Ask James Gandolfini what New Yorker — living or dead — he would like to play in a movie, and he thinks for a while. Then he answers with a chuckle: "Ed Koch."
Gandolfini has already played a mayor of New York in last year's remake of "The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3." It was one in a series of supporting roles that seemed designed to take him, in baby steps, away from his most famous character, Tony Soprano.
Now he's back on screens in a very different role altogether, a morose businessman with a subtle Southern twang who finds salvation on a business trip to New Orleans. He shares the screen with a New Yorker who knows a thing or two about immersing herself in a role, Melissa Leo.
The film is "Welcome to the Rileys," directed by Jake Scott, son of director Ridley. Gandolfini and Leo are the title couple, driven to the edge of sanity by the death of their teenage daughter. Doug Riley throws himself into work. Lois Riley stays in the house all day — unable to venture even to the end of the drive¬way to collect her mail. When he goes South and meets a down-on-her-luck stripper ("Twilight's" Kristen Stewart), an odd kind of healing begins.
"It was different from the other things I've played," says Gandolfini. "It wasn't violent. I didn't die. I wasn't a maniac. So that's always good."
Gandolfini has already played a mayor of New York in last year's remake of "The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3." It was one in a series of supporting roles that seemed designed to take him, in baby steps, away from his most famous character, Tony Soprano.
Now he's back on screens in a very different role altogether, a morose businessman with a subtle Southern twang who finds salvation on a business trip to New Orleans. He shares the screen with a New Yorker who knows a thing or two about immersing herself in a role, Melissa Leo.
The film is "Welcome to the Rileys," directed by Jake Scott, son of director Ridley. Gandolfini and Leo are the title couple, driven to the edge of sanity by the death of their teenage daughter. Doug Riley throws himself into work. Lois Riley stays in the house all day — unable to venture even to the end of the drive¬way to collect her mail. When he goes South and meets a down-on-her-luck stripper ("Twilight's" Kristen Stewart), an odd kind of healing begins.
"It was different from the other things I've played," says Gandolfini. "It wasn't violent. I didn't die. I wasn't a maniac. So that's always good."
Leo had a similar reaction to the script. After earning an Oscar nomination for her tough-as-nails role in "Frozen River," she'd been looking to reconnect with her softer side.
"She really is outside the regular lexicon of folks I do," she says of Lois. "There's something still and quiet — and upper middle class — about her."
Gandolfini and Leo have more in common than an observer might guess. She was born in New York City, he in New Jersey, and they both got their start here. Both hit the stride of their careers later in life — he just turned 49 and she 50. He lives in Manhattan, and she has lived for the past 20-odd years in what she calls "a pretty little house on the edges of the Catskills."
Talking to the two is like talking to New Yorkers you'd meet on the sidewalk. He's miffed about the end of the New York-New Jersey tunnel project. She feels nostalgic about the closing of St. Vincent's Hospital, where she was born. They are a rare kind of celebrity: gifted character actors who might have spent an entire career on the fringes of entertainment. Except that these two made it big.
" 'Character actor' used to mean that older actor who played the funny grandpa," says Leo. "I've always thought of myself as a character actor, because I put character first." She pauses before adding, "Not 'cause I'm quirky, although that's an open discussion."
"She really is outside the regular lexicon of folks I do," she says of Lois. "There's something still and quiet — and upper middle class — about her."
Gandolfini and Leo have more in common than an observer might guess. She was born in New York City, he in New Jersey, and they both got their start here. Both hit the stride of their careers later in life — he just turned 49 and she 50. He lives in Manhattan, and she has lived for the past 20-odd years in what she calls "a pretty little house on the edges of the Catskills."
Talking to the two is like talking to New Yorkers you'd meet on the sidewalk. He's miffed about the end of the New York-New Jersey tunnel project. She feels nostalgic about the closing of St. Vincent's Hospital, where she was born. They are a rare kind of celebrity: gifted character actors who might have spent an entire career on the fringes of entertainment. Except that these two made it big.
" 'Character actor' used to mean that older actor who played the funny grandpa," says Leo. "I've always thought of myself as a character actor, because I put character first." She pauses before adding, "Not 'cause I'm quirky, although that's an open discussion."
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