If you were asked to list the attributes of a great actor you might say words like ‘passion’, ‘grit’, or ‘fearlessness’. You’d mention presence and charisma. You might talk about dedication to the craft, willingness to take risks, and the sheer talent to elevate a movie into something more than the sum of its parts. All of these attributes Nicolas Cage possesses in almost dangerous quantities. Some might suggest that Cage is as important an actor as Brando or De Niro — he’s arguably the greatest of his generation, a bracket which includes Daniel Day-Lewis, whose precise, virtuosic approach may be the antithesis to Cage’s howling miasma.
Cage brings something unique to every project he’s worked on, good or bad — and there is a lot of BAD in his filmography — he cannot be pigeonholed, and he is as idiosyncratic as they come. Here are a few other reasons why Nic Cage belongs in the pantheon of truly great actors.
He’s won an Oscar
OK, so the Academy Awards aren’t the be-all-and-end-all, but taking home a Best Actor statuette is high on the bucket list of any supposed celluloid great. Cage got his Oscar nod for 1995’s Leaving Las Vegas, a heavy-going story of love and dependence, based on the semi-autobiographical novel by John O’Brian. Cage’s performance is powerful and controlled, which serves to bring out the tragedy and instability of his character, a failed screenwriter with a death wish, whose morbidity leads him to the gaudy setting of Las Vegas. This is the movie that brought Cage out of what many consider to be a career freefall.
Leaving Las Vegas is dark and gritty. It was shot on Super 16 due to budget reasons, and this gives it the feel of a European art house film, rather than a more ‘traditional’ Vegas flick. There are countless films set in Sin City, and the strip has served as a rich backdrop, with bright lights, and iconic casinos which are as popular as ever. That popularity is reflected in the ever-expanding online casino industry, which draws millions in to play slots and games in ever more immersive ways, bringing the atmosphere of Vegas to computers and mobiles.
Cage and the Critics
Critical response to Nicolas Cage’s performances have varied greatly over the years, and he’s been subject to derision, acclaim, and bewilderment in about equal measure. Recent roles have earned him critical accolades — a vengeful logger in psychedelic action/horror/something else movie Mandy (2018), a reclusive truffle hunter in Pig (2021), and as himself in The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent (2022). With hindsight, it seems like his career slump was a blessing in disguise, a Petri dish for a singular, mercurial talent to develop.
The late 80s and early 90s saw vast swathes of Nicolas Cage movies hit the theaters (or the straight-to-DVD section of the video store). This was a time when the enigmatic actor signed on to just about any script that plopped onto the doormat, and then usually bombed at the box office. But Cage showed his dedication to acting — there are MANY bad films from the era, but surprisingly few bad performances. No one could doubt his chops, or his commitment to whatever film he was working on. He also began to hone a new style of acting, beyond method acting, and this, it could be said, really elevates him to true greatness.
He’s a pioneer
Cage’s ‘nouveau shamanic’ acting style started to develop as far back as 1989’s Vampire’s Kiss, a low-budget curiosity now embedded in meme culture — there are plenty of incredible scenes, such as Cage admonishing his secretary for mislaying a document. But the real nouveau shamanic moment comes towards the end of the movie, as he roams the streets with his shirt untucked, moaning, convinced he’s a vampire, begging for someone to kill him with the stake he’s dragging along.
A flick through the filmography reveals other notable examples — Zandalee and Deadfall to name two. But you can see nouveau shamanism throughout much of his later work — the baffling 2006 remake of The Wicker Man, or Werner Herzog’s ‘remake’ of Bad Lieutenant (also baffling). Many method actors prepare for a role by going through ordeals of some kind — weight gain or loss, for example. Watching Nicolas Cage’s eyes rolling, mouth drooping open, moaning, shrieking, painting himself blue, or whatever else he’s up to, there is the palpable sense that he is, at that moment, in the midst of the ordeal.
Cage’s work as an actor is powerful stuff — sometimes funny, sometimes disturbing, but almost always compelling. His name belongs next to Olivier, Brando and the other great luminaries of the silver screen.
