Why Me? Alec Baldwin’s Disappointment, Undimmed by Success

An engrossing, intimate piece about Alec Baldwin, an actor who has had a lengthy, varied career as well as more than a few very public meltdowns. Baldwin’s turn as Jack Donaghy on the NBC sitcom 30 Rock is one of the best things about the show, but he can’t — or won’t — recognize it:

“It’s a sitcom. The idea is to hit certain beats, and we do it cleverly. But, you do a television show, you become a pastry chef. I’m a pastry chef now; I’m not the big chef at the big restaurant.“

What he says is true, to an extent; he’s no Pacino or Nicholson. But Pacino and Nicholson couldn’t necessarily do what Baldwin does, either. Well, Jack probably could (see About Schmidt, for example), but Pacino seems to be limited to playing characters that are defined by their intensity. Subtley isn’t his thing.

Baldwin’s Jack Donaghy, on the other hand, succeeds because of his subtlety. The little tics and mannerisms and the seemingly effortless way in which he delivers cutting, off-hand remarks make his character both convincing and hilarious. Better still, Baldwin completely becomes Donaghy. I love Jack Nicholson, but he never lets you forget that you are watching Jack Nicholson. On 30 Rock, Alec Baldwin does the opposite: He forces you to forget that he’s Alec Baldwin. Call it pastry cheffing if you want; I call it great acting.

The piece is just another example of the consistently fine writing that appears each week in The New Yorker. If you enjoy long-form non-fiction, you should really consider subscribing.