Manchester United

A short video from the film "Eurotrip", about the Manchester United football hooligans :)

A long promised contribution

Find here the showcase of those Oscar-winning and -nominated British actors and directors, whom, in my opinion, a university student majoring in English simply must now. Enjoy with a detailed list of Academy Awards winnings and selected biography & trivia.


Oscar winner and nominated Britons

Kellner Sándor a.k.a Alexander Korda

Sorry for continuously returning to the entertainment section of the class, but I wanted to share this with you. Below you will find an excerpt about Alexander Korda (mentioned in the article about the history of the BAFTA) from Kati Marton's book titled The Great Escape: Nine Jews Who Fled Hitler and Changed the World. It is pretty long, I know, but it's very interesting and informative. I hope you'll enjoy it.

"Soon, Korda’s banner would flutter above the Thames. It was in England that Korda saw his greatest opportunity to create an empire to rival the one that had recently rejected him. Again, as in 1908 when he grasped that films were the medium of the future, Korda saw a void that he could fill. England had no film moguls, no big movie stars, no studios. Like Hungary, it boasted a rich history ready to be mined, and – unlike Hungary – a language that was spoken on both sides of the Atlantic. Above all, it was Europe! He would take the lessons learned in Hollywood and transplant them to Britain. He knew the secret to independence. He would create a full-blown corporation and a studio of his own. He would show those crude studio pashas. And he would make his brothers his partners – though never equals – and thus reconstitute the scattered family. Korda had circled from Budapest to Vienna to Berlin to Hollywood to Paris. Approaching his fortieth year, he would make London his final stop.

The fact that Britain’s first ever international film hit was an all-Hungarian production – produced and directed by Alexander Korda, sets by Vincent Korda, and screenplay by Lajos Biro – did not diminish Britain’s pride at beating Hollywood at its own game. The Private Life of Henry VIII was such a huge hit in 1933 that, for the rest of his life, Alexander Korda, too, compete with himself. With this film, everything came together for Korda. Filmed in five weeks for a paltry £50,000 (according to Alex, at least), it grossed half a million pounds in its first world run. Well over half a century later, The Private Life of Henry VIII turns up on cable channels at odd hours – and, with Charles Laughton’s unforgettable, scenery-chewing performance as Henry, it remains an irresistible romp.

Henry VIII was suffused with Korda’s love of history with a human, ironic face. “It’s a boy!” the monarch whoops at his hunting party, like any clerk receiving the good news. “There’s no delicacy, nowadays,” Henry grumbles, tearing into the capon and famously tossing the bones over his shoulder. Korda transformed the monarch into a henpecked husband. “Don’t you shout at me,” Anne of Cleves warns Henry, “just because I’m your wife!” When Henry approaches the marriage bed of his least attractive wife mumbling, “The things I do for England,” audiences the world over roared, and still do. Alexander Korda was established as Britain’s leading director/producer.

“Everyone wanted to know Korda,” British director Michael Powell observed, “and Korda knew everybody.” Korda built his dream studio, a private Xanadu tucked away in the Buckinghamshire village of Denham. Financed by the Prudential Insurance Company, the London Film Studio sprawled over 165 acres, boasting seven sound stages, two film theaters, and eighteen cutting rooms. From an antique and art-filled office suitable for receiving prime ministers and maharajas, Korda presided over a staff of more than two thousand. Everything about Korda – from the magic of his name, the suit that seemed molded to his tall frame, his handmade shoes – radiated nonchalant wealth and position, and was as meticulously staged as any other Korda production.

For three years Korda reigned from the proud tower of his dreams. London’s greatest actors – Laurence Olivier, Ralph Richardson, Leslie Howard, Valerie Hobson, and Vivien Leigh – formed his personal repertory theater, while so many Hungarians found jobs at Denham that the river Colne on which it was located was referred to as the Danube.

Korda’s genius was with people. “An enormous personality,” director David Lean recalled. “Fifteen minutes with him was worth two days with anyone else. . . . He could take any subject and talk on it for twenty minutes.” Actor Ralph Richardson called him the most magnetic person he had ever met. “I would go see Alex with a problem,” Sir Ralph recalled, “with a furious speech about what I wanted and what I’d do if I didn’t get it. And all the time he’d be staring at my feet. When I finished, he’d say, ‘Where did you get those marvelous shoes? I’d give anything to have shoes like those.’ And I would retire defeated.” Though he had a fine, light touch as a director, Korda said directing was like going down into the mines, something to be gotten over as fast as possible. Laurence Olivier recalled a scene where he had “done the worst acting of my life,” only to hear Korda call out: “Okay, cut. Next shot!” Olivier protested. “Can’t I have another take?” Whereupon Korda coolly replied, “Larry, my dear boy, you know nothing about making pictures. Sometimes there must be bad acting. Next shot.”

Great Britain’s first movie mogul never did fully master the English language. Left to themselves, the Korda brothers spoke Hungarian and reverted to their childhood names, Lacikam, Vincikem, and Zolikam. Salami appeared from under the silver chafing dish in the Georgian dining room, and soon the three brothers were back in the Turkeve of their childhood, arguing – and ultimately yielding to the eldest’s implacable will.

In the 1930s, Korda decided it was time to end his nomadic, hotel-centered existence, and settled into a mansion on Avenue Road where he received the great figures of the day; the writers H. G. Wells and Graham Greene, Lawrence of Arabia, and Winston Churchill. One of Korda’s most appealing qualities was that his largesse matched his ambition. “Korda [was] one of the most generous men I ever met,” the legendary Josef von Sternberg recalled. Once when von Sternberg – director of The Blue Angel and Morocco – was hospitalized in London, instead of flowers Alex brought “an important large bronze [of a woman] by Aristide Maillol to my rooms with a charming note which said that he thought I could deal with women better than he could.”

It was more than Korda’s fabled powers of persuasion that kept the money flowing. British financiers got a kick out of premiers under the bright lights of Korda’s Hollywood-on-the-Thames. They were proud to be associated with The Scarlet Pimpernel, The Rise of Catherine the Great, and Rembrandt: finely crafted costume dramas, with Korda’s sardonic touch. Competing with Hollywood on the international market was, however, beyond even Korda’s reach. Fast-paced action films like Michael Curtiz’s The Charge of the Light Brigade and The Adventures of Robin Hood were world hits, from Burbank to Budapest, in a way that Korda’s British costume dramas were not.

But Korda’s personality was big. Five years after being fired by Fox, he returned to Hollywood in September 1935, and, flanked by the film world’s most iconic figures, Charlie Chaplin, Douglas Fairbanks, and Mary Pickford, he became a full partner in United Artists. Still, his feelings for Hollywood never warmed.

Michael Curtiz’s stepson, John Meredyth Lucas, remembered a three-day train journey on the Super Chief from Los Angeles to Chicago with the two Hungarian directors. “Korda had been urging Mike to come to England with him, making him fabulous offers and expounding on the wonders of English life. Each evening we three would have dinner served in Mike’s drawing room. Korda would go on about the great opportunities and freedom for a director working in England … [and] denigrate the harsh commercialism of Hollywood, and the uncouth American audience.” But Curtiz was not buying. “ ‘I stay on my home’ [Curtiz] declared. ‘I am American. . . . The English is terrible phony.’ ” The two old Budapest rivals were puzzled by Lucas’s amusement. “It took me a while to explain the humor of two Hungarians patriotically refighting the American Revolution.”

Korda had good reason to prefer his Hollywood-on-the-Thames; after all, it preferred him, and treated him the way he most wanted. Returning to London from Hollywood in October 1935, Korda’s Rolls-Royce glided into the Savoy’s driveway. Alighting in his signature homburg, brandishing a tycoon-size cigar, the mogul beamed toward the blinding flash and pop of dozens of photographers. Variety carried this breathless account: “Largest gathering of newspapermen ever assembled for anything but a national event, crowded into a large ballroom to get the low-down from Alex Korda on his return from America.”

Since his earliest days as a Budapest film director, Korda had understood the unique power of a radiant, beautiful face on a large silver screen. In 1938, he proved his genius as a talent-spotter and star-maker when he presented a little-known British stage actress to David Selznick, who was conducting a widely publicized search for the actress who would play the central role in what promised to be the biggest film ever, Gone With the Wind. “The lucky Hungarian has fallen onto something,” Selznick wrote his business partner, Jock Whitney, after meeting Vivien Leigh, “and we’re going to make a fortune for him.” And so Scarlett O’Hara was chosen, and Korda was handsomely rewarded. But Korda’s London Film Company’s debt already exceeded $4 million. “The fact that we have lost a great deal of money through our association with K[orda] must be faced,” began and internal memo of the Prudential Insurance Company. “K’s engaging personality and charm of manner must be resisted,” the memo continued. “His financial sense is non-existent and his promises (even when sincere) worthless.” And so, in early 1939, Alexander Korda lost his dream palace, which became a part of Pinewood Studios. “All I have left,” Korda bitterly told a visitor, “are a few shares and some old films which are equally worthless.” But for the relentless and resilient Alexander Korda, “a few shares and some old films” were enough to start anew. In Hollywood, he had learned that defeat could be transformed into triumph. It was all a matter of marketing.

On March 20, 1939, Korda announced the creation of Alexander Korda Film Productions. One would never have known from his press release that Korda’s dream of running his own world-class studio had crumbled. “The films of the new company will be presented by London Film Productions [Korda’s former studio] and distributed throughout the world by United Artists, of which Mr. Korda is one of the owner members.” One more time, he had returned from the dead. Later that year, Alex fulfilled another fantasy. In a simple ceremony in Antibes, he married the actress Merle Oberon, one of the world’s most glamorous women. Groomed for stardom by her new husband, in some ways she was as much a Korda creation as London Films. His wedding present to Merle was a necklace once worn by Marie Antoinette.

Korda was a man who was radioactive with ideas – some brilliant. One of his most inspired resulted in the most powerful (and enduring) anti-Hitler film of the period, Charlie Chaplin’s The Great Dictator. “Alexander Korda,” Chaplin recalled in his memoirs, “in 1937 had suggested I should do a Hitler story based on mistaken identity, Hitler having the same moustache as the tramp: I could play both characters, he said. I did not think too much about the idea then.” But Chaplin eventually changed his mind. The Great Dictator, with its unforgettable satire of Hitler, was released in 1940 to packed movie houses. By that time, however, it was seen less a satire than a chilling, if belated, wake-up call, especially to Americans who were still out of the war. Like all the Hungarians who had found refuge in the West, Korda himself needed no wake-up call. He knew if the Nazis crossed the English Channel, he would be on the Gestapo’s list. “I think another war will kill me,” the forty-six-year-old producer-director lamented. “The Holocaust,” Michael Korda noted, “was no more than he expected to happen.”

On Sunday morning, September 3, 1939, the shrill wail of the war’s first air raid warning pierced through London’s early morning sky, bringing the nightmare home to Alexander Korda. “We had all gathered in one of the big concrete coal bunkers [at Denham Studios],” director Michael Powell remembered, “to listen to [Neville Chamberlain’s] broadcast [admitting the failure of his policy of appeasement and announcing a state of war between Great Britain and Germany]. . . . Alex and his brothers were there, and Merle, who was holding Alex’s hand and crying. Alex was smoking one of his Coronas, as usual, and he took a deep breath and sent a perfect smoke ring into the air.” For Korda, like Curtiz, the war against the Nazis was personal – and it presented an opportunity.

Winston Churchill returned to office, as first lord of the admiralty in 1939, before becoming prime minister in May 1940. He was the man of the hour, and Korda called on him. The two shared a deep love of history, especially British history, a flair of showmanship, and a taste for cigars and brandy. Now they had a common enemy. The Hungarian offered Churchill all the resources at his command in waging a propaganda war against Hitler. Afterward, “Alex summoned a meeting of all his principal contract people,” Michael Powell recalled. “He explained his personal agreement with Churchill and how it affected us all. Britain was preparing for war. Denham was already a classified area. Now came our orders. When war was declared, filming on The Thief of Baghdad would stop. The next day everybody at Denham would start working on a feature propaganda film which Alex had promised Churchill would be ready in one month. . . . All he asked of us was that we would go with heart, mind and soul into making his new picture, and work with whomever we were assigned to.”

The Lion Has Wings was Korda’s first engagement in his personal war against the Nazis. His wartime sacrifice entailed returning to “bloody California.” Ten years after his spectacular Hollywood flameout, Korda was back as Winston Churchill’s personal emissary in the campaign to bring America into the war. It was Churchill who suggested the story of Lord Nelson and the Battle of Trafalgar as a subject for a Korda film. But it was Korda who persuaded Laurence Olivier, the world’s most admired actor, and Vivien Leigh, fresh from her blazing success as Scarlett O’Hara, to play Nelson and his mistress, Emma Hamilton.

“Propaganda,” Korda told Olivier, “can be a bitter medicine. It needs sugar coating – and That Hamilton Woman is a very thick sugar coating indeed.” There was nothing sugary, however, in the message beneath the frosting. In the opening scene, Captain Hardy, Nelson’s deputy, attacks those countries that are “neutral against England and so scared of Bonaparte they daren’t lift a finger for the people brave enough to fight him.” When Laurence Olivier, as Nelson, addresses the admiralty, he is speaking Churchill’s words, via Alexander Korda. Nelson is not referring, of course, to Bonaparte when he says: “Napoleon can never be master of the world until he has smashed us up – and believe me gentlemen, he means to be master of the world. You cannot make peace with dictators. You have to destroy them. Wipe them out! Gentlemen, I implore you – speak to the Prime Minister before it is too late. Do not ratify this peace!” When That Hamilton Woman came out, America was still neutral; its message was clear. A Senate committee sent a subpoena to Korda instructing him to testify on December 12, 1941, on whether he was “inciting the American public to war.” Five days before he was scheduled to appear, Pearl Harbor was attacked. The testimony was canceled.

That Hamilton Woman was brilliant propaganda. It was also vintage Korda, a lavish peek behind a historic event, suitably improved from the literal truth. The film was a labor of love for Korda, who produced, directed, and financed it – in five weeks. Vincent Korda’s astonishing eighteenth-century armada for the re-creation of the Battle of Trafalgar was so lifelike that Vivien Leigh became seasick during the filming. “The Nelson film is nearly over,” Leigh wrote on November 40, 1941. “We had rushed through it because apparently after Thursday there is no more money! – Alex’s usual predicament.” Perhaps because Europe’s fate was a personal matter for him, That Hamilton Woman has more genuine emotional content – and less ironic detachment – than other Korda films. Alex said making it made him feel twenty years younger. Churchill wept when he saw it.

On September 23, 1942, in top hat and cutaways, the man born Sandor Kellner in Turkeve, Hungary, with a radiant Merle Oberon on his arm, strode up the driveway of Buckingham Palace. A short while later he emerged Sir Alexander Korda, Knight of the Realm. For a Hungarian, a Jew, a refugee, and a member of the movie industry, this was an astonishing honor, beyond even the wildest dreams of Sandor Kellner during the long nights on the Great Plain. David Selznick, Korda’s Hollywood rival, grasped the knighthood’s significance: “The stature it has given the whole business,” Selznick wrote, “and the dignity it has given to the profession of producing, is doubly significant first because it comes in the midst of war, second because it comes from Winston Churchill. . . . Everyone in the business should fell deeply indebted to Korda because his efforts, which have been conducted quietly and without fanfare or publicity have won this honor which should be accepted as an honor to us all."

But Korda’s moment of grace did not satisfy him for long. From Hollywood, he had written Lajos Biro that, like Gulliver, he was condemned to eternal restlessness. Early in 1945, Korda, age fifty-two, suffered his first heart attack – in a very public place, collapsing during dinner at Romanoff’s restaurant, in full view of many Hollywood luminaries. In June of the same year, his marriage to Merle Oberon ended in divorce. He recovered, but there was a new sadness in the man. The actress Joan Fontaine (sister of Olivia de Havilland) remembered dining with Korda sometime after his collapse. “Over and excellent glass of Château Lafite [Alex] warned me. ‘No matter what, Joan, aim for the impossible. If you accomplish all your ambitions, there is nothing left.’ Puzzled, I asked the silver-haired producer what he meant. Holding his glass up to the light, he sighed. ‘I was a poor boy in Hungary when I conceived my dream. . . . I wanted to belong to the most important nation, to become rich, respected, marry the most beautiful woman, be world famous. . . . I’ve done all those things. I became a British subject, I founded my own film company, I owned a yacht, Winston Churchill is my close friend, I married Merle, I was knighted. . . . Now. . . . now I’ve no more dreams left.’ ”

Korda had used himself up. By the 1940s, he was a prematurely old man who could not change his habits. Pale and haggard, Korda no longer quite filled his beautiful suits. An intellectual who dreamed of reading the Greek classics in the original, who quoted Boswell and Baudelaire, Korda’s addiction to power run just as deep. Control was security for a man who had experienced a lifetime of insecurity. When he acquired the ultimate rich man’s toy, his yacht, Elsewhere, he used it not so much for escape, but as a tool of power. Winston Churchill and Graham Greene were his preferred sailing companions, but there was almost always the less congenial presence of a David Selznick or a Sam Goldwyn on board. On one thing they all agreed: there was no one else quite like Korda. Graham Greene described Korda in Loser Takes All: “There was something grand about him, with his mane of white hair, his musician’s head. Where other men collected pictures to escape death duties, he collected for pleasure. For a month at a time he would disappear in his yacht with a cargo of writers and actresses and oddments – a hypnotist, a man who had invented a new rose, or discovered something about the endocrine glands.”

Korda was determined to revive his prewar stature as Britain’s preeminent film mogul. An incorrigible gambler, he bought back London Films from the Prudential Insurance Company. From King George VI’s former residence overlooking Hyde Park, at No. 145 Piccadilly, Korda breathed new life into the company he had founded – and driven into the ground. Michael Korda remembered his uncle playing host to No. 145’s former residents, Their Majesties King and Queen Elizabeth. “Alex was so polished, so gracious,” Korda recalled, “as if he had been raised in a palace himself. He made their majesties feel perfectly at ease.”

What a role: a country boy – a Hungarian Jew – convincingly playing the British lord. He was most in his element, however, with other Hungarians. Not only his brothers, but dozens of other Hungarians were on his payroll, performing mysterious services. “The hangers-on would be asked to handle transfers of money all over the world,” Michael Korda remembered. “Everywhere I went people would say, ‘Ah yes, I knew your uncle,’ in mysterious ways which left much unexplained.” With the breakup of his marriage to Merle Oberon, Korda gave up on domesticity, and resumed his old custom of hotel-living, this time in a suite at Claridge’s in London. From there he attempted to revive his empire. Powell remembered how Korda gathered the best of London around him. “We were asked to dinner not once but often to the fabulous penthouse apartment at the top op Claridge’s where Alex lived and entertained. There were always interesting people at those parties,” Powell wrote. “As for myself, I loved Alex the way I loved the film business. I loved him for his glamour, his good taste, his shrewdness, for the audacity and sheer fun that he got out of manipulating men and millions.”

Few of Korda’s guests could see past the glamour of his life into a certain sadness and emptiness. Paul Tabori, a Hungarian-born author working on a Korda biography, received a call from Alex’s secretary. “I’d take my pajamas [to the interview] if I were you.” Indeed, at around 3:00 A.M., Alex suggested Tabori spend the night, “so we can talk some more in the morning.” Tabori sensed that Korda was lonely. Speaking the language of his youth was consolation."

The Oscar curse

It's official: Kate Winslet has joined the ranks of Hillary Swank, Halle Berry and Reese Witherspoon (among others). And what do these women have in common? An Oscar statue on a shelf and divorce papers in a drawer. It seems the Oscar curse has struck again, as Winslet's divorce from husband (and fellow Oscar winner) Sam Mendes has been announced..

http://abcnews.go.com/Entertainment/kate-winslet-sam-mendes-divorce/story?id=10106916

Villains and evil masterminds with British accents

I've just found an article which affirms my suspicion that there has been a certain tendency to cast actors speaking a British accent in villainous roles. The article itself is brutally biased, a bit anti-American and there are some factual mistakes in it, however, it raises many interesting points. Enjoy with my inserted comments, pictures and links.

Why Villains in Movies Have English Accents

It has often been asked why the bad guy in (chiefly American) movies always speaks with an English accent. The answer has to do with two interlocking concepts: that of stereotype and that of the connotations of the English accent in America.

The Power and Convenience of Stereotypes

Most of the biggest-grossing Hollywood movies, for all their merits, are generally not replete with plotlines driven by unique or complex characters. The age of such productions as Lawrence of Arabia (directed by David Lean!), in which the character of one of the most fascinating men ever to have lived is explored over the course of nearly four hours of film, is decidedly over. Today's moviegoing audiences won't stand for it, and even if they would, the big movie production houses are rarely willing to take the risk. They prefer to populate their movies with characters that are instantly recognisable: The Down-and-out Little Brother, the Amusing Ethnic Guy, and the Tough, Bitchy Battleaxe Who Is Revealed To Be Warm-Hearted At The End, Coming To The Aid Of Our Less Experienced Heroine. These are stereotypes, massive distillations of recognisable trends and tendencies. You may know people like this, but stereotypes have none of the uniqueness that makes the individual. Real battleaxes and ethnic guys you know are real and individual. Stereotypes provide the audience with prepackaged characters, often accessorized with easily recognisable motivations and predictable one-liners, sparing everyone (producers and audience both) the need to develop and understand a unique persona. With the valuable screen minutes thus saved, moviemakers can add more explosions and gratuitous sex scenes.

However, one stereotypical character you've probably never met in real life is the Evil Genius. And this presents a problem for filmmakers.

The English Accent in America

The solution they came up with was admirably clever. Drawing on the legends of such gentlemanly criminals as Edward Pierce, and combining them with the American perception of the English accent⁽¹⁾, the Sophisticated Evil Genius was born, to populate villainous roles in film on countless occasions.

The accent most commonly employed in this manner is received pronunciation (or RP). This and other English accents, and sometimes even Scottish or Welsh accents as well⁽²⁾, in America have a ring of sophistication and intelligence. This association possibly stems from frontier times, when among the rough and tumble talk of the wild west the less altered speak of genteel folks from the east stuck out conspicuously. It may have to do with the general impression of Great Britain as the 'Old World': a place of tradition and schooling and nobility. Also, the concept of the British as the 'old masters' and British influence as an unjust yoke to be thrown off is deeply ingrained in American cultural history. In any case, though most Americans don't know what RP is, it sounds smart to them.

This phenomenon has led to the creative use of accents to be found in Robin Hood movies. Beginning with Errol Flynn's classic portrayal, and leading up to Kevin Costner's laughable (and anachronistic) accent in Prince of Thieves⁽³⁾, Hollywood Robin Hoods have had American accents. The Sheriffs of Nottingham have, naturally, spoken with English accents.

Star Wars: a Case Study

The original Star Wars trilogy⁽⁴⁾ (the pattern continued in the prequels as well) is an interesting case. On the side of evil we have the Empire, whose officers sound quite British. The baddest of the bad, however, is Darth Vader, voiced by James Earl Jones, an American. It is interesting to note, though, that casting Jones was a decision that came late in the film and he merely overdubbed the lines of the British actor who played Darth Vader. Also, Vader was redeemed at the end of  the Return of the Jedi, and imperial officers were not. On the side of good, most of the characters had American accents, including the über-American, space cowboy Han Solo. But there is an exception in the Star Wars movies, as well. Sir Alec Guinness gives the role of Obi-wan Kenobi his most deliciously wise English voice.  (Something Ewan McGregor took on beautifully in later episodes - when asked about how on earth could he manage to give such an exact rendering of the Alec Guiness-style acting, he bruskly retorted, "Well, you know, I'm an actor, that's my job".) He is a remnant of the old order, a mentor guiding our young brash hero, and is still in line with the prevailing stereotypes. (Plus the arch-Sith emperor was played by Scottish actor Ian McDiarmid, who spoke textbook RP, especially before he turned into a rattling frog in Episode 3.)

History of the Villainous Accent in American Film

In previous times, Hollywood stars were American, while character actors came from everywhere else. Your American star carried the film, and never played a villain because it might tarnish their image. The role of the villain was handed to a stock of character actors. Any US actor wanting to be a star some day might avoid the villainous role, whereas British character actors have always been more flexible. The same applied with crossing media. Once an American actor broke into films, it used to be seen as career death to go back to TV, but this limitation was rarely applied to the British.

The English accent in film has had a unique history. The casting of bad guys has often been politically motivated. During the first half of the century, they often had German accents, and during the Cold War, the thrillers of the era naturally had Russian bad guys. However, ever since film has become a popular medium has there been an overt political need to cast Britons as baddies. As mentioned above, the connotations of the accent come from centuries of anti-imperialistic fashionable thought. Even so, modern Americans don't necessarily associate modern Britons with the big, bad Empire of yesteryear. It's the accent that's seen as evil, not the nationality⁽⁵⁾. It has become merely a stereotypical way of indicating the bad guy, a job once done by white and black cowboy hats or the glow of a cigarette in a dark alley.

While some people who speak with British accents in real life find this phenomenon offensive and yet another example of American arrogance, others see it differently. To quote one Researcher:

As an Englishman born and bred I have to say that I'm quite fond of the American tendency to cast my countrymen as the villain of the piece. He might always fall foul of the hero and/or his own devious plots at the end of the film, but he always gets the best lines and brings an impeccable style to the dance that you just can't get with a US accent. Alan Rickman, Charles Dance, Jeremy Irons and many others always steal the scene away from the likes of Kevin Costner, Bruce Willis and Tom Hanks every time.

Some Examples

Please note - the following list contains potential spoilers, as even with the strong signifier that the character is English, the villainy of some of the ones listed below is only revealed as a late twist in the plot.

• Gone in Sixty Seconds (probably Vinnie Jones?)
  
• Tango and Cash (The only thing I remember from this is when Sylvester Stallone spurts in the ugly trugh: "Rambo? Rambo's a pussy". Tell me if you remember any British-sounding characters.)
  
• The Aristocats
• Alan Rickman in Die Hard (a case of an English actor playing a Germanic character with a slight accent), Help! I'm a Fish, Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (this case, an English actor playing an English villain with an English accent is not exactly surprising, the film falls in the pattern of American actors - good guys, British actors - bad guys, though) and Quigley Down Under.
• Anthony Hopkins in The Silence of the Lambs⁽⁶⁾.
• Basil Rathbone in Anna Karenina, David Copperfield, Son of Frankenstein and The Mark of Zorro⁽⁷⁾

• Ben Kingsley in Sneakers (and in Sexy Beast).
• Betty Lou Gerson as the definitive villainess, Cruella De Vil in 101 Dalmatians (see also American actress Glenn Close playing the same role for the live-action remake) (As far as I know, Betty Lou Gerson was also American and I haven't found anything to the contrary).
• Charles Dance in Last Action Hero (and also in the Golden Child, he was playing the devil, eventually outsmarted by Eddie Murphy).
• Christopher Lee in (among many others) Star Wars: Attack of the Clones and The Lord of the Rings Trilogy.

• Claude Rains in Notorious⁽⁸⁾ (Hitchcock!). (This picture is from Casablanca (directed by Hungarian-born director Michael Curtiz), probably his best-known part, where he played the French Captain Renault, but what's surprised me about it was that, after watching Casablanca for like eight times, it never occurred to me that he wasn't French, but, in fact, English. A marvelous "character actor", his roles are well worth watching.)


• David Bowie in Labyrinth and The Last Temptation of Christ (in which all the non-Roman biblical characters are played by Americans). (You may know him better as a composer and musician, but he's actually a good actor, making surprise appearences in key roles of important movies, like this one. Of course you can ponder on whether Pontius Pilate is indeed an evil character, or just... a rationalistic politician. Watch the scene!)
• Dougray Scott in Mission: Impossible 2.
• George Sanders in Rebecca and Walt Disney's The Jungle Book (I think you guessed it already, he was Shere Khan).
• James Mason in North by Northwest (Hitchcock!), Salem's Lot and The Verdict. (Apart from that, he played Humbert Humbert in Stanley Kubrick's 1962 version of Lolita. And many other "protagonists of a decidedly hard-bitten or melancholy stripe" (via imdb).)
  
• Jeremy Irons in Die Hard With a Vengeance (where again, it's an English actor playing a Germanic character), The Lion King (Scar!) and The Time Machine.
• John Lithgow in Cliffhanger and Shrek (American actor hamming as British, though Lithgow has also played his fair share of homegrown villains, too).
• Jonathan Hyde in Jumanji
• Joss Ackland in Lethal Weapon 2 (British actor, South African accent!)
• Pam Ferris in Matilda
• Patrick Stewart in Conspiracy Theory (he is famous for one of his television roles, Captain Jean-Luc Picard in Star Trek: The Next Generation, and his name became identical with science fiction, although he is a versatile actor, appearing in various roles on stage.)
  
• Peter Cushing in Star Wars⁽⁹⁾ (an example of the Imperialism mentioned above being used as short-hand to differentiate between the old order (Jedis and the Empire) and the new (the Rebellion Alliance).
• Pierce Brosnan in Mrs Doubtfire⁽¹⁰⁾.
• Ray Milland in Dial M for Murder (Hitchcock!).
  
• Richard Attenborough in Jurassic Park (although his character in the film version was much more benign and unconsciously dangerous than in the books).
• Sir Ian McKellen in X-Men⁽¹¹⁾
• Steven Berkoff in Beverly Hills Cop.
• Tim Curry in The Rocky Horror Picture Show (alongside Richard O'Brien and Patricia Quinn, both sporting East-European accents) (He's the constant laughable bad guy in B-category American movies, but the Rocky Horror Picture Show is really something. You can learn useful English expressions like time-warp from it.)
  
• Tom Wilkinson in Rush Hour. (And also in Batman Begins!)

To this list, I'd add Ralph Fiennes in Schindler's List and Red Dragon, Gary Oldman in many-many movies, like Dracula, Léon, The Fifth Element, Lost in Space, Hannibal and Peter Sellers in Lolita and Dr. Strangelove. Oh, yes, and Christian Bale, for, for example American Psycho. You may not know that he is Welsh, although in most of his American movies he speaks with an American accent, on which opinions differ.

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¹ Though we use the term 'English' throughout this entry, accents ranging from Scots to Boston Brahmin have been used in this manner.

² The distinction between these is often difficult for American ears to discern.

³ This was later spoofed by Cary Elwes in the film Robin Hood: Men in Tights when he speaks the line 'Unlike some Robin Hoods, I can speak with an English accent!'

⁴ Episodes IV-VI. While Episodes I and II (at time of writing) do present some interesting use of accents that are worthy of analysis, that is beyond the scope of this entry.

⁵ An exception to this use of accents occurs in historical dramas, such as Pocahontas, Braveheart or The Patriot (which all coincidentally star Mel Gibson) in which the British actually are the bad guys.

⁶ Although Hopkins is playing Lecter with an Anglicised American accent, to most he just sounds English. Which is strange, considering he's Welsh

⁷ Though he more than made up for it by playing good guy Sherlock Holmes in lots of movies, too.

⁸ Though the hero, Cary Grant, is also English, his accent is not... quite.

⁹ The first film, later subtitled 'A New Hope'.

¹⁰ An Irish actor 'playing' an Englishman.

¹¹ Here, McKellen continues the tradition of playing Eastern-European characters with a cut-glass English accent, whereas his character in Apt Pupil, former Nazi officer Dussander, has a strong German accent. McKellen's casting in both films was, however, almost certainly down to having a theatrical English knight for the respective parts.

Source: http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/h2g2/A891155

A video summary of the BAFTAs

Look at how Vanessa Redgrave makes a curtsey to Prince William - you'd have to be in England to understand why a well-respected seventy-year-old lady does that to a twenty-something boy.



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The one and only Jason Statham

Pretty convincing :)

Deal is the deal - rule no. 1

I wanted to show this in class but then I figured it's really something you have to take the time to appreciate at home. The Bruce Willis of our modern times.



Impressive CV:

Born in 1972, Jason Statham has done quite a lot in a short time. He has been an Olympic Diver on the British National Diving Team and finished 12th in the World Championships in 1992. He has also been a fashion model, black market salesman and finally of course, actor. He got the audition for his debut role as Bacon in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels (1998) through French Connection, for whom he was modeling. They became a major investor in the film and introduced Jason to Guy Ritchie, who invited him to audition for a part in the film by challenging him to impersonate an illegal street vendor and convince him to purchase fake jewelery. Jason must have been doing something right because after the success of Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels (1998) he teamed up again with Guy Ritchie for Snatch. (2000), with co-stars including Brad Pitt, Dennis Farina and Benicio Del Toro. After Snatch. (2000) came Turn It Up (2000) with US music star Ja Rule, followed by a supporting actor role in the Sci-Fi film Ghosts of Mars (2001), Jet Li's The One (2001) and another screen partnership with Vinnie Jones in Mean Machine (2001) under Guy Ritchie's and Matthew Vaughn's SKA Films. Finally in 2002 he was cast as the lead role of Frank Martin in The Transporter (2002). Jason is also in the summer 2003 blockbuster remake of The Italian Job (1969), The Italian Job (2003), playing Handsome Rob. Read more...

Source: imdb.com