Brando never did crunches. Al Pacino didn’t slurp protein shakes. Cary Grant had never even heard of burpees, BOSU balls, or human growth hormone. But not one of today’s leading men can afford the luxury of a gym-free life. You simply don’t get your name on a movie poster these days unless you’ve got a superhero’s physique – primed for high-def close-ups and global market appeal. Getting there takes effort, vigilance, and the dedication of the elite athlete: high-intensity training, strict diets, supplements, and hormone replacement. If that fails, there are always drugs. Today’s actors spend more time in the gym than they do rehearsing, more time with their trainers than with their directors.
And I grew up as a huge comic book fan.
Not anymore. I can’t stand the fucking movies they’re doing.
I’ll take Jimmy Stewart fighting the entire country with only his voice in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington over any goddammed actor in a latex costume with steroid-assisted bulk.
I again quote Nikki Finke, who saw it all coming back in 2008:
Pretty soon, every single fucking Hollywood film is gonna be based on a comic one way or another. Ugh.