Jim Caviezel

Caviezel conveys feeling through his eyes with little need for dialogue. As Private Robert Witt in The Thin Red Line (1998), he gives us a reason to stay with Terrence Malick’s wandering war film. Witt is searching for meaning, but Caviezel makes him seem sincere rather than impressed by the questions he is asking. We were moved by that sincerity, especially when Malick’s writing threatened to become self-important. There is someone worth listening to beneath the solemn words.

It helps that Caviezel is part of an ensemble, with Sean Penn’s First Sergeant Edward Welsh and Elias Koteas’s Captain James Staros keeping the film close to recognisable people. He does not have to make every question matter on his own. Malick gives the soldiers so much thinking that some barely emerge as individuals, but Witt survives that problem. We want to know more about him, which is no small achievement in a film so willing to turn its attention elsewhere.

His breakthrough as Witt was followed by leading roles, including Edmond Dantès in The Count of Monte Cristo (2002). The larger turn came with Jesus in Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ (2004), which brought him international attention. His physical commitment there is clear, though a performance built around prolonged suffering gives an actor fewer ways to make a person particular. The ordeal can leave little else for us to consider.

Television then gave him a sustained lead as John Reese in Person of Interest (2011–2016). Across his work, characters prepared to sacrifice themselves for a cause recur. His restrained facial acting gives such men a way to show feeling without a speech. We would still like to see that restraint put to uses beyond solemn conviction.

We would welcome more directors giving him a character with room to think, rather than another test of endurance. There is more to ask of an actor than how much punishment he can make convincing. Start with The Thin Red Line, provided a patient war film appeals.