Shia LaBeouf, of Even Stevens and terrible Indiana Jones sequel fame, might possibly be one of the greatest American actors working. Beyond his professional accomplishments, LaBeouf may also be a living American hero. LaBeouf struggled publicly with alcohol and violence over the last few years. In a recent essay for Grantland, Ernest Baker recently tried to explain what makes LaBeouf so compelling despite the bullshit:
Shia’s antics have been used to discredit him, as an actor and a person. He was close to becoming a sideshow attraction. But I’ve always seen through the criticism. His worst behavior only made him more human to me. It’s part of what made me like him. The other part was his dedication to his craft, his work ethic, and his performances. Appreciation for those aspects of his career were lost in the ruckus.
He's 28 and at no point during his most tumultuous public periods has he ever stopped working. After his first breakthrough hit in 2007 with the summer sleeper Disturbia, LaBeouf starred in three Transformers movies, an Indiana Jones sequel, a Wall Street sequel, slept-on genre fare like techno-paranoia thriller Eagle Eye and tough-guy western Lawless. According to Box Office Mojo, his movies have grossed over $2 billion. He's an undeniable movie star.
Recently Labeouf has reformed his behaviours slightly, at least in the public eye. Lately his work trended towards indie flicks after nearly a decade acting in some of the world's biggest movies. His performances are more and more outrageous than ever before. He acted opposite Robert Redford in a movie about a Weather Underground activist living in hiding. He delivered a depressed, psychedelic performance opposite a murderer's row of character actors in Charlie Countryman. He showed his dick (and acted superbly) in Lars Von Trier's racy, sexual Nymphomaniac. He was praised for a raw, genuine performance in Fury, Brad Pitt's oscar-bait-y World War II epic. As his work gets weirder and weirder, his public behaviour is falling more in line.
LaBoeuf lived his life and refused to compromise with anyone who might tell him he was doing it wrong. He worked hard and at no point did he conform to the rigid behaviours we demand or expect of our modern celebrities. He drank, fought, and fucked his way through his early twenties just like any regular human being. The only difference is we watched him do it in the public eye under a humongous microscope. He looked inward and focused his inner turmoil into his most recent work, and, by all means, it's paid off handsomely. He has learned to channel the aggressions that nearly harpooned his promising young career, and we're all the better for it. Shia's still Shia, but the threat of a public meltdown no longer exists. Or, at least, it decreased significantly.
Shia LaBeouf isn't famous anymore. He's on another level.
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