A movie is coming out shortly in which Tom Hanks plays the popular kid show host, Fred Rogers. I don't think there's a better actor working today than Tom Hanks but if we were ignoring box office heat — as few films can afford to do — I think there might be someone around more suited to play Mr. Rogers. It would be someone who didn't keep looking or sounding like Tom Hanks.
Maybe it's just me but I have trouble with well-known people playing well-known people. They rarely seem to disappear into the roles for me. I feel the same way when someone familiar acts with a lot of makeup on…Billy Crystal in The Princess Bride or Mr. Saturday Night, for example. In those cases, I didn't see an older man on the screen. I saw Billy Crystal with a lot of stuff on his face.
When I watched the movie of Lenny, I did not see Dustin Hoffman becoming Lenny Bruce. I saw Dustin Hoffman doing Lenny Bruce's material. When I saw Will Smith playing Muhammad Ali, I saw Will Smith telling people he was Muhammad Ali.
In Saving Mr. Banks, we were supposed to buy Tom H. as Walt Disney and I'm afraid I didn't. To me, one of the charming things about the real Walt was that he was so non-slick in front of a camera; like they'd randomly picked someone's uncle to host a TV show. He was not a natural for that position, whereas Tom Hanks just twinkles with stardom on screen. He can dial it down but he can't shut it off.
I'm not saying those weren't great performances or great movies. I'm just saying that the better known the actor is — ofr for that matter, the person he or she is playing — the harder it is for me to stop seeing it as an actor playing a role. I did a little better with Bryan Cranston in Trumbo (though I didn't much like that film) and Philip Seymour Hoffman in Capote, in large part because I didn't know the sound of Dalton Trumbo's voice and I had no particular memory of this Hoffman in any other role.
I am trying not to pre-review a movie that isn't finished and which I haven't seen yet…but it would seem to me that the same thing applies with Hanks as Rogers, only more so. Fred Rogers' every word and gesture reminded you that he was not an actor; that he had never attended the Columbia School of Broadcasting or any other place to give him a polished, professional screen presence. It just seems to me he shouldn't be played by a fellow with two Oscars, four Golden Globes, six Emmys and a whole mess of other awards and nominations.
Then again, Mr. Rogers did win five Emmys, one of which was a lifetime achievement award. Another was a writing award which he got in 1985 and one of the nominees he beat out for it was me. I was not unhappy about that. To the extent such trophies actually recognize achievement, he probably deserved it way more than I did. If he'd been at the ceremony, I would have told him so.
A few years later, I was at the Licensing Show in New York and he was there to sign autographs for a few hours. Someone I knew there knew him and asked me, "You want to meet Mr. Rogers?" Well, of course I did. How could anyone pass up that opportunity? (At another one of those conferences, I met "Buffalo" Bob Smith of Howdy Doody fame. Have I told that story here?)
Introductions were made…and I was instantly struck by how Mr. Rogers was exactly the same in person as he was on-screen. Exactly. He talked the same, he smiled the same, he acted the same — which meant that on TV, he wasn't acting at all. I should have known better but, trying to get a chuckle out of him, I said, "It's an honor to meet you even though you beat me out for an Emmy Award."
Big mistake, Mark. Mr. Rogers suddenly acted like I was in need of medium-level grief counseling. He said, oh so kindly, "Now, young man, you shouldn't feel bad about such things. Awards are not the measure of what we do. I'm sure you did something of great value if it was nominated and the pride in that work should be your reward…"
"Well, I was just kidding. Actually, I thought it was great that you won and —"
"Because if you feel good about yourself, that's all that should ever matter. The approval of others is nice to have, of course, but it should never be a necessity in your life."
"It isn't," I said — and at that moment, all sorts of smartass quips, most of them self-deprecating, were racing through my mind. They were drowned-out by some part of my brain shouting at me, "Don't try to be funny! He takes things literally!"
So I said to him, "I'm sorry. I gave you a wrong impression. I was just trying to say it really was an honor to meet you."
And so help me, he grinned and said something that to him at that second I'm sure was absolutely true. He said, "Well, it's an honor to meet you, too!" And then he turned to some people near us and introduced me to them as his new friend. Even remembered my name and pronounced it properly, which I don't always do.
Even if Tom Hanks is the best actor alive — and I'm not saying he isn't — I don't see how he or anyone in show business could capture the total delight and complete lack of guile or sarcasm or artifice in Mr. Fred Rogers at that moment. In life, we sometimes play roles, acting nicer or more sincere than we really are because that seems to suit the situation.
I will keep an open mind and cheer if Mr. Hanks can make me accept him totally as Mr. Rogers. But in my one Mr. Rogers moment — the one I've just described — my then-new friend was totally honest and not playing any sort of role of any sort. Tom Hanks will be.