Viggo Mortensen is hot. Like, incredibly so. Apart from that marvelous face and that totally sick body, Aragorn writes poetry in multiple languages, is a trained swordsman, translates poems, established a publishing house for offbeat artistic ventures, paints (you can see his work in A Perfect Murder, the only movie ever to make The Goop look sexy), sings, owns his own label, takes brilliant photographs, and makes interviews sound like performance art. Oh, and in his off time he acts and impresses the pants off people like Roger Ebert and David Cronenberg. He’s so awesome, Dennis Hopper introduces his work.
The only thing vaguely off-putting about him that I’ve ever come across is what appears to be his distressing desire to cross dress as a grandma (click on the pics too, that’s the sweetest little embroidered shirt you’ll see outside of your granny’s wardrobe). But even that’s kind attractive coz it’s not cookie cutter movie star apparel.
Little wonder then, that Viggo fans aren’t your average actor-lovers, satisfied with the random comment or two on blogs and dedicated fan sites. They mean business.
For the past year, for example, the Weinsteins have been sitting on a Viggo-starrer, an adaptation of Cormac McCarthy’s The Road. From the sounds of it, it’s a pretty faithful rendering of the book, which is not the happiest of stories (too much of an understatement?) ever so beautifully told. Originally slated for the end of 2008, The Road will finally make it’s appearance this November 25.
Unfortunately, if the crowd at TIFF is any indication, 2008 would have been a better fit. This year, Oprah and Tyler Perry have the heartwrenching market all sewn up with Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire, already being hailed as a work of art since it made its bow at Sundance; and the male performance everyone is talking about belongs to George Clooney in what’s being described as the zeitgeist-capturing Up in the Air.
Reactions to The Road, on the other hand, have been pretty much mixed to middling with grudging allowances for Viggo’s work despite the surfeit of Vitamin Water that apparently awaits us post-apocalypse. A few people have waded in with positive reviews, but it’s not anywhere near a slamdunk unlike the other two.
This is not an acceptable state of affairs in the land of Viggo. For the past week, the internet has been fairly seething with resentment for the no-taste hacks who would dare impugn a work of such monumental artistic value as The Road. I mean! The Road! Cormac McCarthy! Father and son! Pulitzer prize! Cannibals! Road trip! Apocalypse! Despair! Charlize Theron! Babies roasting on spits! What the hell do you philistines want?
I can only imagine the vitriol that awaits poor Colin Firth, who won Best Actor at the Venice fest, if he makes off with the top prize for his performance in A Single Man, freakin’ Tom Ford‘s debut, recently bought by the Weinstein’s with an eye to the Oscars.
Hmm. Actually, I just went back and read the first two paragraphs and now I’m going to be pissed if he doesn’t get nommed. I’m beginning to wonder if he’s some kind of clever Wiki con that just rolls up ten different people into one. Either that, or they cooked him up in a lab somewhere.
My God, Viggophilia is contagious!