A Mash Note from the Toronto Film Festival: Alas, Poor Viggo

When I am sleepless in my Toronto hotel room, my thoughts turn to Viggo Mortensen. And, perhaps unlike other women at the film festival, I pity poor Viggo. Sure, like them, I would easily opt for Viggo over Clive Owen, who's also somewhere here in Canada, undoubtedly at a better hotel and, perhaps, still awake behind the barriers at an exclusive party.

I know it's counterintuitive to pity Viggo in the dark. I saw his sinewy, tattooed, naked Russian mobster Nikolai in David Cronenberg's brilliant Eastern Promises. My visceral reaction was to tear off my clothes and rush toward the screen - equally naked, tattoo-free, bravely baring two c-section scars. Wouldn't that have startled Roger Ebert!

But here's the thing: Viggo has set the sexual bar so high, he must feel compelled to perform like a prize athlete, like Lance Armstrong, every night (or twilight, as the case might be). It's a burden to have to have such champion sex. How would he, could he manage the simpler sex of everyday marriage? Would he be able to do 'honey, I'm 38 and ovulating, and we'd better just fertilize my old egg this time or we're off to the fertility clinic?'

Imagine the Mortensen mortification in confessing that he was just knackered that night - and in no mood to perform Herculean sex. Could he offer up the virtual keys to his partner, wearily urging her to get on top, take the wheel and sex-drive, while he semi-dozed below? Would he be able to say: 'sweetie, just don't dent the vehicle, please, I have an early shoot?'

Or could he manage the Sunday brunch clutch in front of the big-screen TV between Meet the Press and the ball-game; fumbling for, finding and removing the remote control from under his wife's ribs when the TV starts to sizzle on some unauthorized channel?

It's as if anything less than the rip-snorting scene in A History of Violence would be too little, too late. I breathe deep with the memory of that startling conjugal moment, where Viggo's retired enforcer passionately, brutally bangs his wife (the aroused but frightened Maria Bello) on the narrow stairs of their house. He leaves her bruised and battered and satisfied in corners of her being she didn't know existed until that moment. I confess to uncrossing my legs and craving a cigarette afterwards.

But, Viggo, I'm fully aware that wildly imaginative, athletic, earth-shattering sex is a lot to live up to on a daily basis. I have seen you on screen wearing only your gulag tattoos and, like so many other women, wanted more, more than any average mortal man can give.

So, I pity you, but would show no more mercy than your Nikolai dispatching with a corpse. Don't think for a moment in my fantasies we do anything as mundane as shutting our Russian novels in unison, placing them on identical bedside tables, and falling into each other in the familiar valley at the center of our marital bed.

OK, I wouldn't refuse that either. Pity me.

Comments

[lunaoscura]

Yup! I know what you mean. But I would be happy with a long warm cuddle, sans sex too. And some on top is fine with moi.

[cinemaven]

I've always been one of those people who obey the "don't touch" signs in museums or shops. I've only bowed to irresitable temptation once and that was in Toronto at the LOTR exhibit at Casa Loma in Dec. of 2001. The actual costumes were there as were many of the set pieces and weapons. It was the most amazing exhibit and I managed to be hands off on everything until I came to the leather ranger outfit worn by Viggo. The tour guide explained that he'd worn it 24/7 before the shooting of the first movie to give it an authentic grubby/sweaty look. He slept and bathed in it.... she led the group on to other parts of the exhibit and I just stood there unable to move. When the coast was clear, I ran my hand over the leather. Couldn't help myself.

I'm not one who gets all mooney over a movie star but there's something about Mortensen that's just pure heat. That voice, that intelligence, that ass... I'll be seeing Eastern Promises. I just wish I'd have made it into the city to see it at the Festival.

[EW]

Really? While I must admit I really wished I were Maria Bello in that moment, for me the absolute, "I must have Viggo" moment was in "The Two Towers". After a tumble off a cliff he is rescued by the horse Brego, later when those two spy Helms Deep then ride towards it, there's Viggo, sitting the trot beautifully, bareback, over rough terrain all the while keeping the horse forward and collected, well let's just say my imagination of what else he's capable of sitting...

Aside from the fact he's a fine equestrian and actor, he'sa really politically progressive man. His politics are different from the, dare I say, "typical Hollywood liberal", he's more to the left which I find very appealing, along with pretty much everything else about him.

Loved the post!

[ruchild]

OMG, I loved this! You have taken most of the words out of my head and put them on paper, well except for the c-section scars, but it is basically what anyone with a sex drive would be thinking. Thank you for putting word to screen and giving me a laugh and even more reason to go see this movie (as I was intending to anyway, it is a Cronenberg movie!) any chance to see Mr. Mortensen au natural even killing someone is more than worth the price of admission, but I'd pay to see him fully clothed as well, his acting chops are THAT good!

[macfee]

As good a review as I have every read. Cronenberg and Mortensen can make movies. Look forward to reading more of your work.