Off-screen, Billy Crystal is a short, average-looking middle-aged man with a badly arranged hairstyle and a reputation as one of the funniest men in the business. (A recent Emmy Award for his latest stint hosting the Oscars attests to that reputation.)
On-screen, Billy Crystal is this short, average-looking middle-aged schmuck - with a badly arranged hairstyle.
So, what gives? Why has one of the more appealing comic talents of the last 20 years been reduced to playing essentially the same unappealing character in most of the movies he has made in the last 10 years?
You probably recognize the character, evident again in Crystal's latest, My Giant, out on video this week. There is the short part, and that unfortunate haircut is a constant. The rest is just as tedious and predictable. Crystal plays a familiar Everyman suffering through severe middle-aged angst thanks to career and relationship crises.
It worked like gangbusters for 1991's City Slickers when Crystal, coming off When Harry Met Sally, was one of the biggest comedy stars in the world. But the City Slickers sequel, Forget Paris, Father's Day and, now, My Giant were all increasingly tiresome variations on the same theme.
It now appears that this is the only type of role available to Crystal.
Think of the excitement that greets the news that Crystal will host the Oscars and the anticipation for the performance of the best host in the business. Contrast that Crystal with the mopey long-in-the-face version we see on the big screen. Perhaps it is time for Crystal, like John Travolta, Bruce Willis and Sylvester Stallone to go the indie film route to try to reinvent his big-screen persona. If not, a sitcom - something like Billy! in which he plays a hapless suburban dad juggling wife kids and wacky neighbours - seems likely.
Formulaic is a kind description for My Giant, in which Crystal stars as a failed show business agent who believes his ship has come in when, on a business trip to Romania, he spies the gigantic Gheorghe Muresan. Muresan, for those who ignore the NBA, is a Romanian shot-blocking role player for the Washington Wizards - and he is truly a giant, standing about seven-foot-seven. What Muresan is not, is an actor, and if you do rent My Giant you will be straining to make out what he is saying. It is not worth the effort.
The essence of My Giant has to do with Crystal's character regaining his humanity when he realizes that Muresan is not just his ticket to the big time, but a real person. The movie never resists the opportunity to go for cheap sentiment, and it is hard to imagine even hard-core Crystal fans going for My Giant.
If you are interested in seeing what Crystal is capable of, try 1992's Mr. Saturday Night. Unfairly lambasted by critics, Crystal's fictional bio of a Jerry Lewis-like comic is actually quite funny, as well as being a skilful depiction of a certain style of entertainer - the nightclub comic - that has long gone out of style.
It may be Crystal's best performance on the big screen, and it also features an Oscar-nominated performance from David Paymer as the Crystal character's long-suffering brother.
Mr. Saturday Night is by no means a great film, but it is vastly superior to anything Crystal has done in the past half-dozen years.
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