less) or being from a literary/artistic clan.
He never once addressed being Lincoln, or gave a thought to whether it was analogous to Vivien Leigh, also English, portraying American Icon Scarlett O'Hara in "Gone With The Wind." You almost wanted to throw a penny at him, and say 'remember this guy? That's who you owe some reverence to, the copper face on the coin.'
The clips shown of his career, from cerebral palsy sufferer Christy Brown in "My Left Foot" to "In the Name of the Father" to his mannered turn in period piece "The Age of Innocence," shed no more light on the actor. Even his self-described complicated personal development from age 15, having survived his father's untimely death, couldn't cut through the armor of his theatrical persona.
The only ray of light shed was that in his early career Day-Lewis sent a menacing note to a director demanding a part or he would break the director's legs. Guess we all do what we can to get our first break, even threatening violence. That ploy actually worked on Stephen Frears to land the role of Johnny in "My Beautiful Laundrette."
In sum, the mythos of Daniel Day-Lewis remains intact, even after a grueling and exhaustive formal night sharing his, in quotes, true personal history. And displaying the colour of his Willy Wonka socks...
Perhaps, this mercurial performer is best thought of as Nijinsky to Martin Scorsese's Diaghilev, that there is a certain alchemical madness required to extract his talents that even Daniel Day-Lewis is not fully aware of in terms of the mechanics. One can't help but imagine that Day-Lewis's urge to make shoes has its subtle parallel to the fabled red shoes, and the result on their wearer.
At the Santa Barbara International Film Festival during his Montecito Tribute in the last week of January, Daniel Day-Lewis appeared to be dancing as fast as he could, dancing around the real issues and pirouetting past any explanation of what makes this truly phenomenal actor spin on the inside.
[PS: the author is a size nine and prefers black kid in the style of Peter Fox, if the Daniel Day-Lewis shoemaker elves would oblige.]
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