It’s Time We Stop Taking Carey Mulligan For Granted

Earlier this month, Netflix exclusively (and quietly) released a BBC limited series, Collateral, starring one of the most talented contemporary actresses, Carey Mulligan. There could be a number of reasons behind the relatively quiet rollout: reviews were lukewarm in the UK, the subject matter is quite British, Mulligan is tied up doing a one-woman show at London’s famed Royal Court Theatre and thus unable to travel for stateside press.

Still, the missed opportunity for Mulligan to bask in the limelight cannot be ignored. Her work deserves to constitute a major event in the same way a new release from her peers Jennifer Lawrence, Emma Stone and Keira Knightley does. How is it possible that the actress who Sundance feted as an ingénue less than a decade ago has already become someone routinely taken for granted?

A look at her IMDb profile shows Mulligan has chosen her projects carefully – only 10 big screen roles since her Oscar-nominated breakout in 2009’s An Education. Arguably, the only misstep of the bunch was her first out of the gate, Oliver Stone’s Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps. It’s the kind of project that sounds great to an emerging star when an agent presents it to capitalize on newfound acclaim, and the relevance of Gordon Gekko’s “greed is good” mantra was undeniable when Mulligan signed on in the summer of 2009 (and the economy was still shedding jobs). And her two most obvious shots to return to awards season glory, 2010’s Never Let Me Go and 2015’s Suffragette, clearly did not achieve those ends.

But Carey Mulligan is cutting her own unique path through the industry, one that might not have her doing taped bits with late-night hosts but one that should excite onlookers all the same. She’s chosen to work with an eclectic slate of iconoclastic directors including Nicolas Winding Refn, Steve McQueen, Baz Luhrmann, the Coen Brothers and Thomas Vinterberg. And recently, she’s on a kick of amplifying female voices like Sarah Gavron, Dee Rees and her friend Zoe Kazan (co-screenwriter of her upcoming release Wildlife). The result of these choices? There’s no real definition of a “Carey Mulligan performance.”

She brings an understated but powerful presence to each role she assumes, never letting her persona overtake the performance – or her own ego overtake the entire movie. Mulligan developed a knack for playing ensemble MVP, making the most of a few scenes without trying to steal the film. In her capable hands, Mulligan layered what could have become one-dimensional wife roles in Drive or Inside Llewyn Davis into indelible characters. Take this scene in the latter of the two films. She lands her acidic barbs with real sting while also peeling back the veil to show a woman who uses vociferous anger as a shield for disappointment and heartbreak.

She’s unbowed by taking on classic literary figures from The Great Gatsby’s Daisy Buchanan to Far from the Madding Crowd’s Batsheba Everdene. Particularly when it comes to tackling Fitzgerald’s ungraspable love object, Mulligan resists the temptation to telegraph the constant back-and-forth of Daisy’s mind. In a story full of characters pursuing single goals with relentless ferocity, Mulligan is certain in Daisy’s uncertainty. Leonardo DiCaprio lays the mysteries of Jay Gatsby bare, tying the larger-than-life character to his own mythos. She, on the other hand, draws inward, declining to match his overacting while still staying true to the spirit of a woman Fitzgerald described as having a voice “full of money.” Her unreadability isn’t frustrating – it’s beguiling.

Had Fox Searchlight given Far from the Madding Crowd the proper treatment – fall festival tour, winter release date, actual campaign money – it might have firmly ensconced Mulligan in the collective memory as a truly formidable actress. The combination of handsomely pedigreed source material, exquisite period design/cinematography, and a relevant feminist message should have been a slam dunk. Mulligan’s performance as Batsheba, a Victorian-era woman who makes the unconventional decision to run the land she inherits, refuses to hit any easy “strong female character” beats. She perseveres to find professional and romantic success not because she is superhuman but rather because she is human, asserting her personal strengths and bucking up against society’s limitations for women.

And for all those betting on future EGOTs, don’t forget that Mulligan has some pipes! She has songs on three of her movies’ soundtracks, ranging from a folk duet with Justin Timberlake to her slow, melancholy cover of “New York, New York” from Shame. (Perhaps her husband, Marcus Mumford, can help produce a Grammy-winning tune.)

In case the four acting winners at the last Academy Awards ceremony did not make it abundantly clear, many people still associate the best acting with the most acting. The performances that get remembered and rewarded are flashy showcases of an actor’s talent, practically begging audiences to pay attention to how much work has gone into their creation. Mulligan doesn’t quite fit in with that trend. In her relatively brief acting career, she’s figured out how to create fully fleshed-out characters that serve their stories (rather than her career) without giving any more than is necessary. She’s quietly assembling a formidable body of work, one that might not blare its brilliance with a neon sign – yet it still deserves our attention, awe and reverence all the same. Just because a virtuosic Carey Mulligan on-screen turn is pretty much a given doesn’t mean a new one should become commonplace.

Watch Collateral on Netflix