In 2006, Channing Tatum starred as Duke in She’s the Man, a movie based on Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. In it, he played a soccer star who falls for Amanda Bynes’ character, Viola, who’s masquerading as her brother so she can play soccer. It’s funny, it’s smart, and it’s a pretty interesting teen film. (Especially since it depicts the fluidity of gender in a relatively mature way.)
That same year Tatum also starred in Step Up, and in 2008 he made a cameo in Step Up 2: The Streets, proving his can-do, up-for-anything attitude – mainly because we all know nobody from original dance movies tends to show up for lower-budgeted sequels, unless you’re a legitimate team player.
But if generations of actors have proven anything, Tatum’s trajectory should have looked different. We’ve seen how many teen stars grow up to work consistently as adults but fail to grab the metaphorical brass ring. They play the comic relief, but never the superhero. They’re the indie darling, but never the big-budget star. They pop up in AMC series or on network dramas, but hardly work the late night show circuit. Tatum is one of a handful of actors who have owned their teen selves and sprung into superstardom. He is arguably part of an anomaly. But how?
“I think the biggest indicator towards Channing’s success is that he appeals to so many people,” said culture journalist Chris Mandle. “He’s incredibly good looking, but he tests equally well with men and women. Straight guys like him because he’s an action hero and a leading man, and he’s someone they can aspire to be like or hang out with. But he has a huge gay fanbase too, because not only is he hot and boyish but he’s also funny and goofy, and probably loves pizza.”
He also noted his rise to prominence has come as his projects (the Jump Street franchise, Magic Mike and Foxcatcher) have challenged the “preconceptions of him as a dull beefcake dude”.
And those preconceptions were a mistake. On top of She’s the Man boldly exploring gender norms (a big feat for teen films in 2006 and, let’s face it, even now), Mandle noted that Jump Street saw Tatum’s character realize jock tropes make him irrelevant (and problematic) outside his circle. Meanwhile, Foxcatcher is an exploration of the conflict that arises from the myth of male masculinity and bravado. Even Magic Mike explores the idea of manhood in an unconventional way, using exotic dancing as a template for examining what makes a man just that. These roles point to an actor who’s more than just That Guy Who Starred In That Dance Movie Once – they imply Tatum is a smart person who understands how the world works. And that, of course, makes us more forgiving about past roles in Dear John or GI Joe.
“Tatum seems to be constantly playing himself in every role, and his joy in doing so is addictive,” suggested Stacey May Fowles, columnist for the Globe and Mail. “Fans are more forgiving of someone so human, willing to excuse poor performances or bad project choices because of how endearing he is. Even when they’re on a pedestal of fame, we find ourselves identifying with these actors, having fun with them and becoming excited about what they’ll do next.”
There’s also a level of accountability.
“Channing did a funny interview last week where he admitted he hated doing GI Joe, and a few years back that kind of behavior from a multimillionaire would look like sour grapes,” said Mandle. “But he spun it in a really smart way: ‘My hands were tied. I was a really naive kid, I just wanted to make movies.’ And remarkably, people sided with him. That’s a sign of someone who knows what he’s doing.”
Intention isn’t just a trait exclusive to Tatum, either. Now tied to Marvel as Captain America, Chris Evans has been more than vocal about his intention to dial down acting work following the end of his contract. But instead of complaining without actually doing anything, he took control of his trajectory by making his directorial debut at TIFF last year – a feat, considering Evans also got his start on the teen movie circuit with 2001’s Not Another Teen Movie, before turns in Cellular, What’s Your Number? and the Fantastic Four franchise. And yet, as box office returns – and the critical acclaim for Captain America: Winter Soldier – show, we’re all very keen to stick with him.
“I think one of the most obvious things about actors like Tatum and Evans is this basic idea that they don’t seem to take themselves all that seriously, which is a really fundamental characteristic of anyone’s longevity in any career choice,” explained Fowles. “They’re likable because they seem to be enjoying what they do, yet also appear to be treating stardom more like a job than anything else; [they’re] less than invested in the trappings of limelight.”
That may be the key: like Tatum, Evans and Chris Pratt (who got his start on Everwood and on The OC) seem to be just doing their job. Even as recently as May, Pratt went on record saying he eventually hopes to leave LA so he and his wife, Anna Faris, can raise their son outside the Hollywood bubble. To Huffington Post culture writer and Two Brown Girls co-creator Zeba Blay, this hardworking attitude explains why years after their questionable first roles, we still care about these guys.
“I think the key to the longevity of these actors is that at some point, they decided to stop taking themselves seriously,” she says. “Other generations of teen stars have thought staying relevant meant trying to become the next Brando. It worked for Leo [DiCaprio], but generally no one is interested any longer in watching these guys try desperately to win an Oscar, even if they’re genuinely good actors.”
“Look at [James] Franco,” she said. “Look at [Zac] Efron. Even though they do the dramatic thing now and again, they understand that sometimes they have to parody themselves to make them feel more accessible. We go through all these phases of male star types, and I think at the moment we’re in this interesting time where people prefer goofy hunks. I think it’s why Chris Pratt has suddenly had this epic surge in his career. And I think Tatum recognized that early on.”
Fowles agreed: “Perhaps given the hyper-transparency of the digital age we live in, actors like this have learned that serious artifice is something impossible to maintain, and in letting down their guard and making fun of themselves both onscreen and off they’ve got us rooting for them.
“Disarming always has staying power, whether you’re playing a stripper or a superhero,” she adds. “And it would appear they’ve tapped into that as a method of ongoing success.”
So maybe it’s that simple: the reason we’ve seen the propulsion of Tatum’s, Evans’ and Pratt’s careers is because, despite being actors, they’re unabashedly playing and owning themselves. Unlike former teen star Jared Leto, they never paused to start a band or attempt the avant-garde before returning to acting. Unlike former tween pinup Jonathan Taylor-Thomas, they stuck with the industry instead of going to school.
“I feel like actors like Channing Tatum and Chris Evans have managed to maintain relevancy past their earlier youth because for once, we have a space for that age of male stars,” said HelloGiggles columnist and TV producer Erin Mallory Long. “I think in the past we’ve had tons of space for young, adorable male stars and room for grizzly older stars, and nothing in between. I think and hope this is a change also happening for female stars, but I don’t think that’s the case.
“But I do think we’re allowing male stars to grow up and even watch them grow up a little more onscreen,” she added. “[Which] allows them to turn into adult movie stars.”
“I think for any star, [longevity] is a combination of luck and marketing, and it also helps if you’re white and male,” said Kiva Reardon, founder of Cléo, a journal of film and feminism. “Like any career, relevancy depends on making key choices in your field, and for actors that means selecting parts that will resonate. It then comes down to spinning that and getting the right interviews at the right times. And as for the second caveat, there is an expiry date that comes sooner for women in Hollywood – and that the industry’s interest and investment in non-white characters is subpar to say the least.”
Which is true: arguably, in conjunction with their realness, smarts and obvious work ethic, actors like Pratt, Evans and Tatum are also reaping the benefits of being white male actors in a very white and male-friendly industry. Reardon added that they may be less an anomaly than our new definition of teen actors and/or teen roles.
“I think the reason we’re so aware of careers lasting beyond teenagehood is because that’s a relatively new bracket,” she said. “Teens really came into being in the 1950s, mainly as a new marketing means, and it’s now considered to be a crucial age. We place so much emphasis on teen years that they’re now grounded in biographies as an elemental period. So what has changed is the intensity of the star system and media industry around it – there’s always been gossip magazines, but there hasn’t been iCloud nude hacks. This creates a different dynamic for surviving in the industry, especially for women.
“Just think of how much easier the transition to mature – often sexual – roles is for ex-Mickey Mouse Club dudes than it is for girls-not-yet-women.”
As one noteworthy teen was once told, with great power comes great responsibility. Now that the stars have aligned for former male teen stars and ushered them into their bright, opportunistic futures, it’s time for them to create and facilitate space for non-white and non-male actors who have yet to be afforded the privilege of evolving past their former selves.
Fortunately we’re talking about three of the most likable guys in Hollywood. So if their public personas mean anything, they already know this.
