Exhibit H in the ‘Why Taron Egerton Deserves Every Award’ Series: The Smoke — “He’s after me.”
Having watched someone go through a panic attack several times, this performance is especially amazing to me. It would be so easy to overact a panic attack; after all, the word ‘panic’ is in the title so one might think they should make their eyes wide, pace, talk loudly or scream, but that’s not what a panic attack looks like, at least not in my experience. It’s being unable to breathe, it’s terror and quiet, lonely desperation, and just trying to focus on calming down. It’s being unable to get words out because you’re gasping for air, even though there’s plenty of oxygen. Taron’s portrayal in this scene is breathtaking—no pun intended. The way Dennis’ shuddering breaths interrupts his speech, and how instead of getting the words he meant to out, all he can do is curse; how his arms are wrapped tightly around himself and he forces himself to exhale through his mouth, inhale through his nose, like this isn’t the first time he’s has been through this; how his voice wavers; how he almost imperceptibly hits the back of his head against the wall as a sign of frustration and hatred for how his body is reacting and that he can’t get a handle on it is so real, it’s almost painful to watch. But it’s also so beautiful because somehow, this is just acting.
shoutout to the Best Animated film of the year =D #SundaySketch #CocoYall #GoldenGlobes #Oscars #AllTheAwards #Coco #Awards #bestAnimatedFilm #Disney #Pixar #DisneyPixar (at Nikkolas Design)
Exhibit A in the ‘Why Taron Egerton Deserves Every Award’ Series: Billionaire Boys Club — “Mean Dean”
Do you even realize how good Taron is in this scene?
Monologues can be hard to pull off, especially when they involve a memory that the actor obviously does not have. Sometimes those memories feel like just more words, and more than that, often a character’s memory is unimportant to the story and so you don’t really have to pay attention. Not this scene.
Right at the start, Dean shifts the conversation to what seems like a very random point about his nickname. The audience, and Joe, have no idea where this is coming from or where it’s going. Dean knows that Joe is aware of the answer to this question so he presses him to say it, and when Joe does, Dean surprises him by saying that the fact Joe thought he knew wasn’t one at all—and that’s Dean’s point. Facts are only facts because of how believed they are; facts don’t have to be truth.
And when Dean backs that up, telling, perhaps for the first time, what happened that night, his anger at being accused for something he didn’t do bubbles to the surface in an instant. His eyes are wide, the memories of the event crystal clear behind them, and his body language, the fact that he gives no unnecessary details, just keeping the story short and to the point, everything he does, every action, the way he looks at the door, the calm that comes over him at the end... it’s all so natural, it’s absolutely mesmerizing.
Exhibit B in the ‘Why Taron Egerton Deserves Every Award’ Series: Billionaire Boys Club — ‘Jonesing’
I don’t even know how to describe this brief moment besides ‘brilliant’; the way his jaw is moving, eyes flashing and rolling, that sense of insanity in his motions, the desperate need for another hit... it’s simply brilliant.
Exhibit D in the ‘Why Taron Egerton Deserves Every Award’ Series: Billionaire Boys Club — “Best Friend”
The panic rising into Dean’s voice, literally interrupting his speech is so real, I can almost feel it in my throat. And the genuine, grief-stricken, terror-filled expression, eyes wide like a child, coupled with the unsteady voice and desperation radiating from him makes this one of the most incredible scenes I’ve ever watched.
Exhibit C in the ‘Why Taron Egerton Deserves Every Award’ Series: Billionaire Boys Club — “Gas Chamber”
Throughout the movie, the more dependent he is on drugs, the more Dean wiggles his jaw back and forth without seeming to realize it. This happens repeatedly and is such an interesting choice from Taron. It’s like he can’t control his own body. And speaking of control, what Taron does with his voice, especially when Dean is talking about the death penalty, is breathtaking. It sounds like he’s fighting a panic attack while speaking. I don’t know how he does it—any of it, but it is truly something amazing to behold.
Exhibit E in the ‘Why Taron Egerton Deserves Every Award’ Series: Billionaire Boys Club — “Do you really wanna know?”
I am legitimately going to write a small novella about this scene, so be warned.
When he comes in, we don’t get the feeling from Sydney that we should be afraid of him. Even though she’s alone in the house with him, and though she is very unsure of what he’s been doing, she doesn’t seem scared of him at all, even when he appears seemingly out of nowhere.
Right at the start, he looks exhausted beyond exhausted—physically and mentally. He doesn’t even have the strength to muster a smile to go along with his casual greeting. He slowly strides past, 100% not in the mood to deal with Sydney so he tries to just get by and go to bed. She, however, is ready for a confrontation. So Dean turns, the gentle attempts at getting her to back off not working, and is more direct. The look on his face, the pained expression, the way he can’t seem to even open his eyes fully like he’s got a migraine and a half throbbing behind them, combined with the utter frustration in his voice when he says that line, everything is so visceral; a clear reminder of all he’s been through already tonight.
When Sydney presses him again, Dean snaps. His hand motions, the fact that, even when growing more annoyed, he still can’t open his eyes fully, and the grit in his voice... it’s incredible acting. Sydney’s face right after tells us that this is the first time she’s seen him snap like that and it unnerves her. Of course she has no way of knowing what he’s just done or why he’s so on edge, but she’s starting to realize that wherever he was, whatever he did tonight, it wasn’t good.
As Dean turns, hoping to have silenced her once and for all tonight, his blurry eyes catch sight of the suitcases. His stare travels backs to Sydney. She looks a bit guilty but determined. His eyes are wider now. He’s starting to get nervous. If she’s upset, if she’s leaving, that could mean bad things for Joe. And for him. And the fact that she’s packed up and ready to go ‘in the middle of the night’ says that she’s not just upset, she’s mad and someone that mad who knows too much is dangerous.
When he asks about the suitcases, she turns it back to him: “Where’s Ron Levin? You guys did something to him, didn’t you?” His fear is justified: she either already knows or is on the verge of knowing too much, and she’s not afraid of him. He stares, not sure what to say next. Then she says something that makes his blood run cold: “Well, I know that you did and I can promise you everybody else will, too.”
He reacts immediately, eyes widening further. He tries to defend himself, with the truth, but he quickly realizes nothing he says will change her mind unless he can prove it. So he asks if she’s talked to Joe, hoping that he can shift the blame where it belongs. If his girlfriend is out for blood, she should take it from him.
“Hey!” he yells harshly when she doesn’t respond, the sound echoing through the room. She turns to him, ready to hurt him. He’s determined not to let that happen. He leans close, intentionally in her space, his voice quiet now, hoping to scare her just enough to make her back off.
It doesn’t work.
The look on his face when she says “You ruined Joe”, the way his threatening expression disappears, revealing a grieved, scared boy... wow. And that grief, the guilt, the fact that her jabs are a little too accurate, maybe, hurts. So he reacts the way a wounded animal would when prodded—he bites back. He moves into her space again, looming, somehow taller than he was when he entered.
She fights back, still clearly unaware of how dangerous he is, and presses harder than ever before for answers, beating his chest until he grabs her wrists and holds her down so effortlessly, even while she struggles, it’s frightening. His fear and anger mixes with the opium, cocaine, and adrenaline still running through him and suddenly, he’s not Dean anymore; not even the same guy who walked in, exhausted and craving silence. Now, his eyes are wide, insane, his voice calm in contrast, and he steps closer to her, forcing her back.
“Do you really wanna know?” he asks in an almost amused fashion. ‘Ask me one more time, Sydney,’ he says without words. ‘I dare you. Let me tell you what your boyfriend did.’
This is the first time I have ever felt genuinely afraid of one of Taron’s characters. The fact that the natural sweetness of his eyes is completely erased and replaced by this cold, detached, haunting emptiness, it’s breathtaking.
Maybe it’s the fear in her eyes that makes him do what he does next, maybe it’s weeks or months or years worth of pent-up desire, maybe it’s just the need for control coursing through him, blinding him to anything else, but he releases her wrists and in an instant, kisses her.
She wrenches free, kicking him in the only place that doesn’t seem to be desensitized by the drugs, and he goes down, gasping and coughing. And as she rushes out the door, Dean realizes his mistake. But there’s nothing he can do about her now, especially not while he’s still breathless from the sobering pain.
Even after writing it all out, I still feel like I’m missing things, overlooking nuances in Taron’s performance that I’ll see down the road, but for now, I suppose just one thing can be said that I won’t feel the need to add onto later: Everything about Taron is different from the beginning to the end of this short scene and what happens in between, particularly in his eyes, is nothing short of incredible.
Exhibit F in the ‘Why Taron Egerton Deserves Every Award’ Series: Billionaire Boys Club — “Maybe I need to explain it to him.”
Dean’s eyes, and character, change so much after he’s had cocaine. Here, they’re heavy lidded and he has a frightening calm about him, almost like he’s fighting sleep despite being in a stressful situation. He’s at his wit’s end and this is their last shot so he is not ready to let it fail, but instead of going off, yelling and screaming, he says things in such a way that it almost seems like he’s arguing about where to go for dinner rather than threatening to bludgeon someone. This performance is so convincing, I have to consciously remind myself that it’s not real.
