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OXFORD FILM APPRECIATION SOCIETY
From the Ashes:
On River Phoenix in Rob Reiner’s Stand By Me
Eleanor Zhang
In the late 1970s, an American couple, young and hippieish, changed their family name to that of a bird after escaping from a religious cult. A mythical creature that gains immortality through mortal deaths and renascences in its own burnt ashes, the self-given name was the Phoenixes’ promise of a new beginning. And what a beginning it was – in a couple more years, the Phoenix children would find their way into showbiz in the most singular manner, with multifold rebirths no less fascinating than those of their magical namesake. First scouted by a talent agent as a group of kids singing on the street for spare change, their careers as child stars started in small TV commercials and shows, with little formal education in their previous nomadic life, let alone professional theatre training. Yet from this basic rags-to-riches setting, their story turned truly legendary when the oldest of them, with a golden-boy face and superb acting skills that could only be explained as innate talent, enamoured Hollywood and beyond in a stream of feature projects, leading all the way to an Oscar nomination at the mere age of 18.
His appearances on screen, while revealing a great gift, had all been sporadic and easily overlooked before the year of 1986, when River Phoenix, a name that had made as little noise as a trickling rivulet, began to gain fame with a momentum as unstoppable as a rushing torrent. River took on the role of Chris Chambers, the leader of a group of 4 boys who embark on a journey to look for a dead body in Stand By Me, one of the first of many Stephen King film adaptations. It’s a story about wobbling on the verge between childhood and teenage years, and River’s performance, a concoction of childlike demeanour and sudden bursts of grown-up insight, lent a heart note to this sweet-scented tale of coming of age (described as “centre of gravity” by The Washington Post).
One has to marvel at his strikingly natural portrayal of fraternal affection. Turning 16 that year, he was the oldest of his peers on set, but was nevertheless well-versed in the esoteric language of 12-year-olds, with subtle moments so convincingly boyish. His voice had not yet changed, and his gestures emit a carefreeness, as we watch Chris scuffle with pals on the ground, or pull Gordie by the sleeve as they desperately run with an angry middle-aged lady on their heels.
At the same time, the precocious side of Chris shows when he acts as the indispensable catalyst to the group’s chemistry, sticking the onscreen gang together with remarks and reactions befitting an older brother, (a role River no doubt assumed in his own family, being the primary breadwinner at the time). It all came to his Chris without thinking, shown as he counsels Teddy on his self-doubt, comforts Gordie after he’s bullied by his own brother, or warns Vern with a glance against humming a tune at an inopportune time. So comfortable did he appear in his grownup shoes that when Gordie, growing more annoyed by the minute at his tête-à-tête on the railway with Chris, exclaims “Oh Gee! Thanks Dad!” in frustration, one hardly notices he is talking to a friend his own age; at least not until the dialogue in the front enters the frame, and we hear Teddy and Vern’s heated discussion about Superman’s power, a more typical children’s deep talk now standing in jarringly stark contrast with the other one we have been watching. One is lead to notice things about Chris that are similar to those about the young actor behind him: on the same track, heading in the same direction towards adulthood, why is he able to take in and give off so much more in return than others?
In a way, finding his initial success in Stand By Me made River more of a phoenix than the others in his family: inexorably symmetrical, his stardom began with boyhood’s innocent obsession over a dead body, and ended, on a Halloween night at The Viper Room, with his own untimely death that left thousands shocked and mourning. Yet inexplicable as it may seem, there is something eerily poetic about a fleeting meteor - the same thing that has triggered generations of homage, in both culture and media, to the star dying too soon. While there’s still time to psychoanalyse our shared fascination with death, one thing is certain: what Gordie feels towards Chris’ passing is what many feel at every one of River Phoenix’s appearances on screen: “Although I haven’t seen him in 10 years, I know I’ll miss him forever.”
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