“Didn’t he play a serial killer?” an editor asked when I brought up Gary Cole’s name not long ago. Not a serial killer, but the 1984 TV miniseries “Fatal Vision” was Cole’s first major role. Playing Jeffrey MacDonald, the real-life Army doctor who was convicted in 1979 of killing his wife and children, Cole – a mainstay of Chicago’s then-burgeoning Off-Loop theater scene – stepped into the role with barely any on-camera experience.
“Although such notables as Christopher Reeve were considered for the part,” People magazine noted at the time, “the actor who plays the perfect son run amok in the NBC docudrama … is an unknown whose work has seldom been seen outside his native Chicago. And while Gary Cole, 28, offers none of Redford’s drawing power or rough-hewn good looks” – oh yeah, MacDonald apparently wanted Robert Redford to play him in the movie – “he delivers a performance that had preview audiences cheering and critics predicting an Emmy.”
An Emmy nomination never did materialize, but a long and varied TV and film career was born. “There Is a Staggering 37.4 Percent Chance That This Actor Was in Your Favorite Movie or Television Show” according to the jokey slide-show headline featuring all things Cole on the pop culture Web site Pajiba. Cole just has a knack for landing iconic roles. The suspender-wearing, middle-manager nightmare known as Lumbergh in “Office Space.” A bewigged, utterly charming Mike Brady in “The Brady Bunch” films. Will Ferrell’s scuzzy, estranged father in “Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby.” All confident men who can’t quite mask an underlying idiocy.
Cole’s appeal, whether he’s working big or dialing it back, is always that he seems in on the joke – and he knows how to time a straight-faced punch line with just the right amount of deeply buried sass and bite. He might be among the most underrated comedic performers working today.
His list of TV credits is just as long, appearing on everything from “Curb Your Enthusiasm” to “30 Rock” to “Desperate Housewives” to “Entourage.” Every time you look up, it seems, there’s Gary Cole.
This has been an especially strong year. Adding to his recurring role on CBS’s “The Good Wife” (as ballistics expert and Diane Lockhart love interest Kurt McVeigh), this spring he joined the second season of the HBO political satire “Veep” as a White House numbers cruncher able to squash the vice president’s credibility with little more than an annoyed glance – a wonderfully meta-comical turning of the tables from Cole’s callow vice president (aka Bingo Bob) on “The West Wing.”
Less than a month after “Veep’s” season finale, I had to laugh when Cole’s mug showed up yet again on another series because, of course it would. This summer he has a multi-episode arc on USA’s “Suits” as a special prosecutor all too happy to flash a garbage-eating grin at his former protege before shoving a few slices of humble pie in the guy’s face. It is a show that’s better than most on basic cable when it comes to bridging the gap between disposable, easy-to-watch antics and serialized drama.
In the next few weeks, Cole told me, he’ll be back juggling work on the CBS and HBO shows. “The good news for me is that ‘The Good Wife’ is in New York (despite the Chicago setting), and ‘Veep’ is in Baltimore,” he said by phone from his home in Los Angeles. “That’s a two-hour train ride, so it’s just (makes a whistle sound) zip up and back and it all works.”
A good portion of the “Veep” scripts, Cole said, are derived from rehearsal-generated improvisations. “It’s a different animal, and it’s not where I came from,” is how he put it. “It’s not how I was trained. I don’t think I do it very well. I’m learning basically through necessity.”
It’s funny, though. Watching Cole on screen, it seems like he could have just as easily followed a sketch and improv path early on. “One thing I’ve learned is that it also depends upon the character you’re playing,” he said. “I was just in Melissa McCarthy’s next movie, which won’t be out until next summer, called ‘Tammy,’ which is basically a road trip movie with her and Susan Sarandon. Our scenes all took place either in a bar or a motel room; I was usually drunk and so was Susan Sarandon. I play a low-life, bar-crawling lech aaannnnd I don’t know what I’m saying here, but I found that guy easier to improvise than a highly intelligent Washington political adviser who is very introverted and always using three-dollar words.”