Cult Actors #8: Ron Perlman - Modern Day Man Of A Thousand Faces

Presenting modern day ‘man of a thousand faces,’ Ron Perlman.

Ron Perlman€™s giant mug in the multiplex is a hard thing to get used to. Yet he seems to be there more and more, his movie posters hanging proudly next to the Ben Stillers and Harry Potters. In Season of the Witch his name was next to Nick Cage€™s - above the title - and in 2008's Hellboy 2: The Golden Army he was the main player €“ the hero. But Ron Perlman shouldn€™t be there. He€™s not a movie star, he€™s a cult actor; a dead end kid with a face like a stepped in puddle of mud. He€™s a scared space pirate, a Neanderthal man, a freak living in the sewers of New York. He€™s an alien viceroy, a castaway monster on a desert island, he€™s a hunchback abandoned by God. But then in Hellboy 2: The Golden Army Perlman€™s face was, typically, buried behind heavy make-up. His skin was devil red, he had filed down horns and a jaw that looked like it was built out of granite. It€™s a four hour job, overseen by make-up effects maestro Rick Baker, to make Perlman look this pretty, but he never complained. It€™s nothing he hadn€™t done before. In a career spanning nearly 30 years Perlman has become a sort of modern day Lon Chaney, using various applied masks to create a rogues gallery of oddballs. Even in his film debut, as a prehistoric man in Jean-Jacques Annaud€™s Quest for Fire (1981), his face was hidden. Annaud was looking for people with an €œunevolved physicality€ and Perlman attended an open casting call. Waiting to be called into the director€™s office, the 31-year old actor found himself surround by an array of odd looking guys whose knuckles barely left the floor.

€œThere was all manner of humanity in there,€ recalls Perlman. €œI thought, my God, is this how I€™m perceived in the world?€
For once Perlman€™s face wasn€™t ugly enough and the make up team applied long matted hair, rotten teeth and a protruding overbite to make him look more like a man from 80,000 years into our past. Underneath this brutish exterior, Perlman played it simple, adding a much needed lightness to an otherwise dark film. And he seemed to relish the freedom of make-up acting, chowing on insects and taking a falling boulder to the head with deadpan perfection. Impressed, Annaud recalled Perlman in 1986 to play the deformed hunchback Salvatore in his medieval murder mystery In the Name of the Rose. Here he is once again disguised; his body twisted and mouth toothless €“ a victim of torture by the Inquisition. He is retched, half-mad and speaks in tongues but Perlman sought out the innocence of the character and played it like a child. In 1987 Perlman€™s skill at creating fully realised characters from behind layers of prosthetics won him the title role in CBS€™s Beauty and the Beast. The series was a modern day fairytale, with Linda Hamilton as a New York lawyer who comes into contact with Vincent (Perlman), a towering lion man living in the sewer. But far from being a beast, Vincent is tragically romantic and spends his time reading poetry. Women all over America swooned at this sensitivity and Perlman€™s soft, yet powerful voice. He was the ugly Robert Pattinson of his day. The show won Perlman a Golden Globe and should have turned him into a star. But without the make up, nobody knew who he was. Perlman became reluctant to don anymore movie masks, and decided to show his face onscreen more often. Hollywood wasn€™t interested. So instead he hunted the fringes of TV, voice work (another chance to hide his pug face) and low budget cinema. In 1993, seemingly tired of American movies all together, he headed south to Mexico and began a friendship that would eventually lead him back to the mainstream. Cronos was director Guillermo del Toro€™s debut picture, a vampire story concerning an old man granted eternal life. The director was tired of seeing foreign actors play villains in American movies, so decided get revenge by casting Perlman as the nominal bad guy. As the bastard gringo after his dying uncle€™s millions Perlman is another brute €“ a no good heavy with grazed knuckles, hiding behind a pin strip suit, sleazy charm and a shit eating grin. Again appearances are central and his character Angel is obsessed with getting a nose job. Perlman sniffs his way through the film, smelling everything he sees with a doglike curiosity. Indeed, Perlman plays him like a sun baked mutt and roles over and begs in the presence of his boss. €œHere I am, uncle,€ he whimpers, but then growls insults out of earshot, €œWhat the fuck is it now, you dried up old prune?€ Only Ron Perlman, with that mean face and childlike eyes, could be so feeble and imposing at the same time. The part drew Perlman international (if not American) acclaim and in 1995 he was hand picked to play the kindhearted strongman in Marc Caro and Jean-Pierre Juenet€™s The City of Lost Children. He was the only non-French speaking member of the production, but remained enthusiastic throughout. So much so that when Jeunet came to direct his first American movie Alien Resurrection (1997) he fought to have Perlman in the cast. He is always, it seems, a welcome precence on set. Born in New York in 1950 (across the bridge from Yankee Stadium) to a Jewish family, Perlman knew early on that he had to act. He claims he couldn€™t do anything else. But Hollywood is a place that prefers beauty to the beast, and Ron€™s tough guy face kept him out of soaps and commercials. Bur rather than get bitter, Perlman learnt to appreciate the roles he got. Never was this harder than in 1996€s The Island of Dr Moreau when he was tempted back to a heavy make up role by the chance to work with Marlon Brando. In a shoot plagued with trouble €“ a fired director, tropical locations, Val Kilmer €“ Perlman was constantly in full make-up without shooting a single frame. For a time, he considered giving the whole thing up altogether. Instead he returned to make-up acting more wholeheartedly (it couldn€™t get worse than Dr Moreau) and in 2002 appeared as a Nosferatu-like alien in Star Trek: Nemesis and a vampire hood in Guillermo Del Toro€™s Blade 2. At the time Del Toro was also in pre-production on a big screen adaptation of Mike Mignola€™s Hellboy and the director was adamant that no one but his friend Ron Perlman could play the part. Indeed, the character, a fusion of God, the devil and blue collar everyman was almost made for him. Hellboy is a demon of destruction, but one who chews cigars, eats pancakes, drinks beer and works for the government. Perlman plays the characters as another of his innocents, a grumpy, lovesick adolescent who pines for his fire starter colleague Liz Sherman (Selma Blair). The film is purely popcorn fare, but stops occasionally to delve into the heart of an ugly outsider €“ something both Del Toro and Perlman could relate to.
€œI wish I could do something about this,€ says Hellboy to Liz, gesturing his demon face. €œBut I can€™t. But I can promise you two things. One: I€™ll always look this good, and two: I€™ll never give up on you. Ever.€
Hellboy 2 is more comedic, but Perlman is again note perfect. And while the film never quite lives up to his performance, its hard not to leave the cinema feeling giddy having watched Hellboy and his fish-man buddy Abe get drunk, listen to Barry Manilow and then get into a boozy brawl with the prince of a mystical realm. Throughout his career Perlman has brought countless prosthetic masks to life, yet he refuses that easy comparison to the legendary Chaney (that €œMan of a thousand faces,€ from the silent era). But he shouldn€™t be so modest. Both men are masters of their craft, bringing to life weird monsters, making us care for them, understand them and see ourselves reflected in their eyes. Cult Actors #7 €“Pam GrierCult Actors #6 €“ Lee Van CleefCult Actors #5 €“ Peter WellerCult Actors #4 €“ Yaphet KottoCult Actors #3€“ Rutger HauerCult Actors #2€“ Adrienne Barbeau Cult Actors #1: Brad Dourif

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Tom Fallows hasn't written a bio just yet, but if they had... it would appear here.