TORONTO - It's hard not to be surprised by Adrien Brody. The lanky actor with the discordant good looks and icy blue eyes is as far from the "usual" leading man Hollywood typically churns out.
His knack for shaking Hollywood up became evident in 2002 with his starring role in "The Pianist."
Roman Polanski's weighty holocaust film was no cakewalk. Brody lost 29 pounds, withdrew from the world for months and learned how to play Chopin on the piano to make his character, Wladyslaw Szpilman, ring true.
"I couldn't tell what I was in for just from reading that script. I might have thought twice about doing the movie if I really knew what lay ahead of me," Brody told reporters at the 2008 Toronto International Film Festival.
Yet Brody delivered a gut-wrenching work of such unfathomable pain and beauty that it scored him 2002's Best Actor Oscar. Brody was just 29 -- the youngest actor in Academy Award history to nab that prize.
"I guess what guides me is to do work that's more avant-garde -- things that I think are special," Brody told CTV.ca during his whirlwind Toronto stopover.
Brody's daredevil streak in his screen roles is prodigious. From a mentally disabled outcast in M. Night Shyamalan's "The Village" to father-to-be Peter Whitman in Wes Anderson's "The Darjeeling Limited" the 35-year-old is out to savour something wild in his work.
Proof of that rests in these three words: "The Brothers Bloom."
Brody makes Rian Johnson's new comedy bloom
Starring alongside Oscar-winner Rachel Weisz ("The Constant Gardener") and Mark Ruffalo ("Blindness"), Brody and company deliver a globe-trotting romp about the last great adventure of the world's two best con men.
As long as they can remember the Brothers Bloom (Ruffalo and Brody) have only had each other to depend on. The orphaned siblings go from one foster home to another, with older brother Stephen (Ruffalo) devising wondrously complex double-crosses to help them get by and ease Bloom's loneliness.
As these kiddie grifters grow into men, however, they lose track of where real life ends and the con begins.
Director Rian Johnson delivers a film that's as wild and wondrous as a gypsy circus. Yet through all its madcap marvels there's Bloom, his slumped countenance and Malamute eyes unable to hide the joylessness of his crazy, meaningless existence.
"Bloom has a lot of guilt about the negative aspects of the cons that he and Stephen pull off," says Brody.
Caught in a cycle that perpetuates his unhappiness, Bloom yearns for an unscripted life -- something far removed from the pre-arranged plots Stephen brilliantly concocts to tide them through.
"Nothing in Bloom's life is real. It's all been designed for him. He's got to go through many obstacles to get on his true path," says Brody.
Bloom's quest for a life of his own is beautifully aided by Penelope (Weisz), the kooky, chainsaw-juggling heiress who becomes the mark for the brothers' last con.
"Rachel's character is just so bizarre and special that Bloom couldn't help but fall out of this crazy con routine for her," says Brody. "He doesn't win her at first. But when they merge it's certainly a key moment in Bloom's quest to break free and find the life he wants."
As Brody says, "I think all these characters are very brave. Stephen is brave and generous because he gives up his life for his brother. Penelope grabs at the chance to end her loneliness and follow these guys around the world. And then there's Bloom," his eyes twinkle.
"Taking that step into who you really are is frightening. It's hard to know what you want in life and that's true for everyone," says Brody.
But with Penelope's love and Stephen's sacrifice, the unhappy hustler finally overcomes his inhibitions and hears his own voice.
Brody stays true to the work
The challenge of being true to oneself is something the 35-year-old actor knows well.
"I was lucky," says Brody. "I was able to find what I wanted to do at a very young age. But my father and mother really instilled in me this sense of responsibility about work. You've got to care about what you're doing. If not, why bother?"
Born in Woodhaven, Queens, New York, Brody's mother, Sylvia Plachy, was a Budapest-born photojournalist. His father, Elliot Brody, was a retired history professor and painter.
"My parents taught me to value people who are serious about what they do," says Brody, who shuns tabloid celebrity like the plague.
"You can easily become a celebrity and get caught up in all that blur, especially after you get a lot of recognition from doing other films," says Brody. "I just want to work and surprise myself."
