Jim· 喵· Caviezel【中英】1999/06/20 - The Unexpected Star -- Jim Caviezel's Stubborn Sincerity Cuts A Swath Through Hollywood
翻译: Jenny1700649 (摘自时光网)
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”意想不到的明星——吉姆•卡维泽以顽固的真诚闯荡好莱坞“
作者：理查德·瑟文，发表于1999年6月20日
乍看之下，吉姆·卡维泽海蓝色的大眼睛似乎不仅仅是一个电影明星必需的工具。
他们就像新车的油漆般闪亮，而这辆新车的生产线是印象主义二战影片 “红色警戒线（The Thin
Red Line）”。卡维泽在影片中扮演肯塔基出生的士兵威特，一个存在主义者（这一点我不敢苟同，一个把自己生命之至于度外的人会是存在主义者？）。该片把默默无闻的卡维泽捧成了明星。
威特在片中长久地站立着，就像战场上的一道辉光，凝视和浸泡在战争的混乱中。在一个震撼的场景中，他仅用自己的目光就在15秒钟内表达了惊愕，恐惧，无助，到欢乐和平这一系列变化。
他的外表总是很引人注意，至少从1987年他还在华盛顿州Burien的肯尼迪中学念高中时起，当时他曾被选为“眼睛最漂亮的男孩”。
但是这双眼睛不仅仅是一个漂亮男孩的道具。走近看，你会看到他们在真诚地回视，并表白着男孩的感情，预示着他会从家乡史盖基山谷远走高飞。
实际上，30岁的卡维泽发现自己成为好莱坞明星的原因之一恰恰是因为他根本不像个好莱坞演员。
他有一种孩子般的好奇心，这种好奇心会驱使他向阿尔·帕奇诺，魔术师约翰森或任何引起他注意的陌生人做自我介绍。当谈起自己的天主教信仰、以及不会让先天缺 陷放慢自己的脚步或者名誉改变自己的决心时，他的脸会泛红。他是直接和激烈的，有一次试演一个凶险的混蛋时把一个选角的导演给吓坏了，“我没得到那个角色 ”他回忆说。
他可以礼貌得出奇，但也有正义的脾气。一次和妻子凯莉在洛杉矶机场，他看到一个出名的托儿在装扮成神父向人们募捐，卡维泽大喊：“你是个骗子！”然后就去找保安人员。
有时他会变得过于专注而进入恍惚的状态。有时他的思想会在别人和他说话的时候像烟一样飘走。
当他还在无名挣扎的时候，他给选角导演留下的印象是过于热切甚至有点儿不正常。现在他有了势头，他们把他当成了个新鲜人物。风格独特的导演泰瑞斯·马里克在选择卡维泽扮演威特的时候看到了他的与众不同。他没有选择强尼·戴普、布拉德·皮特或马修.麦康纳来扮演这个奥斯卡最佳影片中的灵魂人物。
卡维泽已经完成了在两部高知名度影片中的配角角色，影片将在（1999）秋天上映。他还在明年春天开拍的一部电影中扮演主角。他每周收到若干个剧本，电影制片厂的大亨们向他抛出一个又一个项目，时尚设计师赠送他衣服--他们总是把东西送给不需要的人。
任何时候、任何原因都能让他的好运终止。但是好莱坞争论的不是他具不具备成为明星的条件。他们在好奇的想：这样一个毫无城府、恪守道德、极端诚恳、眼睛如心灵之窗的西北男子如何在一个如幻泡影的行业里生存下去。
去年（1998）12月份，在“红色警戒线”首映派对上，记者包围了因扮演影片中年轻士兵威特而一举成名的卡维泽，当时卡维泽的朋友、同时也在片中搭档的西恩-潘走上来把胳膊绕在他肩膀上悄声说：“我不知道你怎么能在这一行当上干下去，你不适合。”
这既是恭维也是忠告。
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早晨5点15分，天还擦黑，卡维泽已驾驶着他的1993年本田雅阁在贝弗利格兰大道上奔驰。车的后窗上有一个代表华盛顿大学的“W”标记。他住在谢尔曼橡树园市（ Sherman Oaks）一个公寓，要到UCLA（加州大学洛杉矶分校）去做2个小时的锻炼，然后再为试演一个自闭症角色做研究和练习。
两天前的夜晚，他的脸和渴望的表情放大在电影屏幕上，成为奥斯卡颁奖礼最佳影片“红色警戒线“的主宰镜头。
他身高1.88米，体重83公斤，留着黑色的短发，有一张高颧骨、棱角分明的脸。在车内方向盘暗淡的灯光映射下，他看上去比电影上年轻许多，也许只有22岁的样子——1991年初他刚搬到洛杉矶的时年龄。
他当时根本没有考虑不成功的可能。他是如此自信以至于给人留下天真或者是自大的印象，就像他刚升入蒙特弗农高中时因为说自己将进入大学篮球队而被扔进了垃圾桶。
他很有模仿的天赋，还是小孩时就模仿电视剧“The A Team”里粗鲁的呆子T先生等等。他让人们发笑，他在聚光灯下感到很舒服。他做过服装模特，还出现在西雅图本地上演的几个戏里。在电影“不羁的天空”里一个仅出现了10秒钟的角色让他得到一张演员工会卡。在电影里他扮演一个检票员，台词只有两句：“你有什么行李要托运吗？”和“祝旅途愉快。”
一个本地的星探说他有当演员的条件，这点鼓励已经足够把他推出家门了。
“我抱着在蒙特弗农高中当新生时同样的期望来到了这里，然后我又被打昏了。”他用温和而单调的声音说着，和着行驶在马路上的轮胎发出的嗡嗡声。“我不知道表演是什么，而且在这儿没人关心你是不是能成功。我很紧张，别人看得出来。”
他仍然没有偏离那个出类拔萃、规矩正直的自己，作为一个虔诚信仰天主教的篮球世家长大的孩子，他学习非常努力并有远大的理想。他的父亲，老詹姆斯，长期在蒙特弗农做按摩技师，曾经入选中学篮球队的全美最佳阵容，并在UCLA教练约翰·伍顿手下打过球。五个孩子：安、小吉姆、艾米、提姆和艾琳都在大学队里打球。
吉姆（大家这样叫他）相比之下是能力最差但却最努力的一个。而他弟弟提姆在1990年代是被人抢着招募的高中球员。当提姆在自家的篮球场做半场投篮时，吉姆则在苦练控球。他初中时转学到西雅图的奥蒂中学，因为那是一个天主教学校，并且能提供更好的打篮球机会。高中时他转到了肯尼迪中学，开始做控球后卫。他和朋友住在一起，周末才回家。
他在贝尔维尤社区大学打了两年球。教练厄尼·伍兹说卡维泽是他执教30年来碰到的最刻苦的学生；一次外出打球，卡维泽的魅力还让一个湾区的餐馆老板为全队提供了免费晚餐。
人格和信仰，使他在一群涌入洛杉矶的年轻、漂亮、雄心勃勃的人中显得鹤立鸡群。
来到洛杉矶一个月后，他碰到一位劳伦斯·詹寇神父，这位天主教牧师曾在20世纪80年代中期在黎巴嫩被绑架了19个月。詹寇把他引见给了南加大教授查·韦伯。查·韦伯在靠近好莱坞的地区有一个大房子。
“本来的想法是让吉米住一个月，这样他好有机会自立，”韦伯说：“但是他住了五年多。这样也好，我们成了终生的朋友。”
便宜的租金让卡维泽可以花更多的时间练习和试镜，少在餐馆做招待。开头几年是很枯燥的，但是他吃力地向前走着。
一次，布什总统参加了一个制片人在马里布的筹款餐会，离开时他穿过史泰龙和库尔特·拉塞尔（Kurt Russell）去和卡维泽握手，对他说：“干的好。”而卡维泽并非是客人而是个服务生。布什看到了一票，而卡维泽也保证自己在他左右。（老实说，没看懂这句是什么意思。）
1993年，为了参加电影《义海倾情》(Wyatt Earp)的演出，他拒绝了纽约着名表演艺术学院朱莉娅学院的奖学金。他的角色只需要几天的拍摄，但是导演劳伦斯·卡斯丹非常喜欢他，给他付了整个拍摄期 4个月的薪资。当明星凯文·科斯特纳需要去西雅图时，他让卡维泽搭乘了他的私人飞机。
他总是能给在工作上认识的人留下好印象，但却不能赢得选角导演的青睐。他的经纪人，帕米拉·科尔说他的诚意既能吸引人也能把人赶跑。“吉米不像大多数演员，”她说：“他关心别人。”
上午，卡维泽锻炼结束，驱车行驶在太平洋海岸公路上，车里的磁带放着弗兰克·辛纳屈（上世纪20年代着名歌星，以柔软细腻的嗓音见长）低吟“深夜里的陌生人”。他指着海边一个叫“快活石”的餐馆说：“那里的早餐很好吃，我知道，因为我在那里工作过。”他又指着高速公路另一面延伸到马里布的山脊说：“ 这里也是肖恩·潘的天地。”
卡维泽正在琢磨的这个自闭症角色原来是肖恩·潘的，但是他和片场闹翻了。这两个男人从拍摄“红色警戒线”时开始一直保持着一种奇怪的夥伴关系。就如他们在片中扮演的角色一样，卡维泽是个顽固的乐观主义者，而潘却有很强的戒备心。电影中有一个情节，上士威尔士问威特：“你还能看到那美丽的光？你怎么看到的？我觉得你简直是个魔术师。”威特回答：“我仍然在你身上看到火花。”
这个情节是即兴演出的，两个人说的话建立在他们的友谊上。就像在电影里一样，潘既被卡维泽吸引又为其困惑。（尽管潘对记者是出名的不信任，但是他曾向记者承认：“吉姆有一种近乎古老的真诚，这对一个演员来说是一种非常纯洁、珍贵的品质。”）
在他们相识以前很久，卡维泽曾经梦见他和潘在一起表演。一年以后，在1996年，他们都为电影“非恋不可”（The Hi-Lo Country）的主角试镜。电影描述的是两个牛仔的故事。
卡维泽很确定这次是自己的出头之日，但是一天回家后他看到了导演的条子，说制片厂挑了别人。他崩溃了，决定再给好莱坞6个多月的时间，然后就去找一种稳定的生活。
“从那以后我获得了一点解脱，”他说：“我决定不再为下一个角色担忧，而是尽自己最大努力。我不再去为十个角色试镜，而只去为自己想要的角色试镜。我会继续奋斗而任人们去笑话，因为我在设计自己的人生。”
“我把信心放在上帝一边。这一定和他和我的家人有关，不会只是关于我自己。”
每一个演员都希望在名导马立克（Malick）20年来首次拍摄的影片里扮演一个角色。他只导演过两部电影，但是两部都很独特而且享誉持久。他导演的《疯狂假期》(Badlands)捧红了马丁·辛，《天堂之日》(Days of Heaven)捧红了李察·基尔。卡维泽却从来没听说过他。
肖恩·潘是第一个签约的演员，他向导演推荐了卡维泽。马立克计划拍一部长篇史诗，同时他被卡维泽灵性的外貌所吸引。两个人吃了几次饭，以便做进一步了解。
马立克对卡维泽的简历不感兴趣，里面尽是些小角色，如《勇闯夺命岛》(The Rock)里的飞行员，《魔鬼女大兵》(G.I.Jane)里的海豹突击队的募兵官。在一部叫《ED》的恐怕是史上最糟糕的棒球电影里，他的角色被从球队里踢了出来。卡维泽最露脸的工作要算1997年为GAP牛仔裤在全国巡回拍摄广告了。
马立克让卡维泽不要拒绝其它的机会，但是他还是拒绝了一个每集10万美元的电视剧。当几个月后马立克终于打电话对他说：”你就是威特了”时，他正在康威探望父母。
马立克拍摄了足够制成几部电影的胶片，然后就像在即兴发挥。一些大腕被砍掉了，精选镜头变成了陪衬。卡维泽被推到前台成为中心人物。这个美丽而曲折的影片让一些观众和评论人感到困惑，但是卡维泽对马立克精神视野的诠释却赢得了广泛的赞扬。
他今后的所为将是保持这一势头的关键。在8月即将上映的影片《与魔鬼共骑》（Ride with the Devil），他将扮演一个留着胡子目露凶光的内战中的丛林战士。他是个坏人，但是是一个复杂的坏人。他在《挑战星期天》(Any Given Sunday)里扮演了阿尔·帕西诺的关系疏远的儿子。这部奥利弗·斯通导演的电影将在秋天上映。
他正在完成《黑洞频率》（Frequency），一部时间交错的惊险片。片中他扮演纽约凶手案警察，能和丹尼斯·奎德扮演的去世的父亲超越时空地交流。
他正在考虑其它的片子，但是他最想参与的一个剧本还没有完成。这是一部关于1935年成为重量级拳击世界冠军的吉米·布拉德克。他被这个故事吸引是因为布拉德克是个虔诚的天主教家庭的人。
导演和制片人称卡维泽具有“老式”的魅力，说他像贾利·古柏和吉米·史都华。
他的长期经理人贝弗丽·迪恩说：“唯一让我害怕的是吉姆是一个如此善良的人，”她回忆起刚开始的艰难时期，“现在所有的制片厂都想成为他的朋友，但是他得学会说不。”
开车穿过马里布后，他在星巴克停下来买果汁（一个漂亮女人认出了他并大声说："你看上去真年轻！”）。然后，卡维泽把他的本田车停靠在了阿古拉山中学前的路边。
他穿着蓝色牛仔裤，运动衫和洁白的“锐步”（REEBOK）运动鞋走进一个特殊教育课堂，为了给试镜头做准备，他已在这里花了几天的时间观察并和这些患自闭症的青少年交谈。
老师建议卡维泽坐在一个学生的课桌前，看看对一个自闭症患者，使用同一张课桌这样简单的事将是多么重要。这种发育障碍严重限制着患者的社交能力。老师警告卡维泽：学生很可能通过不直视他的眼睛来表达不满。但她又说：“不过，他可能会看你的眼睛。”
当男孩走进来时，他不仅看着卡维泽的眼睛而且似乎很高兴见到他。
几天前，卡维泽曾站在教室前向学生们讲述自己的学习障碍。1994年，他 25岁的时候，被诊断患有注意力不足过动症（ADHD）。他还有诵读困难。他说在上学的时候经常感到自己很笨，因为他必须比别人加倍努力才能赶上。一连串的挫折导致他和别人打架。女孩子们觉得他很古怪而不愿意与他约会。
但是他学会了运用自己与众不同之处并找到了自己的特长。他对这些学生说：“我就像你们。”并表示他能做到的，他们也可以。
尽管有点儿牵强，他的一席话给这些学生留下了印象。一个男孩子走上了，盯着卡维泽的右肩，说：“谢谢你说的这些话。”
卡维泽不肯吃Ritalin——一种专治ADHD的药物。他通过节制饮食，早起健身和海军陆战队员般的纪律严格要求自己。他使用一种能训练脑电波并提高注意力的机器，并发现自己很在行。有时候他觉得迷糊，就好象早晨刚起床一样，但是他的头脑也可以长期保持一种水晶般的清晰状态，这是其他演员望尘莫及的，他说。
他用一种全局的方法去工作。他把剧本读十几遍，不停地背。他尽量去理解人物这样他就能进入角色。
《与魔鬼共骑》的作者和制片人吉姆·沙穆斯（Jim Schamus）说卡维泽是拍摄现场准备最充分的演员。他仔细地阅读原着，并向沙穆斯指出改编剧本中漏掉的重要台词。卡维泽盘问沙穆斯影片里那些暴力镜头的目的、和影片的游击战专家套近乎、还带来一个乐队到拍摄现场演奏内战时期的音乐。
卡维泽从阿古拉山中学开车到表演教练约翰·科比在好莱坞的办公室。科比坐在角落里，周围是演员的照片和一个写着“如何具有创造力……”的海报。卡维泽靠近他坐下来，两个人的膝盖都要碰到一起了。
他练习的是一个患自闭症的父亲为保住5岁女儿的抚养权而斗争的故事。卡维泽不是很确定他想要这个角色，觉得剧本有些地方过于做作。
他们串演了一个场景，科比扮演女儿，提出“天空哪里去了？”和“妈妈在哪？”这类问题。卡维泽摸索着他的台词，寻找适当的音调，节奏和姿态。
很快他开始在房间里踱步，嘟嘟囔囔的抱怨不该介入这个剧本。他怎么可能在几天之内学会自闭症？他问。他不能把试演搞砸了，他越说越激动，把脸靠近科以强调自己的观点。
科比冷静地提供了一些具体建议并提醒他放松。卡维泽开始使用在课堂上观察到的习惯动作：用手指梳理头发，捏手指尖，摇动并哼哼着。至于那只颤动的右腿——那是他自己的习惯。
台词开始变得流畅了。有一个场景是剧中人在法庭上为自己为人父母的能力做辩护。卡维泽的声音因愤怒而爆发，双眼紧盯着科比。表演教练的脸上掠过一丝震惊，然后他意识到这是写在剧本里的。
过后科比说：好莱坞曾经笑话卡维泽像运动员一样卖力气，但他就是这样的人。
“他是这样一个有良心，以精神为中心的人，对他来说把一切都表现出来更容易。”科比说：“他不是在卖俗套，他是来真格的。”
当卡维泽离开科比的办公室时，他对这个角色感觉好多了。（他最终去试镜了，并且说很顺利。但是这个电影已被无限期推迟。）同时，他看上去也快崩溃了——已经一天没吃东西，眼睛都红红的。
名利的问题出现了。好莱坞想知道他是蒙哥马利·克利夫特再生（因为他长得像）？还是昙花一现。当那些八卦新闻学会念卡维泽的名字时，他清澈的眼睛会模糊起来吗？
他变得庄严起来。他知道名气是廉价的。他喜欢引用尼克·诺特（Nick Nolte，《红色警戒线》中扮演中校）告诉他的话：名气是个红色的大气球，华丽，但充满的只不过是空气。它膨胀、膨胀，直到没有任何余地，然后“嘭”就消失了。
再说，他只想出名到能演些好角色，足以有朝一日能在斯波坎（华盛顿州的一个城市）这样的地方经营他的演艺生涯。这让他开始谈起自己的太太，一个对好莱坞不以为然的人。
他们是他还在洛杉矶奋斗的时候通过相亲认识的。她叫凯莉·鲍威特，曾是贝宁汉西华盛顿大学的篮球明星。当时他们在赤杨木商场（Alderwood）约会，现在（1999）已经结婚三年.她现在是一个英语文学教师，像他一样，也是个虔诚的天主教徒，带有小城市人的认真劲儿。祖上居住在有百年历史的基帝塔什县罗斯林市。
现在，卡维泽似乎即将找到他来好莱坞的梦想，他对梦想的观点已经发生了变化。
“我知道这一切都可能在明天消失。”他说：“我没做什么可以炫耀的，但我感谢上帝让我能坚持足够长的时间来发现有一件事我可以做得很好。 ”
在汇入不断壮大的高速车流以赶回家前，卡维泽在美尔罗斯大道（Melrose Avenue）上的一个加油站停了下来。他回忆在早期的职业生涯中，他曾经为肥皂剧《飞越情海》(Melrose Place)试过镜头。该剧描写的是一群漂亮却无聊可怜的人。他并非真心想演那个角色，但是他需要引起人们的注意。选角导演认为他不合适。实际上，她觉得他很奇怪，并告诉他的经济人不要再把他推荐过来。
在洛杉矶下午的阳光下，他靠着车顶，再过几天他就要飞到东海岸和奎德拍片了。美尔罗斯的记忆闪过他的眼睛，就好象他再一次感谢着上帝。
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By Richard Seven
AT FIRST GLANCE, Jim Caviezel's big, ocean-blue eyes seem little more than the requisite work tools of a movie star.
They were as polished as new-car paint in "The Thin Red Line," the impressionistic World War II movie that catapulted him toward celebrity. In his role as Private Witt, Kentucky-bred GI existentialist, he spent much of his time standing by like a battlefield aura, staring and soaking in the chaos. In one powerful scene, he communicated shock, fear, helplessness and then joyful peace in a 15-second span using nothing but his gaze.
His look has always grabbed attention, at least as far back as 1987, his senior year at Kennedy High School in Burien, when he was voted "boy with the prettiest eyes."
They are more than props of a pretty boy, though. Look closer and you'll see an earnestness staring back that announces what or how he's feeling and reveals he is far more Skagit Valley, where he grew up, than Tinseltown.
In fact, at 30, Caviezel finds himself a Hollywood commodity in part because he's not Hollywood at all.
He has a child's curiosity that lets him introduce himself to Al Pacino, Magic Johnson or any stranger who grabs his attention. He looks flush at you when he talks about his Catholic faith, or his determination not to let learning difficulties slow him or fame change him. He is direct and intense, once frightening a casting director while portraying a menacing jerk. "I didn't get the part," he recalls.
He can seem quaintly courteous, yet possesses a righteous temper. While walking through the Los Angeles airport once with his wife, Kerri, he sighted a known scam artist posing as a priest and soliciting "donations." Caviezel pointed, shouted "You're a fraud!" and hunted for security guards.
There are times he burrows into a hyperfocus so strong it seems a trance. Other times, his thoughts drift like smoke while someone is talking to him.
He struck casting directors as over-eager or spacey when he was struggling. Now that he has momentum, they consider him fresh. Idiosyncratic director Terrence Malick saw something new when he chose Caviezel (ka-VEEZ-uhl) to be Witt, the spiritual core of the Oscar-nominated film, instead of Johnny Depp, Brad Pitt or Matthew McConaughey.
Caviezel has finished supporting roles in two high-profile movies opening this fall and is starring in one set for spring. He receives several scripts a week, studio brass are dangling projects, and fashion designers, in their way of rewarding people more the less they need it, send him free clothes.
His run could stop at anytime and for any reason, but the debate in Hollywood isn't about whether he's got what it takes. What they wonder is how a wide-open Northwest man with a strict moral code, an aggressive sincerity and windows for eyes can survive in an industry that runs on illusion.
Back in December, as photographers crowded Caviezel at the premiere party for "The Thin Red Line," friend and co-star Sean Penn walked up, put his arm around his shoulders and whispered, "I don't know how you're going to last in this business. You don't fit in."
It was both compliment and caution.
AT 5:15 A.M. CAVIEZEL has the dark lanes of Beverly Glen Boulevard to himself as he drives his 1993 Honda Accord, with a University of Washington "W" decal on the back window, from his Sherman Oaks apartment toward UCLA. He is headed for a two-hour workout before a day of research and practice for a potential role as an autistic man.
Two nights before, his face and wistful look, magnified on a movie screen, had dominated the best-picture clip for "The Thin Red Line" during the Academy Awards.
He is 6-feet-2, a slender 185 pounds, with short, coal-black hair and an angular face with high cheekbones. In the dim dashboard glow, he looks far younger than in the movie, perhaps 22, the age at which he moved to L.A. to become an actor in early 1991.
He never considered the impossible odds then. He was so confident that he struck people as naive or cocky, like when he was dumped into a garbage bin at Mount Vernon High School as a freshman for saying he planned to make the varsity basketball team.
He was a gifted mimic, even as a kid, doing imitations of Mr. T, the gruff goon on TV's "The A Team," and others. He made people laugh and felt warm in the spotlight. He modeled clothing and appeared in a few Seattle-area plays. He got his Screen Actors Guild card after scoring a 10-second part in the Northwest-filmed "My Own Private Idaho." Playing an airline ticket-taker, he said, "Do you have any bags to check?" and "Have a nice flight."
A local talent agent said he had what it took, and that was all the nudging he needed.
"I came down here with the same sort of expectations I had as a freshman at Mount Vernon, and I got pummeled again," he says, his soft monotone harmonizing with the hum of tires on road. "I didn't know what acting was, and no one down here cares if you make it or not. I was pressing, and it showed."
He still hasn't veered much from the over-achieving straight arrow who studied hard and dreamed big while growing up in a close-knit family unified by Catholicism and basketball. His father, James Sr., a longtime Mount Vernon chiropractor, was a high-school All-American and played at UCLA for Coach John Wooden. All five children - Ann, Jim Jr., Amy, Tim and Erin - played college ball.
Jimmy, as they call him, had the least relative ability but worked the hardest. While his younger brother, Tim, a highly recruited high-school player in 1990, hoisted half-court shots on the family's court, Jimmy did ball-handling drills. He transferred as a junior to O'Dea High School in Seattle because it was a Catholic school and seemed to offer a better chance to play basketball. He moved to Kennedy as a senior and started at point guard. He lived with friends, commuting home to Conway, a Skagit Valley town just south of Mount Vernon, on weekends.
He played two years at Bellevue Community College. Coach Ernie Woods says Caviezel was the hardest worker he had in 30 years and also made his mark by charming a Bay Area restaurant owner into giving the team a free dinner during a road trip.
The blend of intensity, personality and faith helped separate him from the hordes of young, good-looking wannabes who swarm L.A.
He was there about a month when he met Father Lawrence Jenco, the Catholic priest who had been held hostage in Lebanon for 19 months in the mid-1980s. Jenco introduced him to Chuck Weber, a USC professor with a big house near Hollywood.
"The idea was for Jimmy to stay a month so he could get his feet on the ground," said Weber. "He stayed more than five years. But that was fine. We'll be lifelong friends."
Cheap rent let Caviezel spend more time practicing and auditioning and less time waiting tables. The early years were dry, but he trudged ahead.
Once, as President George Bush left a fund-raising party at a producer's Malibu home, he pushed between Sylvester Stallone and Kurt Russell to shake Caviezel's hand. "Nice job" he told Caviezel, who was there not as a guest, but as a server. Bush saw a vote, but Caviezel had made sure he was nearby.
In 1993, he turned down a scholarship to Juilliard, the prestigious New York performing-arts school, to take a bit part in "Wyatt Earp." His role involved a few days of filming, but director Lawrence Kasdan liked him so much he paid him to stay for the entire four-month shoot. When the star, Kevin Costner, needed to go to Seattle, he gave Caviezel a lift in his private plane.
He always did better with people he got to know on the job than with casting directors. His agent, Pamela Cole, says his sincerity can win people over - or throw them off. "Jimmy's not like most actors," she says. "He cares about other people."
AT MID-MORNING, his workout finished, Caviezel heads down Pacific Coast Highway South while Frank Sinatra croons "Strangers in the Night" from the car's tape deck. He points out a beachside restaurant called Gladstone's.
"That's the place to eat breakfast," he says. "I should know. I used to work there." He points to the other side of the highway into the Malibu hillsides. "This is Sean Penn country, too."
The autistic role Caviezel is considering was Penn's before Penn had a falling out with the studio. The men maintain an odd-couple bond developed while filming "The Thin Red Line." Like their characters, Caviezel is the stubborn optimist while Penn is guarded. There was a scene in which Penn's character, Sergeant Welsh, asks Witt, "You still seeing that beautiful light? How do you do that? You're a magician to me." Witt responds, "I still see a spark in you."
The scene was ad-libbed, the two speaking based on their friendship. As in the movie, Penn is both taken and baffled by Caviezel. (Though known for his distrust of reporters, Penn agreed to say something: "Jim's got an almost archaic sincerity, which is very pure - a rare and valuable thing for an actor.")
Long before they met, Caviezel had a dream in which he was acting with Penn. About a year later, in 1996, they were auditioning for lead roles in "The Hi-Lo Country," about two cowboys.
Caviezel was sure it was his break, but he came home one day and found a note from the director saying the studio wanted someone else. He was crushed and decided to give Hollywood six more months and then look for a stable life.
"I gained a little freedom from that," he said. "I decided to quit being so worried about getting the next part and just do the best I could. Instead of doing 10 auditions, I'd only go for the parts I wanted. I'd go down fighting and let people laugh, because I was designing my own life.
"I put my faith in God. It was about Him and my family. It had to be more than about me."
IT SEEMED EVERY ACTOR wanted a role in Malick's first movie in 20 years. He had done only two films, but both were unique and lasting. He made stars out of Martin Sheen in "Badlands" and Richard Gere in "Days of Heaven." Caviezel had never heard of him.
Penn, the first to sign on, suggested Caviezel. Malick planned a feature-length poem and became intrigued by Caviezel's soulful presence. The two dined a few times so he could size up the unknown.
Malick wasn't interested in Caviezel's resume, which was peppered with tiny roles such as a fighter pilot in "The Rock," and a dim-bulb Navy SEAL recruit in "G.I. Jane." In "Ed," perhaps the worst baseball movie ever, his character was cut from the team and movie midway through after Ed the monkey outplayed him at third base. Caviezel's greatest exposure might have been a 1997 job modeling jeans for The Gap on buildings, kiosks and buses across the country.
Malick warned Caviezel not to turn down other offers, but he did, ignoring chances to make television pilots at $100,000 apiece. He was visiting his parents in Conway months later when Malick finally called and said, "You're Witt."
Malick shot enough film for several movies and seemed to be winging it. Big names were axed; featured parts became glorified cameos. Caviezel wound up front and center. The beautiful, meandering movie confounded some customers and critics, but Caviezel was widely praised for how he translated Malick's spiritual vision.
What he does next is critical if he is to keep momentum. His eyes will stare out with menace from the bearded face of a Civil War bushwhacker in "Ride With the Devil," due in October. He's a bad guy, but a complicated one. He plays Al Pacino's estranged son in "Any Given Sunday," an Oliver Stone movie coming in the fall.
He is wrapping "Frequency," a time-tripping thriller in which he stars as a New York homicide cop who learns he can communicate with his dead father, played by Dennis Quaid.
He is weighing other projects, but really wants one still deep in development. It's the story of Jimmy Braddock, an underdog who became boxing's heavyweight world champion in 1935. He is drawn to it because Braddock was a devout Catholic family man.
Directors and producers call Caviezel's charisma "old-fashioned" and liken him to Gary Cooper and Jimmy Stewart.
"The only thing that scares me is Jim's such a kind soul," said Beverly Dean, his longtime manager, who recalls the lean early years. "The studios all want to be his friend now, but he has to learn to say no."
AFTER CRUISING past Malibu and stopping for juice at a Starbucks (where a pretty woman recognizes him and exclaims, "You look so young!"), Caviezel pulls his Honda to the curb in front of Agoura Hills High School.
Wearing blue jeans, a sweatshirt and glowing-white Reeboks, he walks into a special-education classroom where he has spent days observing and talking with autistic teenagers to prepare for the audition.
The teacher suggests Caviezel sit in a student's desk to see how important routine, such as always using the same desk, can be to an autistic person. The developmental disorder severely limits the ability to make social connections; the teacher warns Caviezel that the student likely would express his displeasure without looking him in the eyes.
"Actually," she adds after regarding Caviezel, "he might look in your eyes."
When the boy walks in, he not only looks Caviezel in the eyes but seems happy to see him.
A few days before, Caviezel had stood in front of the class and told the students about his own learning problems. In 1994, at age 25, he was diagnosed with Attention Deficit and Hyperactivity Disorder. He also struggles with dyslexia. He told the students he felt stupid in school because he had to study so much harder than everyone else. He had bouts of frustration that led to fights and was turned down for dates by girls who thought he was weird.
But he learned to use what makes him different and find his talent, he said, and they could, too.
"I'm like you," he said.
While a stretch, it made an impression. One boy walked up and, while looking over Caviezel's right shoulder, said, "Thank you for what you said."
Caviezel won't take Ritalin, the drug often prescribed for ADHD. He uses diet, his early-morning fitness regimen and a Marine's discipline. He has worked on a machine designed to retrain brain waves and enhance focus and found he is exceptionally good at it. There are times his mind feels groggy, as if he just got out of bed, but he also has long periods of crystal clarity most actors can't touch, he said.
It has led to an holistic approach to work. He reads a script dozens of times but doesn't stop at memorization. He tries to understand a character so he can assume the personality.
Jim Schamus, producer and writer of "Ride With The Devil," said Caviezel was by far the most prepared actor on the set. He carefully read the book the movie is based on and pointed out key lines Schamus had missed in his adaptation. Caviezel grilled Schamus about the purpose of the film's violence, became close to its guerrilla-warfare expert and brought a band to the set that played Civil War-era music.
FROM THE HIGH SCHOOL, Caviezel drives to Hollywood and the office of John Kirby, his acting coach. Kirby sits in a corner, surrounded by framed pictures of actors and a poster that begins, "How To Be Creative . . ." Caviezel sits so close their knees almost touch.
The role he is practicing is that of an autistic father fighting to keep custody of his 5-year-old daughter. Caviezel isn't sure he wants it; parts of the script feel manipulative to him.
They run through a scene in which Kirby plays the daughter, asking questions like, "Where does the sky go?" and "Where's Mommy?" Caviezel gropes through his lines, searching for tone, cadence, posture.
Soon, he is pacing across the room and grumbling about getting involved. How can he learn autism in a few days? he asks. He can't afford to bomb the audition, and he is growing agitated. He puts his face inches from Kirby's to make a point.
Kirby calmly offers specific tips and reminds him to lighten up. Caviezel begins using mannerisms he picked up in the classroom, scrubbing the side of his head with his knuckles, pinching his fingertips, rocking and humming. The fidgeting right leg is his own.
The reading flows from there. In a scene where the character defends his parenting ability in court, Caviezel's voice explodes in anger while his eyes bore into Kirby. A look of shock sweeps over the coach's face - until he realizes this is in the script.
Hollywood used to laugh at Caviezel's jock exuberance, Kirby says later, but that's who he is.
"He has such a soul, such a spiritual center, that it is easier for him to show everything," Kirby said. "He's not a cliche. It's real."
BY THE TIME HE leaves Kirby's office, Caviezel feels better about the part. (He eventually auditioned and said it went well, but the movie project has been put on indefinite hold.) He also looks frayed, though. He hasn't eaten all day, and his eyes have reddened.
The question of fame comes up. Hollywood wants to know if he is the re-incarnation of Montgomery Clift, whom he resembles, or a one-hit wonder. How will he handle it once TV tabloids learn how to pronounce Caviezel? Will it all blur his clear-eyed vision?
He becomes solemn. He's aware celebrity comes cheap. He likes to cite what Nick Nolte told him: that fame is a big red balloon, flashy but filled with nothing but air. It grows and grows until there's no room for anything else, and then pop, it's gone.
Besides, he says, he wants to be only famous enough to get good roles and successful enough to someday run his acting career from a place like Spokane. That leads him to talk about his wife, who is not impressed with Hollywood.
They met on a blind date while he was struggling in L.A. and she was a basketball star, Kerri Browitt, at Western Washington University in Bellingham. They rendezvoused at Alderwood Mall and have been married three years. An English-literature teacher, she is, like him, a devout Catholic, serious and small-town, with family roots in Roslyn, Kittitas County, that go back 100 years.
Now that Caviezel seems on the verge of finding the dream he came to Hollywood for, his perspective of the dream has changed.
"I know this can all go away tomorrow." he says. "I've done nothing to brag about, but I thank God I was able to hang on long enough to find that one thing I can do well."
Before merging into the swelling freeway traffic to drive home, Caviezel stops at a gas station on Melrose Avenue. He recalls how, early in his career, he auditioned for "Melrose Place," a soap opera about beautiful but miserable people. He hadn't really wanted the part, but felt he needed to get noticed. The casting director didn't think he fit in. In fact, she thought he was strange and told his agent never to send him again.
Leaning on the roof of his car in the late-afternoon L.A. sun, a few days before flying to the East Coast to film with Quaid, the Melrose memory returns a spark to his eyes, as if he were, again, thanking God.
Richard Seven is a Pacific Northwest magazine staff writer. Harley Soltes is staff photographer for the magazine.
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”意想不到的明星——吉姆•卡维泽以顽固的真诚闯荡好莱坞“
作者：理查德·瑟文，发表于1999年6月20日
乍看之下，吉姆·卡维泽海蓝色的大眼睛似乎不仅仅是一个电影明星必需的工具。
他们就像新车的油漆般闪亮，而这辆新车的生产线是印象主义二战影片 “红色警戒线（The Thin
Red Line）”。卡维泽在影片中扮演肯塔基出生的士兵威特，一个存在主义者（这一点我不敢苟同，一个把自己生命之至于度外的人会是存在主义者？）。该片把默默无闻的卡维泽捧成了明星。
威特在片中长久地站立着，就像战场上的一道辉光，凝视和浸泡在战争的混乱中。在一个震撼的场景中，他仅用自己的目光就在15秒钟内表达了惊愕，恐惧，无助，到欢乐和平这一系列变化。
他的外表总是很引人注意，至少从1987年他还在华盛顿州Burien的肯尼迪中学念高中时起，当时他曾被选为“眼睛最漂亮的男孩”。
但是这双眼睛不仅仅是一个漂亮男孩的道具。走近看，你会看到他们在真诚地回视，并表白着男孩的感情，预示着他会从家乡史盖基山谷远走高飞。
实际上，30岁的卡维泽发现自己成为好莱坞明星的原因之一恰恰是因为他根本不像个好莱坞演员。
他有一种孩子般的好奇心，这种好奇心会驱使他向阿尔·帕奇诺，魔术师约翰森或任何引起他注意的陌生人做自我介绍。当谈起自己的天主教信仰、以及不会让先天缺 陷放慢自己的脚步或者名誉改变自己的决心时，他的脸会泛红。他是直接和激烈的，有一次试演一个凶险的混蛋时把一个选角的导演给吓坏了，“我没得到那个角色 ”他回忆说。
他可以礼貌得出奇，但也有正义的脾气。一次和妻子凯莉在洛杉矶机场，他看到一个出名的托儿在装扮成神父向人们募捐，卡维泽大喊：“你是个骗子！”然后就去找保安人员。
有时他会变得过于专注而进入恍惚的状态。有时他的思想会在别人和他说话的时候像烟一样飘走。
当他还在无名挣扎的时候，他给选角导演留下的印象是过于热切甚至有点儿不正常。现在他有了势头，他们把他当成了个新鲜人物。风格独特的导演泰瑞斯·马里克在选择卡维泽扮演威特的时候看到了他的与众不同。他没有选择强尼·戴普、布拉德·皮特或马修.麦康纳来扮演这个奥斯卡最佳影片中的灵魂人物。
卡维泽已经完成了在两部高知名度影片中的配角角色，影片将在（1999）秋天上映。他还在明年春天开拍的一部电影中扮演主角。他每周收到若干个剧本，电影制片厂的大亨们向他抛出一个又一个项目，时尚设计师赠送他衣服--他们总是把东西送给不需要的人。
任何时候、任何原因都能让他的好运终止。但是好莱坞争论的不是他具不具备成为明星的条件。他们在好奇的想：这样一个毫无城府、恪守道德、极端诚恳、眼睛如心灵之窗的西北男子如何在一个如幻泡影的行业里生存下去。
去年（1998）12月份，在“红色警戒线”首映派对上，记者包围了因扮演影片中年轻士兵威特而一举成名的卡维泽，当时卡维泽的朋友、同时也在片中搭档的西恩-潘走上来把胳膊绕在他肩膀上悄声说：“我不知道你怎么能在这一行当上干下去，你不适合。”
这既是恭维也是忠告。
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早晨5点15分，天还擦黑，卡维泽已驾驶着他的1993年本田雅阁在贝弗利格兰大道上奔驰。车的后窗上有一个代表华盛顿大学的“W”标记。他住在谢尔曼橡树园市（ Sherman Oaks）一个公寓，要到UCLA（加州大学洛杉矶分校）去做2个小时的锻炼，然后再为试演一个自闭症角色做研究和练习。
两天前的夜晚，他的脸和渴望的表情放大在电影屏幕上，成为奥斯卡颁奖礼最佳影片“红色警戒线“的主宰镜头。
他身高1.88米，体重83公斤，留着黑色的短发，有一张高颧骨、棱角分明的脸。在车内方向盘暗淡的灯光映射下，他看上去比电影上年轻许多，也许只有22岁的样子——1991年初他刚搬到洛杉矶的时年龄。
他当时根本没有考虑不成功的可能。他是如此自信以至于给人留下天真或者是自大的印象，就像他刚升入蒙特弗农高中时因为说自己将进入大学篮球队而被扔进了垃圾桶。
他很有模仿的天赋，还是小孩时就模仿电视剧“The A Team”里粗鲁的呆子T先生等等。他让人们发笑，他在聚光灯下感到很舒服。他做过服装模特，还出现在西雅图本地上演的几个戏里。在电影“不羁的天空”里一个仅出现了10秒钟的角色让他得到一张演员工会卡。在电影里他扮演一个检票员，台词只有两句：“你有什么行李要托运吗？”和“祝旅途愉快。”
一个本地的星探说他有当演员的条件，这点鼓励已经足够把他推出家门了。
“我抱着在蒙特弗农高中当新生时同样的期望来到了这里，然后我又被打昏了。”他用温和而单调的声音说着，和着行驶在马路上的轮胎发出的嗡嗡声。“我不知道表演是什么，而且在这儿没人关心你是不是能成功。我很紧张，别人看得出来。”
他仍然没有偏离那个出类拔萃、规矩正直的自己，作为一个虔诚信仰天主教的篮球世家长大的孩子，他学习非常努力并有远大的理想。他的父亲，老詹姆斯，长期在蒙特弗农做按摩技师，曾经入选中学篮球队的全美最佳阵容，并在UCLA教练约翰·伍顿手下打过球。五个孩子：安、小吉姆、艾米、提姆和艾琳都在大学队里打球。
吉姆（大家这样叫他）相比之下是能力最差但却最努力的一个。而他弟弟提姆在1990年代是被人抢着招募的高中球员。当提姆在自家的篮球场做半场投篮时，吉姆则在苦练控球。他初中时转学到西雅图的奥蒂中学，因为那是一个天主教学校，并且能提供更好的打篮球机会。高中时他转到了肯尼迪中学，开始做控球后卫。他和朋友住在一起，周末才回家。
他在贝尔维尤社区大学打了两年球。教练厄尼·伍兹说卡维泽是他执教30年来碰到的最刻苦的学生；一次外出打球，卡维泽的魅力还让一个湾区的餐馆老板为全队提供了免费晚餐。
人格和信仰，使他在一群涌入洛杉矶的年轻、漂亮、雄心勃勃的人中显得鹤立鸡群。
来到洛杉矶一个月后，他碰到一位劳伦斯·詹寇神父，这位天主教牧师曾在20世纪80年代中期在黎巴嫩被绑架了19个月。詹寇把他引见给了南加大教授查·韦伯。查·韦伯在靠近好莱坞的地区有一个大房子。
“本来的想法是让吉米住一个月，这样他好有机会自立，”韦伯说：“但是他住了五年多。这样也好，我们成了终生的朋友。”
便宜的租金让卡维泽可以花更多的时间练习和试镜，少在餐馆做招待。开头几年是很枯燥的，但是他吃力地向前走着。
一次，布什总统参加了一个制片人在马里布的筹款餐会，离开时他穿过史泰龙和库尔特·拉塞尔（Kurt Russell）去和卡维泽握手，对他说：“干的好。”而卡维泽并非是客人而是个服务生。布什看到了一票，而卡维泽也保证自己在他左右。（老实说，没看懂这句是什么意思。）
1993年，为了参加电影《义海倾情》(Wyatt Earp)的演出，他拒绝了纽约着名表演艺术学院朱莉娅学院的奖学金。他的角色只需要几天的拍摄，但是导演劳伦斯·卡斯丹非常喜欢他，给他付了整个拍摄期 4个月的薪资。当明星凯文·科斯特纳需要去西雅图时，他让卡维泽搭乘了他的私人飞机。
他总是能给在工作上认识的人留下好印象，但却不能赢得选角导演的青睐。他的经纪人，帕米拉·科尔说他的诚意既能吸引人也能把人赶跑。“吉米不像大多数演员，”她说：“他关心别人。”
上午，卡维泽锻炼结束，驱车行驶在太平洋海岸公路上，车里的磁带放着弗兰克·辛纳屈（上世纪20年代着名歌星，以柔软细腻的嗓音见长）低吟“深夜里的陌生人”。他指着海边一个叫“快活石”的餐馆说：“那里的早餐很好吃，我知道，因为我在那里工作过。”他又指着高速公路另一面延伸到马里布的山脊说：“ 这里也是肖恩·潘的天地。”
卡维泽正在琢磨的这个自闭症角色原来是肖恩·潘的，但是他和片场闹翻了。这两个男人从拍摄“红色警戒线”时开始一直保持着一种奇怪的夥伴关系。就如他们在片中扮演的角色一样，卡维泽是个顽固的乐观主义者，而潘却有很强的戒备心。电影中有一个情节，上士威尔士问威特：“你还能看到那美丽的光？你怎么看到的？我觉得你简直是个魔术师。”威特回答：“我仍然在你身上看到火花。”
这个情节是即兴演出的，两个人说的话建立在他们的友谊上。就像在电影里一样，潘既被卡维泽吸引又为其困惑。（尽管潘对记者是出名的不信任，但是他曾向记者承认：“吉姆有一种近乎古老的真诚，这对一个演员来说是一种非常纯洁、珍贵的品质。”）
在他们相识以前很久，卡维泽曾经梦见他和潘在一起表演。一年以后，在1996年，他们都为电影“非恋不可”（The Hi-Lo Country）的主角试镜。电影描述的是两个牛仔的故事。
卡维泽很确定这次是自己的出头之日，但是一天回家后他看到了导演的条子，说制片厂挑了别人。他崩溃了，决定再给好莱坞6个多月的时间，然后就去找一种稳定的生活。
“从那以后我获得了一点解脱，”他说：“我决定不再为下一个角色担忧，而是尽自己最大努力。我不再去为十个角色试镜，而只去为自己想要的角色试镜。我会继续奋斗而任人们去笑话，因为我在设计自己的人生。”
“我把信心放在上帝一边。这一定和他和我的家人有关，不会只是关于我自己。”
每一个演员都希望在名导马立克（Malick）20年来首次拍摄的影片里扮演一个角色。他只导演过两部电影，但是两部都很独特而且享誉持久。他导演的《疯狂假期》(Badlands)捧红了马丁·辛，《天堂之日》(Days of Heaven)捧红了李察·基尔。卡维泽却从来没听说过他。
肖恩·潘是第一个签约的演员，他向导演推荐了卡维泽。马立克计划拍一部长篇史诗，同时他被卡维泽灵性的外貌所吸引。两个人吃了几次饭，以便做进一步了解。
马立克对卡维泽的简历不感兴趣，里面尽是些小角色，如《勇闯夺命岛》(The Rock)里的飞行员，《魔鬼女大兵》(G.I.Jane)里的海豹突击队的募兵官。在一部叫《ED》的恐怕是史上最糟糕的棒球电影里，他的角色被从球队里踢了出来。卡维泽最露脸的工作要算1997年为GAP牛仔裤在全国巡回拍摄广告了。
马立克让卡维泽不要拒绝其它的机会，但是他还是拒绝了一个每集10万美元的电视剧。当几个月后马立克终于打电话对他说：”你就是威特了”时，他正在康威探望父母。
马立克拍摄了足够制成几部电影的胶片，然后就像在即兴发挥。一些大腕被砍掉了，精选镜头变成了陪衬。卡维泽被推到前台成为中心人物。这个美丽而曲折的影片让一些观众和评论人感到困惑，但是卡维泽对马立克精神视野的诠释却赢得了广泛的赞扬。
他今后的所为将是保持这一势头的关键。在8月即将上映的影片《与魔鬼共骑》（Ride with the Devil），他将扮演一个留着胡子目露凶光的内战中的丛林战士。他是个坏人，但是是一个复杂的坏人。他在《挑战星期天》(Any Given Sunday)里扮演了阿尔·帕西诺的关系疏远的儿子。这部奥利弗·斯通导演的电影将在秋天上映。
他正在完成《黑洞频率》（Frequency），一部时间交错的惊险片。片中他扮演纽约凶手案警察，能和丹尼斯·奎德扮演的去世的父亲超越时空地交流。
他正在考虑其它的片子，但是他最想参与的一个剧本还没有完成。这是一部关于1935年成为重量级拳击世界冠军的吉米·布拉德克。他被这个故事吸引是因为布拉德克是个虔诚的天主教家庭的人。
导演和制片人称卡维泽具有“老式”的魅力，说他像贾利·古柏和吉米·史都华。
他的长期经理人贝弗丽·迪恩说：“唯一让我害怕的是吉姆是一个如此善良的人，”她回忆起刚开始的艰难时期，“现在所有的制片厂都想成为他的朋友，但是他得学会说不。”
开车穿过马里布后，他在星巴克停下来买果汁（一个漂亮女人认出了他并大声说："你看上去真年轻！”）。然后，卡维泽把他的本田车停靠在了阿古拉山中学前的路边。
他穿着蓝色牛仔裤，运动衫和洁白的“锐步”（REEBOK）运动鞋走进一个特殊教育课堂，为了给试镜头做准备，他已在这里花了几天的时间观察并和这些患自闭症的青少年交谈。
老师建议卡维泽坐在一个学生的课桌前，看看对一个自闭症患者，使用同一张课桌这样简单的事将是多么重要。这种发育障碍严重限制着患者的社交能力。老师警告卡维泽：学生很可能通过不直视他的眼睛来表达不满。但她又说：“不过，他可能会看你的眼睛。”
当男孩走进来时，他不仅看着卡维泽的眼睛而且似乎很高兴见到他。
几天前，卡维泽曾站在教室前向学生们讲述自己的学习障碍。1994年，他 25岁的时候，被诊断患有注意力不足过动症（ADHD）。他还有诵读困难。他说在上学的时候经常感到自己很笨，因为他必须比别人加倍努力才能赶上。一连串的挫折导致他和别人打架。女孩子们觉得他很古怪而不愿意与他约会。
但是他学会了运用自己与众不同之处并找到了自己的特长。他对这些学生说：“我就像你们。”并表示他能做到的，他们也可以。
尽管有点儿牵强，他的一席话给这些学生留下了印象。一个男孩子走上了，盯着卡维泽的右肩，说：“谢谢你说的这些话。”
卡维泽不肯吃Ritalin——一种专治ADHD的药物。他通过节制饮食，早起健身和海军陆战队员般的纪律严格要求自己。他使用一种能训练脑电波并提高注意力的机器，并发现自己很在行。有时候他觉得迷糊，就好象早晨刚起床一样，但是他的头脑也可以长期保持一种水晶般的清晰状态，这是其他演员望尘莫及的，他说。
他用一种全局的方法去工作。他把剧本读十几遍，不停地背。他尽量去理解人物这样他就能进入角色。
《与魔鬼共骑》的作者和制片人吉姆·沙穆斯（Jim Schamus）说卡维泽是拍摄现场准备最充分的演员。他仔细地阅读原着，并向沙穆斯指出改编剧本中漏掉的重要台词。卡维泽盘问沙穆斯影片里那些暴力镜头的目的、和影片的游击战专家套近乎、还带来一个乐队到拍摄现场演奏内战时期的音乐。
卡维泽从阿古拉山中学开车到表演教练约翰·科比在好莱坞的办公室。科比坐在角落里，周围是演员的照片和一个写着“如何具有创造力……”的海报。卡维泽靠近他坐下来，两个人的膝盖都要碰到一起了。
他练习的是一个患自闭症的父亲为保住5岁女儿的抚养权而斗争的故事。卡维泽不是很确定他想要这个角色，觉得剧本有些地方过于做作。
他们串演了一个场景，科比扮演女儿，提出“天空哪里去了？”和“妈妈在哪？”这类问题。卡维泽摸索着他的台词，寻找适当的音调，节奏和姿态。
很快他开始在房间里踱步，嘟嘟囔囔的抱怨不该介入这个剧本。他怎么可能在几天之内学会自闭症？他问。他不能把试演搞砸了，他越说越激动，把脸靠近科以强调自己的观点。
科比冷静地提供了一些具体建议并提醒他放松。卡维泽开始使用在课堂上观察到的习惯动作：用手指梳理头发，捏手指尖，摇动并哼哼着。至于那只颤动的右腿——那是他自己的习惯。
台词开始变得流畅了。有一个场景是剧中人在法庭上为自己为人父母的能力做辩护。卡维泽的声音因愤怒而爆发，双眼紧盯着科比。表演教练的脸上掠过一丝震惊，然后他意识到这是写在剧本里的。
过后科比说：好莱坞曾经笑话卡维泽像运动员一样卖力气，但他就是这样的人。
“他是这样一个有良心，以精神为中心的人，对他来说把一切都表现出来更容易。”科比说：“他不是在卖俗套，他是来真格的。”
当卡维泽离开科比的办公室时，他对这个角色感觉好多了。（他最终去试镜了，并且说很顺利。但是这个电影已被无限期推迟。）同时，他看上去也快崩溃了——已经一天没吃东西，眼睛都红红的。
名利的问题出现了。好莱坞想知道他是蒙哥马利·克利夫特再生（因为他长得像）？还是昙花一现。当那些八卦新闻学会念卡维泽的名字时，他清澈的眼睛会模糊起来吗？
他变得庄严起来。他知道名气是廉价的。他喜欢引用尼克·诺特（Nick Nolte，《红色警戒线》中扮演中校）告诉他的话：名气是个红色的大气球，华丽，但充满的只不过是空气。它膨胀、膨胀，直到没有任何余地，然后“嘭”就消失了。
再说，他只想出名到能演些好角色，足以有朝一日能在斯波坎（华盛顿州的一个城市）这样的地方经营他的演艺生涯。这让他开始谈起自己的太太，一个对好莱坞不以为然的人。
他们是他还在洛杉矶奋斗的时候通过相亲认识的。她叫凯莉·鲍威特，曾是贝宁汉西华盛顿大学的篮球明星。当时他们在赤杨木商场（Alderwood）约会，现在（1999）已经结婚三年.她现在是一个英语文学教师，像他一样，也是个虔诚的天主教徒，带有小城市人的认真劲儿。祖上居住在有百年历史的基帝塔什县罗斯林市。
现在，卡维泽似乎即将找到他来好莱坞的梦想，他对梦想的观点已经发生了变化。
“我知道这一切都可能在明天消失。”他说：“我没做什么可以炫耀的，但我感谢上帝让我能坚持足够长的时间来发现有一件事我可以做得很好。 ”
在汇入不断壮大的高速车流以赶回家前，卡维泽在美尔罗斯大道（Melrose Avenue）上的一个加油站停了下来。他回忆在早期的职业生涯中，他曾经为肥皂剧《飞越情海》(Melrose Place)试过镜头。该剧描写的是一群漂亮却无聊可怜的人。他并非真心想演那个角色，但是他需要引起人们的注意。选角导演认为他不合适。实际上，她觉得他很奇怪，并告诉他的经济人不要再把他推荐过来。
在洛杉矶下午的阳光下，他靠着车顶，再过几天他就要飞到东海岸和奎德拍片了。美尔罗斯的记忆闪过他的眼睛，就好象他再一次感谢着上帝。
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By Richard Seven
AT FIRST GLANCE, Jim Caviezel's big, ocean-blue eyes seem little more than the requisite work tools of a movie star.
They were as polished as new-car paint in "The Thin Red Line," the impressionistic World War II movie that catapulted him toward celebrity. In his role as Private Witt, Kentucky-bred GI existentialist, he spent much of his time standing by like a battlefield aura, staring and soaking in the chaos. In one powerful scene, he communicated shock, fear, helplessness and then joyful peace in a 15-second span using nothing but his gaze.
His look has always grabbed attention, at least as far back as 1987, his senior year at Kennedy High School in Burien, when he was voted "boy with the prettiest eyes."
They are more than props of a pretty boy, though. Look closer and you'll see an earnestness staring back that announces what or how he's feeling and reveals he is far more Skagit Valley, where he grew up, than Tinseltown.
In fact, at 30, Caviezel finds himself a Hollywood commodity in part because he's not Hollywood at all.
He has a child's curiosity that lets him introduce himself to Al Pacino, Magic Johnson or any stranger who grabs his attention. He looks flush at you when he talks about his Catholic faith, or his determination not to let learning difficulties slow him or fame change him. He is direct and intense, once frightening a casting director while portraying a menacing jerk. "I didn't get the part," he recalls.
He can seem quaintly courteous, yet possesses a righteous temper. While walking through the Los Angeles airport once with his wife, Kerri, he sighted a known scam artist posing as a priest and soliciting "donations." Caviezel pointed, shouted "You're a fraud!" and hunted for security guards.
There are times he burrows into a hyperfocus so strong it seems a trance. Other times, his thoughts drift like smoke while someone is talking to him.
He struck casting directors as over-eager or spacey when he was struggling. Now that he has momentum, they consider him fresh. Idiosyncratic director Terrence Malick saw something new when he chose Caviezel (ka-VEEZ-uhl) to be Witt, the spiritual core of the Oscar-nominated film, instead of Johnny Depp, Brad Pitt or Matthew McConaughey.
Caviezel has finished supporting roles in two high-profile movies opening this fall and is starring in one set for spring. He receives several scripts a week, studio brass are dangling projects, and fashion designers, in their way of rewarding people more the less they need it, send him free clothes.
His run could stop at anytime and for any reason, but the debate in Hollywood isn't about whether he's got what it takes. What they wonder is how a wide-open Northwest man with a strict moral code, an aggressive sincerity and windows for eyes can survive in an industry that runs on illusion.
Back in December, as photographers crowded Caviezel at the premiere party for "The Thin Red Line," friend and co-star Sean Penn walked up, put his arm around his shoulders and whispered, "I don't know how you're going to last in this business. You don't fit in."
It was both compliment and caution.
AT 5:15 A.M. CAVIEZEL has the dark lanes of Beverly Glen Boulevard to himself as he drives his 1993 Honda Accord, with a University of Washington "W" decal on the back window, from his Sherman Oaks apartment toward UCLA. He is headed for a two-hour workout before a day of research and practice for a potential role as an autistic man.
Two nights before, his face and wistful look, magnified on a movie screen, had dominated the best-picture clip for "The Thin Red Line" during the Academy Awards.
He is 6-feet-2, a slender 185 pounds, with short, coal-black hair and an angular face with high cheekbones. In the dim dashboard glow, he looks far younger than in the movie, perhaps 22, the age at which he moved to L.A. to become an actor in early 1991.
He never considered the impossible odds then. He was so confident that he struck people as naive or cocky, like when he was dumped into a garbage bin at Mount Vernon High School as a freshman for saying he planned to make the varsity basketball team.
He was a gifted mimic, even as a kid, doing imitations of Mr. T, the gruff goon on TV's "The A Team," and others. He made people laugh and felt warm in the spotlight. He modeled clothing and appeared in a few Seattle-area plays. He got his Screen Actors Guild card after scoring a 10-second part in the Northwest-filmed "My Own Private Idaho." Playing an airline ticket-taker, he said, "Do you have any bags to check?" and "Have a nice flight."
A local talent agent said he had what it took, and that was all the nudging he needed.
"I came down here with the same sort of expectations I had as a freshman at Mount Vernon, and I got pummeled again," he says, his soft monotone harmonizing with the hum of tires on road. "I didn't know what acting was, and no one down here cares if you make it or not. I was pressing, and it showed."
He still hasn't veered much from the over-achieving straight arrow who studied hard and dreamed big while growing up in a close-knit family unified by Catholicism and basketball. His father, James Sr., a longtime Mount Vernon chiropractor, was a high-school All-American and played at UCLA for Coach John Wooden. All five children - Ann, Jim Jr., Amy, Tim and Erin - played college ball.
Jimmy, as they call him, had the least relative ability but worked the hardest. While his younger brother, Tim, a highly recruited high-school player in 1990, hoisted half-court shots on the family's court, Jimmy did ball-handling drills. He transferred as a junior to O'Dea High School in Seattle because it was a Catholic school and seemed to offer a better chance to play basketball. He moved to Kennedy as a senior and started at point guard. He lived with friends, commuting home to Conway, a Skagit Valley town just south of Mount Vernon, on weekends.
He played two years at Bellevue Community College. Coach Ernie Woods says Caviezel was the hardest worker he had in 30 years and also made his mark by charming a Bay Area restaurant owner into giving the team a free dinner during a road trip.
The blend of intensity, personality and faith helped separate him from the hordes of young, good-looking wannabes who swarm L.A.
He was there about a month when he met Father Lawrence Jenco, the Catholic priest who had been held hostage in Lebanon for 19 months in the mid-1980s. Jenco introduced him to Chuck Weber, a USC professor with a big house near Hollywood.
"The idea was for Jimmy to stay a month so he could get his feet on the ground," said Weber. "He stayed more than five years. But that was fine. We'll be lifelong friends."
Cheap rent let Caviezel spend more time practicing and auditioning and less time waiting tables. The early years were dry, but he trudged ahead.
Once, as President George Bush left a fund-raising party at a producer's Malibu home, he pushed between Sylvester Stallone and Kurt Russell to shake Caviezel's hand. "Nice job" he told Caviezel, who was there not as a guest, but as a server. Bush saw a vote, but Caviezel had made sure he was nearby.
In 1993, he turned down a scholarship to Juilliard, the prestigious New York performing-arts school, to take a bit part in "Wyatt Earp." His role involved a few days of filming, but director Lawrence Kasdan liked him so much he paid him to stay for the entire four-month shoot. When the star, Kevin Costner, needed to go to Seattle, he gave Caviezel a lift in his private plane.
He always did better with people he got to know on the job than with casting directors. His agent, Pamela Cole, says his sincerity can win people over - or throw them off. "Jimmy's not like most actors," she says. "He cares about other people."
AT MID-MORNING, his workout finished, Caviezel heads down Pacific Coast Highway South while Frank Sinatra croons "Strangers in the Night" from the car's tape deck. He points out a beachside restaurant called Gladstone's.
"That's the place to eat breakfast," he says. "I should know. I used to work there." He points to the other side of the highway into the Malibu hillsides. "This is Sean Penn country, too."
The autistic role Caviezel is considering was Penn's before Penn had a falling out with the studio. The men maintain an odd-couple bond developed while filming "The Thin Red Line." Like their characters, Caviezel is the stubborn optimist while Penn is guarded. There was a scene in which Penn's character, Sergeant Welsh, asks Witt, "You still seeing that beautiful light? How do you do that? You're a magician to me." Witt responds, "I still see a spark in you."
The scene was ad-libbed, the two speaking based on their friendship. As in the movie, Penn is both taken and baffled by Caviezel. (Though known for his distrust of reporters, Penn agreed to say something: "Jim's got an almost archaic sincerity, which is very pure - a rare and valuable thing for an actor.")
Long before they met, Caviezel had a dream in which he was acting with Penn. About a year later, in 1996, they were auditioning for lead roles in "The Hi-Lo Country," about two cowboys.
Caviezel was sure it was his break, but he came home one day and found a note from the director saying the studio wanted someone else. He was crushed and decided to give Hollywood six more months and then look for a stable life.
"I gained a little freedom from that," he said. "I decided to quit being so worried about getting the next part and just do the best I could. Instead of doing 10 auditions, I'd only go for the parts I wanted. I'd go down fighting and let people laugh, because I was designing my own life.
"I put my faith in God. It was about Him and my family. It had to be more than about me."
IT SEEMED EVERY ACTOR wanted a role in Malick's first movie in 20 years. He had done only two films, but both were unique and lasting. He made stars out of Martin Sheen in "Badlands" and Richard Gere in "Days of Heaven." Caviezel had never heard of him.
Penn, the first to sign on, suggested Caviezel. Malick planned a feature-length poem and became intrigued by Caviezel's soulful presence. The two dined a few times so he could size up the unknown.
Malick wasn't interested in Caviezel's resume, which was peppered with tiny roles such as a fighter pilot in "The Rock," and a dim-bulb Navy SEAL recruit in "G.I. Jane." In "Ed," perhaps the worst baseball movie ever, his character was cut from the team and movie midway through after Ed the monkey outplayed him at third base. Caviezel's greatest exposure might have been a 1997 job modeling jeans for The Gap on buildings, kiosks and buses across the country.
Malick warned Caviezel not to turn down other offers, but he did, ignoring chances to make television pilots at $100,000 apiece. He was visiting his parents in Conway months later when Malick finally called and said, "You're Witt."
Malick shot enough film for several movies and seemed to be winging it. Big names were axed; featured parts became glorified cameos. Caviezel wound up front and center. The beautiful, meandering movie confounded some customers and critics, but Caviezel was widely praised for how he translated Malick's spiritual vision.
What he does next is critical if he is to keep momentum. His eyes will stare out with menace from the bearded face of a Civil War bushwhacker in "Ride With the Devil," due in October. He's a bad guy, but a complicated one. He plays Al Pacino's estranged son in "Any Given Sunday," an Oliver Stone movie coming in the fall.
He is wrapping "Frequency," a time-tripping thriller in which he stars as a New York homicide cop who learns he can communicate with his dead father, played by Dennis Quaid.
He is weighing other projects, but really wants one still deep in development. It's the story of Jimmy Braddock, an underdog who became boxing's heavyweight world champion in 1935. He is drawn to it because Braddock was a devout Catholic family man.
Directors and producers call Caviezel's charisma "old-fashioned" and liken him to Gary Cooper and Jimmy Stewart.
"The only thing that scares me is Jim's such a kind soul," said Beverly Dean, his longtime manager, who recalls the lean early years. "The studios all want to be his friend now, but he has to learn to say no."
AFTER CRUISING past Malibu and stopping for juice at a Starbucks (where a pretty woman recognizes him and exclaims, "You look so young!"), Caviezel pulls his Honda to the curb in front of Agoura Hills High School.
Wearing blue jeans, a sweatshirt and glowing-white Reeboks, he walks into a special-education classroom where he has spent days observing and talking with autistic teenagers to prepare for the audition.
The teacher suggests Caviezel sit in a student's desk to see how important routine, such as always using the same desk, can be to an autistic person. The developmental disorder severely limits the ability to make social connections; the teacher warns Caviezel that the student likely would express his displeasure without looking him in the eyes.
"Actually," she adds after regarding Caviezel, "he might look in your eyes."
When the boy walks in, he not only looks Caviezel in the eyes but seems happy to see him.
A few days before, Caviezel had stood in front of the class and told the students about his own learning problems. In 1994, at age 25, he was diagnosed with Attention Deficit and Hyperactivity Disorder. He also struggles with dyslexia. He told the students he felt stupid in school because he had to study so much harder than everyone else. He had bouts of frustration that led to fights and was turned down for dates by girls who thought he was weird.
But he learned to use what makes him different and find his talent, he said, and they could, too.
"I'm like you," he said.
While a stretch, it made an impression. One boy walked up and, while looking over Caviezel's right shoulder, said, "Thank you for what you said."
Caviezel won't take Ritalin, the drug often prescribed for ADHD. He uses diet, his early-morning fitness regimen and a Marine's discipline. He has worked on a machine designed to retrain brain waves and enhance focus and found he is exceptionally good at it. There are times his mind feels groggy, as if he just got out of bed, but he also has long periods of crystal clarity most actors can't touch, he said.
It has led to an holistic approach to work. He reads a script dozens of times but doesn't stop at memorization. He tries to understand a character so he can assume the personality.
Jim Schamus, producer and writer of "Ride With The Devil," said Caviezel was by far the most prepared actor on the set. He carefully read the book the movie is based on and pointed out key lines Schamus had missed in his adaptation. Caviezel grilled Schamus about the purpose of the film's violence, became close to its guerrilla-warfare expert and brought a band to the set that played Civil War-era music.
FROM THE HIGH SCHOOL, Caviezel drives to Hollywood and the office of John Kirby, his acting coach. Kirby sits in a corner, surrounded by framed pictures of actors and a poster that begins, "How To Be Creative . . ." Caviezel sits so close their knees almost touch.
The role he is practicing is that of an autistic father fighting to keep custody of his 5-year-old daughter. Caviezel isn't sure he wants it; parts of the script feel manipulative to him.
They run through a scene in which Kirby plays the daughter, asking questions like, "Where does the sky go?" and "Where's Mommy?" Caviezel gropes through his lines, searching for tone, cadence, posture.
Soon, he is pacing across the room and grumbling about getting involved. How can he learn autism in a few days? he asks. He can't afford to bomb the audition, and he is growing agitated. He puts his face inches from Kirby's to make a point.
Kirby calmly offers specific tips and reminds him to lighten up. Caviezel begins using mannerisms he picked up in the classroom, scrubbing the side of his head with his knuckles, pinching his fingertips, rocking and humming. The fidgeting right leg is his own.
The reading flows from there. In a scene where the character defends his parenting ability in court, Caviezel's voice explodes in anger while his eyes bore into Kirby. A look of shock sweeps over the coach's face - until he realizes this is in the script.
Hollywood used to laugh at Caviezel's jock exuberance, Kirby says later, but that's who he is.
"He has such a soul, such a spiritual center, that it is easier for him to show everything," Kirby said. "He's not a cliche. It's real."
BY THE TIME HE leaves Kirby's office, Caviezel feels better about the part. (He eventually auditioned and said it went well, but the movie project has been put on indefinite hold.) He also looks frayed, though. He hasn't eaten all day, and his eyes have reddened.
The question of fame comes up. Hollywood wants to know if he is the re-incarnation of Montgomery Clift, whom he resembles, or a one-hit wonder. How will he handle it once TV tabloids learn how to pronounce Caviezel? Will it all blur his clear-eyed vision?
He becomes solemn. He's aware celebrity comes cheap. He likes to cite what Nick Nolte told him: that fame is a big red balloon, flashy but filled with nothing but air. It grows and grows until there's no room for anything else, and then pop, it's gone.
Besides, he says, he wants to be only famous enough to get good roles and successful enough to someday run his acting career from a place like Spokane. That leads him to talk about his wife, who is not impressed with Hollywood.
They met on a blind date while he was struggling in L.A. and she was a basketball star, Kerri Browitt, at Western Washington University in Bellingham. They rendezvoused at Alderwood Mall and have been married three years. An English-literature teacher, she is, like him, a devout Catholic, serious and small-town, with family roots in Roslyn, Kittitas County, that go back 100 years.
Now that Caviezel seems on the verge of finding the dream he came to Hollywood for, his perspective of the dream has changed.
"I know this can all go away tomorrow." he says. "I've done nothing to brag about, but I thank God I was able to hang on long enough to find that one thing I can do well."
Before merging into the swelling freeway traffic to drive home, Caviezel stops at a gas station on Melrose Avenue. He recalls how, early in his career, he auditioned for "Melrose Place," a soap opera about beautiful but miserable people. He hadn't really wanted the part, but felt he needed to get noticed. The casting director didn't think he fit in. In fact, she thought he was strange and told his agent never to send him again.
Leaning on the roof of his car in the late-afternoon L.A. sun, a few days before flying to the East Coast to film with Quaid, the Melrose memory returns a spark to his eyes, as if he were, again, thanking God.
Richard Seven is a Pacific Northwest magazine staff writer. Harley Soltes is staff photographer for the magazine.
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