At the Academy Awards, he finally entered the winner's circle.
But for Chris Cooper, the joy of Oscar weekend was spending some time alone with his wife. Let others stress about fashion and last-minute schmoozing; Cooper was in his hotel room enjoying the benefits of an Estee Lauder mobile massage.
"They came to the room and set up music and lighting for us," he says incredulously, as if describing the eighth wonder of the world.
Cooper might have won a Best Supporting Oscar for his brilliant turn as a skanky South Florida orchid thief in "Adaptation," but life hasn't changed for the quiet, soft-spoken former rancher. He still lives in Plymouth, Mass., with his wife of 20 years, Marianne, and their 15-year-old son, Jesse, who is severely disabled.
The only difference around the Cooper household is the amount of attention the little gold statuette seems to garner. "Right now, the Oscar is on the hutch in our combination kitchen/living room/dining room," relates the 51-year-old actor. "We just keep it out because neighbors and friends come over, and that's the first thing that comes up."
By the time Cooper accepted his Oscar, he'd already finished his follow-up film, the $80 million drama, "Seabiscuit." In the movie, based on the surprise bestseller by Laura Hillenbrand, Cooper performs yet another disappearing act by receding quietly into the role of Tom Smith, a taciturn cowboy who turns to horse training to survive the Depression.
"I've admired Chris a long time, and it was fun to work with him because he never plays himself," notes co-star Jeff Bridges. "When he'd be doing a scene I'd always be kind of surprised, because I'd never seen him do a character like this before. It made me admire his work even more because you see that he's really hiding himself and getting into his role."
Cooper has nothing but respect for Smith, who was the first to see the potential of Seabiscuit, an animal considered by his original owners to be too lazy and bowlegged to be a champion. Seabiscuit was eventually bought by millionaire businessman Charles Howard (Bridges) and ridden to glory by a down-on-his-luck jockey named Red Pollard (Tobey Maguire).
For Cooper, finding his character wasn't exactly a day at the races. He talked endlessly to horse trainers. He contacted Smith's granddaughter to find out specifics about Smith, such as what kind of tobacco he chewed. And he consulted a rare book about life on the range which his wife stumbled upon at a yard sale.
Cooper's hard work paid off. Of his likeness to Smith, Hillenbrand has said, "It takes my breath away."
Even before he was approached about the movie, Cooper had devoured Hillenbrand's book. "What's amazing about Seabiscuit is that this horse's front legs were bent," says the actor. "It's well known that most horses can only stay down on their sides for maybe 40 minutes, which is why they usually sleep standing up.
"Well, Seabiscuit would sleep for hours and hours and hours because he literally had a leg problem and not the greatest contour. As a matter of fact, when he was a foal, the groomers hid him because they didn't want the owner to see him. They thought he had no chance at a racing career.
"But Tom Smith knew a good horse when he saw it. The paramount reason for his adopting Seabiscuit was that he saw a wonderful fighting spirit in this horse."
It's easy to understand why Cooper identifies so strongly with Seabiscuit. Just like the legendary horse, Cooper has always been a long shot for success.
A man who refuses to play the Hollywood game, he worked for years in movies and on stage before enjoying a breakthrough in John Sayles' "Lone Star" (1996). And even though he anchored the film with a sensitive portrayal of a tough Texas sheriff, it was co-star Matthew McConaughey, then on the cusp of stardom, who received all the ink.
Not that Cooper would complain. He is, like many of the characters he plays, a man of few words. A native of Kansas City, Kan., he grew up on a ranch about 15 miles west of Leavenworth. His dad was a doctor-cattleman and his mother was a housewife.
There was a time after he graduated from high-school that Cooper considered helping his father raise cattle for a living.
"It's outdoors, and I liked being outdoors, but it is tough, tough work," he says. "I've done different jobs. I've done construction. I worked at the Chiefs and Royals football and baseball stadiums. But ranching is unbelievably strenuous."
Dreams of being a rancher began to fade after Cooper started taking acting classes at the University of Missouri. After making the move to New York, Cooper studied with the notoriously exacting acting coach Stella Adler. He spent 12 years doing stage work with the Actors Theater of Louisville and the Seattle Repertory before Sayles gave him his first film role, as a pacifist union organizer in "Matewan" (1987).
In 1988, Cooper's life underwent a radical change when his only child, Jesse, was born three months prematurely. Three days after delivery, the youngster developed cerebral palsy.
When Cooper discusses his son, he grows more animated and passionate. Jesse, he says, "is the best thing that ever happened to us. He's in a wheelchair and he communicates only by computer, but he's taught me so much because he's just so incredibly focused.
"Now he's in a regular school, which we fought to get him into. He's an honors student, and he's doing great."
Amy Longsdorf is a Palmerton-based freelance writer on film.
Len Righi, Film/Music Editor
len.righi@mcall.com
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