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Keeping it ‘Real’

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Times Staff Writer

An odd reverence comes over Ryan Gosling as he describes the weeks he spent on the outskirts of wintry Toronto in an unheated garage apartment with Bianca, an eerily lifelike silicone sex doll who costars with him in his new film, “Lars and the Real Girl.” As he speaks, his deep-set eyes wander out the window, lost in memories of their emotional scenes and the “calming presence” the petite, heavy-lidded brunet brought to the set. Their bond grew so meaningful, in fact, that he took Bianca home with him to his place in L.A. after the movie wrapped. Now, she spends her time reading by a window or watching him cook.

“If you could see her, if you could spend 10 minutes with her, you could see what I mean, you’d fall in love with her too,” he says. “She’s got beautiful little freckles. You think that she’s looking at you sometimes. Or that you just caught her blinking. We just kind of developed this bond where I felt safe in the scenes with her to try anything, do anything. I can understand in some way, not just Lars, but the guys who have these dolls.”

Gosling is clearly performing, having a little fun with the promotion of the sweetly eccentric comedy that opens Friday. Or maybe he isn’t. The 26-year-old actor is a tough read. With just a half-dozen films to his credit and an Oscar nomination last year for “Half Nelson,” he has already been heralded as one of the best actors of his generation. But Gosling doesn’t consider acting an art form. At least, not the way he does it. His taste in roles -- and influences -- veer toward the quixotic. Marlon Brando is amazing, he says, but it’s Gene Wilder’s performances that he’d like to emulate. His first thought when he read the script for “Lars and the Real Girl” was, “It’s too bad Gene Wilder can’t do this, because this could be one of the greatest movies of all time.”

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There’s something of the Everyman in Gosling’s presentation on this day with the full beard and frame-clinging but durable looking T-shirt-and-slacks combo. Then there’s the puzzling detail of his digital watch, a curious timepiece circa 1980 that he touches gently as he talks. Gosling puts his elbows on the table and leans into the conversation. He laughs easily, almost nervously. When he spots some sweets on a table, he jokes about his solid physique, an apparent consequence of his time off, cracking, “No cookies for the fat guy, huh?”

In “Lars and the Real Girl,” Gosling is Lars Lindstrom, a lonely introvert who still wears the baby blanket his long-dead mother knitted for him and has a fear of being touched. He finds the perfect mate on the Internet in Bianca, a 100-pound, anatomically correct “RealGirl” that costs him thousands of dollars. But to the delusional Lars, Bianca is a living, breathing woman with ideas of her own, and he introduces her to his brother (Paul Schneider) and sister-in-law (Emily Mortimer) as a modest, wheelchair-bound missionary from the tropics on sabbatical.

Of course, it’s clear to them from Bianca’s risqué clothes, her gaping mouth (with tongue) and flexible limbs that this doll wasn’t meant for God’s work. But that’s about as close to prurient as the film ever gets. Lars and Bianca are strictly platonic. Thanks in part to Patricia Clarkson’s delicate touch as the psychologist who encourages Lars’ family to act as if Bianca is real, the film unfolds with surprising tenderness. The story’s crisis ultimately reveals Lars to be the heart of his tightknit community, but also a soul so wracked by grief and longing that it’s only after they embrace his doll that he can truly experience their love.

Lars is a softer, more innocent role for Gosling, one that fully engages his talent for projecting effortless melancholy. It’s one that he ranks among his favorites, along with the morally ambiguous inner city teacher in “Half Nelson” and the self-hating fascist in “The Believer.” The lovelorn dreamboat he played in “The Notebook,” a part that launched him as a sex symbol, apparently doesn’t make the cut. “This and ‘Half Nelson’ and ‘The Believer’ are the kind of movies I’m trying to make,” he says. “I look at [‘The Believer’] and it has elements of humor to it as well. I think that ‘Half Nelson’ does too. It has a balance. It has a lightness to it. It’s not just bleak and dark and depressing. That’s just boring. They’re movies about characters that aren’t sexy. I’m just trying to find movies that don’t believe that there’s one ultimate truth.”

The “Lars” script, penned by “Six Feet Under’s” Nancy Oliver, brought Gosling to tears, with a poignancy that reminded him of other offbeat comedies like “Harvey,” “Being There” and “Harold and Maude.” But he seriously doubted that anyone could strike the right tone in the film. That is, until newcomer Craig Gillespie assured him he was going to shoot Bianca as though she had a nudity clause in her contract. Then he dove into the part, approaching the role as a romantic lead in a tragic love story.

Gillespie was ready to loosen the reins on his actors after the bumpy ride on the set of his first film, “Mr. Woodcock.” He gave Gosling a lot of room to experiment. Gosling mapped out scenes weeks in advance, bringing myriad suggestions that Gillespie often incorporated into the film. It was Gosling’s idea, for example, to have Lars sing “L-O-V-E,” the song so famously recorded by Nat King Cole, to Bianca while she sits on the ground in the woods as he lies on his back in a treehouse above her. The change put a dent in the budget -- requiring the film’s only crane shot (of Lars through the tree branches) and a hefty licensing fee for the song. “The smallest scenes would become these monumental beautiful moments that were really nothing on the page,” said Gillespie. “He wanted to do something that felt very intimate and revealing about his character. He had this idea. Just because of his passion for it, I thought it was a great thing to let him try. It shows [Lars] at his most optimistic in the film and his most abandoned joy. As an audience it also shows how delusional he is.”

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Gillespie chose Bianca from the RealDoll manufacturer in San Marcos, Calif., precisely for her realistic appearance and her “soulful quality.” She looked relaxed and natural, unlike the other dolls whose cartoonish proportions felt illicit. On the set, Bianca had her own dressing room, her own handlers, her own magazines to read between takes. Gillespie instructed everyone to treat her with the same courtesy they would use with a living actor -- no wisecracks, no antics. It was, Gillespie said, in large part out of respect for Gosling and his enormous commitment to the part. “Ryan was so in character, it was almost a transference,” said Gillespie. “They’re doing it for Ryan. You have to have a certain respect for Ryan.”

Fight for the character

Gosling grew up with modest means in small Cornwall, Ontario, raised by Mormon parents. He famously landed a spot on “The All New Mickey Mouse Club” alongside a crew of future pop stars -- Justin Timberlake, Christina Aguilera and Britney Spears -- and spent a decade in television. Then Gosling’s career veered sharply toward more serious fare. Now he researches his roles so intensely and is so passionate about each choice he makes that Gosling said that for a long time he thought confrontation with directors, producers, even the studio reps, was just part of the process. His collaboration with Gillespie on “Lars,” he said, was one of the first that wasn’t “rooted in conflict.”

“My job is to fight for this character, no matter what,” he said. “Even if that’s against you. Craig was someone I just didn’t have to do that with.”

“He’s not at all precious,” said Gosling’s “Lars” costar Mortimer. “There’s nothing alienating about the way he carries on getting his job done. He works really hard. That’s the thing I really took away from watching him -- how dedicated he is. It made me feel ashamed of myself a lot of the time. He takes responsibility of his performance.”

Yet for all this intense commitment to character, Gosling is pragmatic about his work. In addition to acting, he’s eager to start directing his own film, a documentary about child soldiers in Africa. If he secures financing, he’ll start next year, after starring in Peter Jackson’s cinematic adaptation of Alice Sebold’s bestselling “The Lovely Bones.”

“I don’t know what art is exactly, but I’m pretty sure it’s not something you get paid to do,” he said. “It may be for other people. I just mean for myself. This is a job. I’ve always treated it like a job. I think it’s easier to get better at it if you don’t lose your identity in it.”

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gina.piccalo@latimes.com

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