Cameron Diaz burst into the scene as Tina Carlyle in 1994’s “The Mask,” which quickly became one of the highest-grossing films of the year, thanks to pitch-perfect performances by the leads. Diaz’s ability to hold her own opposite Jim Carrey emerged as a testimony in favor of her talents, which she channeled into the string of roles that succeeded her promising debut. Comedy and drama are undoubtedly Diaz’s strongest suits: the actor knows exactly how to make a joke land while grounding the narrative with her innate charm, as exemplified by her performance in “There’s Something About Mary,” which earned her a Golden Globe nomination.
This, of course, doesn’t mean that Diaz did not excel in roles that demand a more nuanced approach to a character. Cameron Crowe’s divisive, yet intriguing “Vanilla Sky” puts the actor in a unique position to play someone deeply hurt and obsessed, who lashes out in the most extreme ways when their hopes and dreams are shattered. Although the film was criticized for its meandering plot, which demands quite a bit of patience from the viewer, critics praised Diaz’s turn as Julie Gianni, who hounds, torments, and haunts Tom Cruise’s hollow, narcissistic David Aames across worlds.
Then, there are the movies that launched Diaz into superstardom, namely 2000’s “Charlie’s Angels,” 2001’s “Shrek” (where she voiced Princess Fiona), and a supporting role in Martin Scorsese’s epic period drama, “Gangs of New York.” However, the best film starring Cameron Diaz, at least according to Rotten Tomatoes, is the Spike Jonze-helmed “Being John Malkovich,” which is currently sitting at 94% on the Tomatometer.
Cameron Diaz is brilliant and unrecognizable in Being John Malkovich
Jonze and writer Charlie Kaufman create a wonderfully surreal experience in “Being John Malkovich,” to the point that the Malkovich of it all seeps into every frame of the film (as intended), and underlines how impossible it is to escape who we truly are. Can art offer us solace during such tough times? Sure, to an extent, yes, but the artist’s psyche inevitably flows into the heart of their piece, and as exemplified in some of the most classic, bizarre sequences in the film: when you gaze into the abyss, it is bound to stare back. In this case, it is an endless number of people with Malkovich’s face staring back into the eyes of the titular character/actor.
When Lotte (Diaz) is introduced, our perception of her is framed through Craig (John Cusack), who has already developed an attraction for a coworker and treats his wife with cursory kindness and affection. Her presence is almost peripheral, and we never get a full, meaningful glimpse into Lotte until she decides to inhabit John Malkovich and experience what it is like to escape the expectations attached to her “duties” as a wife and a woman. This is when the illusion of outwardly contentment shatters, and we see Lotte in her full glory: her desires, her wants, her discontentments, her rage, and how Craig is often the reason behind her simmering unhappiness.
There is a chunk of the film that is meant to be humorous, and the absurdity of the central situation ends up overpowering all else, but it is impossible to miss the subtle sincerity inherent in Diaz’s Lotte. There’s humor here too, but the earnestness is so endearing that we immediately want her to get whatever she desires, as her empathy is a stark contrast to Craig’s self-centered nature, and firmly roots her as the moral center in a film with such an unpredictable axis. Even when the madness of “Being John Malkovich” takes over, and Lotte is not on-screen, her actualized desires give us reason for catharsis. At least someone has escaped the cycle of neglect and discontent, and this time, it is someone worthy.
