
Under the Spotlight: James Spader’s empathetic creep in ‘Sex, Lies, and Videotape’
Throughout his career, James Spader has often played outsider characters with an undoubted sense of ethical ambiguity. It’s his turn in Steven Soderbergh‘s directorial debut, 1989’s Sex, Lies, and Videotape, that remains one of the Boston-born actor’s finest on-screen moments, in which he delivers a genuinely eccentric portrayal of sexuality and desire with the most unsettling yet empathetic of efforts.
Soderbergh’s debut also stars Andie McDowell, Peter Gallagher and Laura San Giacomo and sees Spader play Graham, an emotionally troubled man who gets his kicks from videotaping women discussing their sexuality and innermost fantasies. When Graham arrives at his old friend John’s house, John’s wife Ann begins offering taped confessions to Graham.
There’s an absolute mess of a love quadrant in the film in that John is sleeping with Ann’s sister, Cynthia, who also ends up visiting Graham and laying out her sexuality on videotape. Eventually, Graham’s videotapes and the infidelity of John come to the fore, leading to a moment from which none of the main characters can ever recover.
While McDowell and San Giacomo both give impressive efforts, it’s Spader’s turn as Graham that serves as the most memorable performance in the film. Serving as the pivotal anchor through which each of the other characters arrives at their respective transgressions, Spader’s portrayal of Graham is one that is simultaneously unsettling and yet somehow empathetic.
There’s a quietness to Graham that makes him at once off-putting and mysteriously alluring. He displays an intelligence and emotional understanding that John clearly lacks, which is why both Ann and Cynthia are drawn to him. The fact that he is impotent also perhaps goes some way to make Ann feel safe around him, while the cheating Cynthia is likely to see in him something of a challenge, and Spader perfectly captures his character’s innermost physical and emotional turmoil, allowing it to seep out slowly and naturally.
Behind the seeming calm presence of Graham lies a reality of longing and loneliness, and when it’s revealed that he’s still reeling from a previous breakup, his erectile dysfunction begins to make more sense. Still, Spader’s effort as Graham reveals a character who is deeply in touch with his emotions and with those of the women he videotapes, particularly concerning their desires and sexuality.
Perhaps what’s most impressive about Spader’s turn, though, is the fact that he’s capable of giving just about enough hints as to his vulnerability to provide his character with an air of ambiguity concerning his true intentions and genuine feelings. It might be easy to perceive Spader as something of a creep considering his sexual pastime, but the truth is that we never really feel like that; rather, we actually consider him in more of an empathetic light than John, Cynthia, and, to a degree, Ann.
Spader is able, therefore, to navigate Graham’s moral and emotional multitudes, which serves as a testament and proof of his excellence as an actor. Scenes between Graham and Ann are particularly intense as perhaps Ann sees in him the emotional vulnerability and understanding that she would like to see in her husband, and the fascination is evidently one that is mutual.
In addition to his emotional prowess, Spader also details an impressive physical performance as Graham, whether in his intense, piercing gaze or his slowly considered movement that also appears wholly natural. Even when sitting completely still, we find in Graham a sense that he is grappling with something far inside of him, which proves to be true at the sudden finale of the film.
In essence, Spader’s performance as Graham is central to the overall brilliance of Sex, Lies, and Videotape, and it’s unlikely that anyone might have been able to portray the character with as much allure and magnetism as the Stargate and Lincoln actor. Known for his ability to play emotional outsiders, Spader delivered perhaps his greatest-ever effort in Soderbergh’s debut, which has gone down in history in the realm of independent cinema.