The Meg Ryan Syndrome

You know Meg Ryan, the permanently spunky, never-aging ingenue of many a romantic comedy. And boy, does she know how to deliver those lines and somehow make us believe in a chemistry that really doesn’t exist with her leading men. But we believe it does, because she is always so honest, so forthright, so… Meg Ryan. If you were asked which actress you wanted to play the leading lady in, say, a romantic comedy, there really was no debate (until Sandra Bullock came along, that is). It was either Meg Ryan, or you take your chances with the “others,” whomever they might be, who weren’t as good as Meg Ryan. Now, think about the last movie you saw Meg Ryan do that wasn’t a romantic comedy. Stuck? Of course, because Meg Ryan has fallen into the trap too many actors and actresses let themselves get caught up in. They are so good in one genre that they let that genre define them for so long until it’s too late to change, or too difficult a hill to climb. They’ve been typecast, and that’s what I call the Meg Ryan syndrome.

Now, typecasting doesn’t just happen with actors. Believe me. When Chris Cornell, lead singer for the grunge band Soundgarden, decided he wanted to work with a rap producer and created what could only be defined as a hip-hop record, the reaction was decidedly negative from the media and from the fans. The problem he ran into was that fans of his band only wanted to hear grunge rock, and fans of hip-hop wanted to hear their signature artists, not some crossover bandleader with an identity crisis. The ironic thing about it all is that the record is actually a very good one, straddling the line between both worlds rather industriously. Sadly, not many people will give themselves the chance to appreciate it because they never listened to it.

Typecasting is easy to do when someone is so good at what they do. Variety is key to avoiding it.

It happens in the sports world too. The best basketball player ever, at the height of his skills, decided to take a detour and try his hand at another sport he’s always loved. Yes, Michael Jordan had his nearly two-year stint as a minor league baseball player, and he trained really hard for it. He was determined to leave it all out there, and the media was fascinated with the attempt. Then, when he failed at it, they were quick to hit him with the statistics, but if you looked at and listened to Michael Jordan at the end of that run, he was nothing but happy. He knew he had done what he wanted, and given it his all. Maybe for him the Meg Ryan syndrome was accurate, but at least he did his best to break the pattern. Of course, he then went back to basketball and won three more championships. Of course.

Other actors are typecast the most, though, it seems. Molly Ringwald was the hit of the ’80s, with three massive films that showcased her ability to be “everygirl,” and girls everywhere identified with her, the teenage misfit, or the teenage queen, but always with issues that she had to work through. In The Breakfast Club, Pretty in Pink, and, the best film of the three, Sixteen Candles, she impressed greatly, but by the end of those movies she had nowhere else to go. Indeed, she has only been seen sporadically in movies and on TV since. When most people speak of her, they speak of those three movies, and the character type she embodied in them. That’s the ultimate typecasting. Another actor who fits the bill is Jason Statham. He’s an action star along the lines of other typecast actors like Jean-Claude Van Damme and Sylvester Stallone. It’s what he does well in films like The Bank Job, The Transporter, and Crank. He enjoys beating the crap out of people, but what happens when he wants to do a love story, a comedy, or a deep drama? You guessed it. It’s probably not going to happen.

Now, there are some out there who have been typecast but have also somehow broken out of it. Think about Robin Williams, who walked that line and somehow survived. Movies like Death to Smoochy, Bicentennial Man, and Photo Booth helped to break through that “strictly comedy” screen he had built up around himself early on. Now he can play many “straight” roles and you’re not thinking he needs to be funny. This is also true of Tom Hanks, who followed a similar career path before he did Philadelphia and showed he had more range, and people decided to go there with him (so much so that he won an Academy Award for the film).

But Meg Ryan, I really only want to see her in romantic comedies. She makes me smile, even if it’s all a part of the syndrome.

Sam