For those who missed Glenn's superb acting/star turn in the recent commercial for Masters swimming, you can view it here.
One of the things that I admire so much about Glenn's style, and has really made him an "actor's actor" to those of us who take our thesbianism seriously, is how understated his role here--and how powerful it becomes as a consequence.
Glenn understands what all the greats have understood: a whisper attracts more attention than a shout, or, in Brando's case, a mumble.
As Glenn himself describes his work in this commercial:
It is very easy to miss me. I am shown right after the swimmer in the bathroom gets zipped up and gives a high five. I am out of focus on the left hand side of the screen. Luckily there is a freeze and frame by frame mode on the QT version of the video.
Thanks,
Glenn Gruber
Very easy to miss you? I say, Ha! You, Mr. Gruber, have redefined the power of understatement. From this day forward, when I search for a verb to describe a way of acting that smashes the viewer with subtlety, I shall simply say, "The actor Grubered me!"
Good show.
And now...the good show:
YouTube - SwimTV MASTER comp
PS if you recognize yourself and/or any of the other actors in this commercial, please identify yourself. I was particularly smitten by the actress who did the land flip turn and would like to join your fan club. Ditto for the breaststroker in the shopping cart.
Careful, Leonard. A certain Mr. R.K., Esquire, may be lurking, find your comments objectionable, and file a class action suit on behalf of the citizens of the Isle of Thesbos, which is where, incidentally, I caught my own acting bug.
I went on to play a sailor dying of scurvy in the Sewickley Academy's 5th Grade production, Magellan!, in 1963.
And I then went on, in 1975, to star as a zombie in a slightly oversized Brooks Brothers suit (with the smell of stockbroker panic in the armpits), clutching the Wall Street Journal (extremely prophetic, I might add!) in George Romaro's unforgettable second part of his triptych: Dawn of the Dead (the sequel to Night of the Living and prequel to Day of the Dead movies, respectively.)
I am pretty sure there is now a Sandals resort on the Isle of Thesbos, which is where, presumably, Glenn learned his own mad skills.
Note: after my own two films were finished, I retired--why risk a bomb after two such classic roles? Still, I miss it. I am looking for a new challenging role to tackle. Perhaps, sort of like Cliff Robertson's epic Charlie, I could attempt the Paul Smith Story--about a politically "challenged" man who temporarily finds enlightement, then tragically as the medication wears off resorts to his profoundly retarded view of the world?
I preminisce no dry ducts in the film house--and a small golden statuette of a bald headed man that I can set upon the starting blocks of all my subsequent swimming matches.
Careful, Leonard. A certain Mr. R.K., Esquire, may be lurking, find your comments objectionable, and file a class action suit on behalf of the citizens of the Isle of Thesbos, which is where, incidentally, I caught my own acting bug.
I went on to play a sailor dying of scurvy in the Sewickley Academy's 5th Grade production, Magellan!, in 1963.
And I then went on, in 1975, to star as a zombie in a slightly oversized Brooks Brothers suit (with the smell of stockbroker panic in the armpits), clutching the Wall Street Journal (extremely prophetic, I might add!) in George Romaro's unforgettable second part of his triptych: Dawn of the Dead (the sequel to Night of the Living and prequel to Day of the Dead movies, respectively.)
I am pretty sure there is now a Sandals resort on the Isle of Thesbos, which is where, presumably, Glenn learned his own mad skills.
Note: after my own two films were finished, I retired--why risk a bomb after two such classic roles? Still, I miss it. I am looking for a new challenging role to tackle. Perhaps, sort of like Cliff Robertson's epic Charlie, I could attempt the Paul Smith Story--about a politically "challenged" man who temporarily finds enlightement, then tragically as the medication wears off resorts to his profoundly retarded view of the world?
I preminisce no dry ducts in the film house--and a small golden statuette of a bald headed man that I can set upon the starting blocks of all my subsequent swimming matches.
