Sporadic Thoughts: Oh Look, It’s Tom Again

The quiet cost of Hollywood’s safest bets

I like Tom Hanks. This isn’t personal.

But by my count, Tom has starred in—or supplied his voice for—45 movies since the year 2000. That means 45 movies in roughly 25 years.

So we’ve been served up, since the turn of the century, a new Tom Hanks movie every 200 days. And by the way, Toy Story 5 will be out soon.

I’m using the very popular Mr. Hanks simply as an example. If you’re a fan of Mark Wahlberg, you’ve got even more to choose from. He’s starred in 49 movies in the last 25 years. You get a dose of him every 186 days.

You think THAT’S impressive? Since the year 2000, Samuel L. Jackson has starred in 98 movies. Yes, 98 movies in 25 years. That means Sam shows up in your local movie theater every 93 days. For a quarter of a century.

The Business of Familiarity

If it seems to you like almost every movie features the same actors, over and over again, it’s because they do. You know how Hollywood works, right? If a movie does well, we get at least five sequels, maybe more.

If a genre pops, studios will rush out a dozen films that cater to that genre’s fans. Good or bad, doesn’t matter—just get ‘em out there.

And yes, if an actor shows any sign of box office success, they’re offered every role a studio can find for them. “Oh, people like this Mark Wahlberg guy? Gotta get him in five films in the next two years.”

So basically, it’s just good business sense. I understand that.

At the same time, am I the only person who can no longer believe Tom Hanks in any role? When I watch, for example, a British detective show on BritBox, and I have never seen the actors before, they ARE the character to me. I buy into them entirely.

But when Tom Hanks shows up on screen, my mind says: Oh, that’s Tom as an airline pilot. Hey, that’s Tom as a politician. Oh, look, now Tom Hanks is Elvis’s manager.

I don’t see Colonel Tom Parker. I see Tom Hanks.

And it isn’t just Tom and Mark and Samuel. Scarlett Johansson has appeared in roughly three dozen films over the past 25 years. Robert Downey Jr. is in roughly that same ballpark. So is Dwayne Johnson. So is Jennifer Lawrence.

Different genres, different styles, maybe—but the same steady drumbeat of familiarity. One recognizable face after another, year after year.

Why is this important? Maybe it isn’t. It’s just a Sporadic Thought.

But I think it’s a valid one.

The Risk That Made a Legend

There are thousands of terrific actors out there, of all ages, who never catch the big break. I’m sure many of them are just as talented as Tom Hanks or Samuel L. Jackson or Meryl Streep.

But they get passed over for roles because Mark Wahlberg is a good bet at the box office—so the unknown performer goes back to another audition.

Again, I know you love Meryl Streep and you love Bradley Cooper, and you should. They’re truly fantastic at what they do.

But for the sake of the character, don’t you think sometimes it’s good to throw a face in there that we don’t already know? Someone who, for those two hours, will completely make us believe they are that truck driver, or that gangster, or that cop?

Does it always have to be the same recycled actors every time? Between the three examples I listed at the top—and there are many more—in 25 years there have been 192 movies starring either Hanks, Wahlberg, or Jackson. In other words, you can’t go more than six weeks without one of them.

While other actors, some remarkably talented, wait their turn. If given a chance, they might turn out to be insanely good.

Hey, there’s a legendary story that director Francis Ford Coppola had to fight the studio for weeks over his decision to cast a basically unknown stage actor to play the part of Michael Corleone in “The Godfather.” The studio wanted, as usual, a big name.

Instead, they were forced to put up with Coppola’s decision to cast some guy named Al Pacino—who promptly picked up an Academy Award nomination for his performance.

Discovery Versus Safety

This could very well be my least popular Sporadic Thought. People are strangely loyal to their sports stars, their music stars, and certainly their movie stars. I can hear it now: “But I LIKE Robert Downey Jr.!”

Sigh. I know. I do, too.

Maybe this is just nostalgia for discovery—the feeling of watching someone you’ve never seen before and believing them completely. Not Dwayne Johnson playing a helicopter pilot. Just a pilot.

Hollywood isn’t built for that anymore. It’s built for safety, familiarity, and opening-weekend math. And I get it.

Still, every once in a while, it would be nice to believe again.

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Dom Testa writes fiction and nonfiction, and although he once had screen time as an extra (Things to Do in Denver When You’re Dead, 1995), he’s never starred in a major motion picture—which may explain this entire essay.

Find most of his work at DomTestaBooks.com.