Although he appears in 2007’s Juno for just a few minutes, Rainn Wilson’s quip, “This is one doodle that can’t be un-did, Homeskillet,” which he says to Ellen Page’s title character, became one of the most quoted lines from Diablo Cody’s verbose, hilarious, and Academy Award-winning script. (Page was also nominated for an Oscar for her performance as the pregnant and conflicted protagonist.) After spending a day shooting his scenes for Juno in British Columbia, Wilson, now 45, took Page for a drink and cemented their friendship.
When Wilson, most recognizable for his portrayal of Dwight Schrute on NBC’s hit series The Office, met with filmmaker James Gunn to discuss the latter’s balls-out vigilante tale, a midnight-black comedy called Super, they knew the film needed a strong female lead. They were looking for an “Ellen Page type,” but couldn’t quite decide who that was, so instead of scouring agencies for imitations, they went straight to the source. Wilson, who also appears alongside Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Natalie Portman in this month’s Hesher, emailed the 24-year-old Canadian actor to gauge her interest in playing Libby, a comic book store employee who befriends Frank (Rainn Wilson), a scorned everyman who conceives of Crimson Bolt, the superhero alter ego he adopts in his quest to win back his wife (Liv Tyler). Together, Crimson Bolt and Boltie (Libby’s superhero name) do battle with drug-peddling heavies and a sweetly sickening Kevin Bacon. Bolt attacks his targets with a wrench. Boltie runs people over in her car. It’s all very Sam and Frodo in The Lord of the Rings, but with sex and less hairy feet (hers anyway).
From their homes in Los Angeles, Page and Wilson reminisce about spandex and discover their mutual appreciation for Salt.
Were you at all apprehensive about being in such a violent film? ELLEN PAGE: Even though I have a hard time with violence, I didn’t have any reservations about this film. It doesn’t always seep into my brain that—[The sound of a chiming bell indicates that Rainn Wilson has been connected to the conference call.] Fancy you showing up.
RAINN WILSON: I always get on conference calls four minutes late, because it’s not so late that it pisses people off, but it’s just late enough to show how important I am. What are you guys talking about?
We were just acknowledging the violence in Super. RW: I was talking to a friend the other day about that movie with John Cusack where the world gets destroyed—2012? In it, something like five or six billion people die, and it’s the most preposterous thing you’ve ever seen in your life, but no one really talked about the violence in that movie. They just talk about the special effects. In Super, about 11 people die and a few get bashed in the head, but people are so freaked out by the violence. The reason why the violence doesn’t bother me is because I think the movie makes a statement about violence, which has to do with this world where we’re like, Are these people insane or are they heroes? What’s the difference between a vigilante and a superhero? What are the real effects of violence? I don’t want to give anything away, but with Ellen’s adorable character, we really see the consequences of people trying to play superhero. Without the violence, the movie would feel false.
EP: When I did Hard Candy, which is also a vigilante movie, I was constantly getting comments about the violence. Men would chuckle and say, “I don’t want to go anywhere near you!” But every time you turn on the news women are being raped, murdered, and left in dumpsters. It’s the beginning of every Law & Order episode. I don’t know how this happened, but I watched Salt last night, and, sweet Jesus, that lady kills a lot of people. She is just constantly killing people.
RW: In Salt, she blows away 347 people, but it’s a movie about how badass Angelina Jolie looks in leather pants. The camera doesn’t linger on the smoldering, decimated skulls of the people she’s just killed, and it doesn’t show the families weeping at their funerals.
You know who could die in Super without too many tears? Kevin Bacon’s character. RW: I was 11 years old when I first saw him in Animal House, and he’s always been so memorable in—[A beeping noise indicates that someone has been dropped from the call.]
Did Ellen just hang up? Maybe she didn’t feel like talking about Kevin Bacon. RW: Let’s just come out and say it: Kevin Bacon broke her heart. Seriously, though, I think his characterization is unlike anything we’ve ever seen him play before. He’s so sleazy and charming, and you really just want to put a gun in his mouth. [The chiming bell indicates that Page has been reconnected to the conference call.]
EP: Sorry, sorry! I got knocked off! I’m a huge Kevin Bacon fan—I think any self-respecting person is a Kevin Bacon fan—although I didn’t get to work with him in this movie and I’ve never met him. But I still think I’ve earned the right to say there are zero degrees of separation between us since we’re in the same movie.
Along with Kick-Ass, Super exemplifies a larger trend in film, one that ignores big-budget superhero epics in favor of smaller pictures about regular guys who take it upon themselves to fight crime. Why do you think that is? RW: There are so many superhero films coming out, and there are more and more on the way because they’ve proven to be box-office gold. Get a young star with six-pack abs and put him in a tight outfit, then tell audiences the story of how he discovered he was a superhero and watch the magic happen. Super is a reaction to that. It’s like the real Watchmen, or the underbelly of the superhero tale. Superheroes are like the myths of our time, like our Greek gods, but the way studios package these stories for 14-year-old boys isn’t all that true to their roots.
Having worked together, however briefly, in Juno, was it easier to share scenes in Super? EP: When I trust someone, I’m better able to uninhibitedly pour myself into a character. Rainn and I have a sex scene in the movie that’s kind of delicate—well, not delicate in the way it’s acted out, but delicate for an actor to shoot. I don’t immediately connect to being a sexual predator, so it felt especially strange for me, but it’s so easy when you’re working with someone like Rainn. He takes the craft very seriously, but he doesn’t take himself very seriously. I’m crazy about the guy to the extent that he’s someone I miss, and you don’t always miss, or stay in touch with, your costars.
You two recently joked on Twitter that you’d consider co-starring in a remake of The Bodyguard. What would that version look like? RW: In my low-rent version of The Bodyguard, Ellen Page is the lead singer of a punk band, let’s say Sleater-Kinney, and I’m the doorman at a place like…
EP: Echoplex? Spaceland?
RW: Spaceland! I’m the doorman at Spaceland and she’s a singer in a punk band. I realize that some jilted ex-lover of hers is planning to take her out, but I don’t have a gun or a walkie-talkie in my earbud. All I have as a weapon is…
A clipboard? RW: Yes, that’s right! I’d defend her honor, we’d fall in love, and then we’d make love all night, surround by coyotes, up by the Silver Lake Reservoir tower. EP: It’ll be just like the original, but mixed with a little (500) Days of Summer.
Almost everything we say or do is documented and archived online. You’re both computer-literate, obviously, and so I’m curious to know if you read what’s written about you on blogs. EP: I read some stuff, but not in any OCD manner. My relationship with the internet comes and goes. I think it’s kind of rad that I get to be alive during a time when there’s all this new shit that’s super-relevant and changing things—like YouTube, which made that little kid from Canada ridiculously famous. Who knows if all of this technology is healthy or unhealthy, or what the fuck it all means, but it’s fascinating and I’m curious about it.
RW: When I first created my Twitter account, I read all of the @replies I got. When I started getting known for The Office, I’d read what people were saying on the IMDb message boards, but I got so bummed out by all the negative stuff. Say there’s an online clip of me doing something. If someone enjoys that clip, they’re not going to write anything. It’s only angry, unemployed screenwriters or teenagers from Des Moines with pencils in their butts who anonymously write their hate screeds. My life is so much better than reading about why some pimply fan of the English version of The Office hates me.
EP: As an actor, there came a time in my life when people were suddenly writing about me, which is a weird transition unto itself, realizing that my name somehow resonates with random people I’ve never met. That’s still such a weird concept to me. I’ve read insanely horrible things about myself on the internet, which can be really overwhelming when you’re 21 and it’s about things that are extremely, invasively personal. At one point someone wrote that he would rape me, and I think that’s when I was like, Um, okay, I’m now done reading these things.
RW: Ellen… that was me.
But he feels really bad about it. RW: I’m sorry!
When did you two become friends? EP: I wouldn’t necessarily call us friends. RW: I only spent one day on the set of Juno, but Ellen and I had a great time together. I was such a huge fan of hers because she’s so funny and low-key and real. After that, we stayed in touch. EP: And then we became butt buddies! RW: On set, whenever one of us shouted “butt buddies,” we had to find each other and jump up and down, rubbing our butts together. There’s nothing like butt cheeks and spandex, rubbing up against each other in a friendly, butt buddy kind of way.
Sounds like a Platonic hoot! EP: Who said anything about Platonic?