Jared Harris Has to Eat Too

Maybe I just take this personally because I've been nursing a years-long crush on Jared Harris (I have an accent-and-waistcoat fetish) but it's been pretty grim watching Harris take not only roles in what look to be stupid movies, but also the stupidest roles available in said movies. He was already in last week's widely panned The Mortal Instruments: City of Bones and he's also posed to be in next year's sand-and-sandal epic Pompeii (watch the astoundingly derivative trailer here) as a snobby antagonist senator.

So he's basically signed up to be the third-string villain in a Marvel movie.

Now we find out that he's going to be in the remake of Poltergeist, as the ubiquitous paranormal expert who appears, then halts the pace of, just about every PG-13 piece of studio Hollywood horror I can think of. The third-act paranormal researcher gumming up American horror movies is already a trope I can't stand, but this is tied up with a trope I hate even more: the respectable British actor with genuine talent who, for reasons only the American subconscious can explain, plays a bit part of either generic educated eccentric or historical figure, is as generic as the soundstage he's sitting on, collects a paycheck, and leaves.

I'm already writing off the Poltergeist remake after looking at the folks behind it. The producers involved are already practiced veterans of mass-produced, forgettable horror movies (The Grudge, The Strangers, and The Possession were all their fault). The exception in the bunch is Sam Raimi, who's still on my hit list after a bleak 2013. He's also bringing along his scriptwriter David Lindsay, who wrote Oz the Great and Powerful. Because the script of Oz was so memorable.

I know Mr. Harris has a mortgage and I don't doubt that these big-studio roles pay better than parts in smaller, meatier movies -- but come on, buddy, make like your dad and be a star. It's been too long since I've seen Lane Bryce beat up Pete Campbell, struggle with his friendship and crush on married Joan Harris, and ultimately succumb to the pressure of his own pride and guilt. Come on, Jared. Be in a movie I'll like.

Rise to the occasion, you sweaty British badass.

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