The Greatest Showman #1496 - Casting Error

The importance of casting cannot be overstated. Even Meryl Streep, in some roles, is not necessarily the best fit. Matthew McConaughey is a talented actor, especially during the years between 2012 and 2014, but he wasn't the most suitable choice for the role of Cooper in Interstellar. From his acting style to his overall temperament, he didn't align with the needs of the character.

In a sense, Renly believes that the integrity of Interstellar was undermined by Matthew's performance. But it wasn't Matthew's fault—it was Christopher's. Christopher made the choice to cast Matthew, and that was where the misstep occurred.

As mentioned before, Christopher Nolan isn't a director known for his work with actors. He has a very distinct vision for selecting talent, but it's not always successful. In this case, Christopher's desire to focus more on the actor's performance led to a misjudgment that impacted the final film.

Of course, this is just Renly's personal opinion. After Interstellar was released, many viewers praised Matthew's performance, saying it became a highlight of the movie. Opinions on art are subjective, and everyone's interpretation is different.

If Renly had been in charge of casting, he believes someone like Casey Affleck or Christian Bale would have been a better fit for Cooper. He might also have considered Michael Fassbender or, with a significant commitment to losing weight, Russell Crowe. Though Crowe's performances post-middle age often suffer from a certain "grease" as age catches up, Renly thought Crowe still had potential.

However, Renly acknowledged that he isn't a casting director or a filmmaker, so his opinions were more of a thought experiment, a reference, rather than a definitive answer to how the casting should have been done.

Now, Andy had brought up Renly in conversation with Christopher, suggesting him as an alternate actor for Interstellar, which prompted Renly to reflect: Was he right for the role?

This thought brought a slight smile to his lips as he contemplated the question.

Andy, sitting across from him, didn't catch the brief smile and, in a matter of moments, Renly had already experienced a whirlwind of thoughts in his mind. Andy spoke up, his curiosity piqued. "So, what does this mean? Just because it's Christopher Nolan's name, you'd jump into the role without even reading the script?"

Renly laughed lightly. "Even if I want to join, I think Christopher has a lot of choices." His tone was modest, but the confidence in his words suggested otherwise. "I don't think I'm the best option, though."

"Why?" Andy asked, puzzled. "If it weren't for your tone, I'd think you were lacking in confidence. But you've read the script. What makes you think Christopher can find someone better than you?"

Renly gave a small, amused shrug. "I think so too. And I hope Christopher thinks so as well," he said, realizing Andy was a bit in the dark about the characters and the script. So he took a more vague approach to steer the conversation away from specifics.

When it came to the character of Cooper, Renly's biggest obstacle was his age. At the time of the conversation, Renly had just turned twenty-four, and even factoring in some extra years, he would only be around twenty-five.

The theme of Interstellar revolves around time, and the relationship between age and years is critical. Before Cooper leaves for space, his children are teenagers—Timothée Chalamet, playing his son Tom, was 18, and Mackenzie Foy, who portrayed his daughter Murphy, was 13. Matthew McConaughey, who played Cooper, was 42.

As the story progresses, Cooper's children age while he stays the same, which creates a unique time distortion. When they return, adult Tom, played by Casey Affleck, is 38, and adult Murphy, played by Jessica Chastain, is 36. By the end of the movie, Cooper's son and daughter are in their 70s, while Cooper, having returned from space, remains young.

This dramatic age contrast is essential to the plot. To achieve this, Cooper needed to be around 35 to 40 years old when he begins his journey. Having the actor playing Cooper in the 30s to mid-40s range would make sense, allowing the film to highlight the theme of time as it relates to the passage of ages.

Renly felt that casting someone too young for the role, like himself, would have disrupted this balance. Cooper's role needed an actor who could convey that subtle tension between time and aging, but also one who was old enough to be believable as a father figure to his children—especially since the film spans generations.

In Hollywood, most leading actors are between the ages of 30 and 45. While there are younger talents like Renly, they're often limited by experience and opportunities. This makes casting for a film like Interstellar particularly challenging. Although Renly would have been too young, he didn't see the practicality of a complete recast of the film to fit his ideal. He also acknowledged that Christopher Nolan's casting choices usually leaned toward a star-studded ensemble, something Warner Bros. likely supported.

In short, Renly's participation would have been difficult—he wasn't the best fit for Cooper. Choosing Matthew McConaughey was a casting mistake. But was choosing Renly another mistake? He couldn't say for sure.

Andy, noticing Renly's deep reflection, seemed to have a flash of realization. "I understand your hesitation. But there's also the issue with Warner Bros., right? Christopher still hasn't decided whether they or Legendary Pictures will back the project. I know Kevin Tsujihara and Thomas Tull won't give up easily. Sorting out those deals is going to be a headache."

While Andy's insight into the production side was insightful, he had misread Renly's concerns. Renly didn't bother correcting him. A small, playful mistake like this wasn't a big deal.

Andy sighed, torn between the two giants in the industry. "Honestly, I don't know whether to hope Warner Bros. or Legendary Pictures gets the production rights. Kevin Tsujihara and Thomas Tull aren't easy to deal with."

Renly nodded in agreement, keeping his focus on the business dynamics, though he couldn't help but feel the weight of his own decisions.

As an actor, Renly knew his role was to collaborate with the director. Producers, on the other hand, were focused on squeezing the budget. For him, the relationship with Christopher Nolan was the priority.

Andy, however, was quick to bring up the issue that truly mattered to him: money. "Renly, I'm serious here. If you're choosing Nightcrawler, I won't have much to say about it. But if you're going for Christopher Nolan or Jurassic Park... then I need you to stick to the 20 million salary and box office dividends. That's the leverage we need."

Renly gave a playful raise of his hands in surrender, but his smile spoke volumes. He understood the importance of this conversation—it was about his standing in Hollywood.

Andy continued to press on, his tone growing more insistent. "If you choose Nightcrawler, I get it. But if it's Interstellar or Jurassic Park, then you need to be on my side when it comes to your contract."

Renly simply nodded in acknowledgment. "Alright."

Though the decision was still far from finalized, Renly was beginning to understand the strategic weight of his choices. As much as he cared about the art, Hollywood's business side was always lurking just beneath the surface.