Is it at all possible to graduate in drama at Boston, starring in almost eighty films, win an Oscar (Still Alice, 2015) after several nominations, several Golden Globes, a couple Emmys, and, cherry on top, being the second actress after Juliette Binoche to win Best Actress awards at the Big Three film festivals (Berlin, Cannes, and Venice)? And given all that, is it possible to be one of the least gossipped and ostentatious characters in Hollywood? Some are born a lady. Julianne Moore was.
There’s so much to her. Over three decades, she worked with Robert Altman, Steven Spielberg, James Ivory, Ridley Scott, Atom Egoyan, just to name a few, as well as for the filmmaker she became an icon to: Todd Haynes. Moore starred in five of Haynes’ features.
Upon reading the list of directors she worked with, one cannot help but notice how she often plays characters of great emotional intensiveness, though also of great detachment. This is quite unusual for actresses. Also notable is her comfort – at least for a person who so fiercely defends her privacy — with nude scenes, which she did in Altman’s Short Cuts, or with roles such as that of porn actress, which she did in Boogie Nights.
We love the way she flaunts her red hair, and how she sees no reason to take shelter in frontal close-ups, showing beautifully her non-classical profile, a very peculiar one. She is such an exemplary professional. We couldn’t wait to have her in Venice in Pedro Almodóvar’s latest feature.
The already strained relationship between Martha (Swinton) and her daughter shatters due to a misunderstanding that will permanently separate the two women. Ingrid (Moore), a bestselling author, witnesses this painful family feud. During a stay in a house surrounded by nature ...
While Harrison Ford and Tommy Lee Jones play the title role and the U.S. Marshal after him, respectively, a minute woman pops up between the two giants, piercing eyes and piercing jokes.
The parable of pornos in the golden years of disco music. Paul Thomas Anderson’s touch doesn’t make it at all easier to play the part of a coke-addict porn actress.
The Coen Brothers’ team of obsolete oddballs welcome among them an apparently minor character that is – arguably – the craziest of all.
Her again, in a human interest story that is painful, distressing, diverse, and loud. An almost aethereal figure, barely visible, but what a stand-out!
Tom Ford’s feature debut shows one of her typical feminine figures: quiet, determined, and irremovable in her impossible love.
