linney-giamatti-1.jpgAs I noted in a previous post, I think that Laura Linney and Paul Giamatti are two of the finest film actors working today. How they have avoided winning an Oscar, especially 3-times-nominated Linney, is a mystery to me (well, not exactly a mystery, given the Academy’s predilection for flashy “big acting” and box-office success). And watching them together in this month’s HBO miniseries John Adams has got me thinking about that oft-referenced concept of “chemistry” between actors.

It’s frequently said that when two actors have chemistry, it’s obvious, and when they don’t, it’s equally so. To me, Linney and Giamatti have it in spades. As Abigail and John Adams, the viewer — or this one, at least — can certainly believe that they like, love and respect one another and further, that they’ve done so for some time. There’s a well-worn quality to their relationship, as if they could finish one another’s sentences (if the screenplay were facile enough to permit it, that is). We can believe that they are well-aware of each others’ faults, but remain together out of great affection and love. And to me, all this adds up to that oft-abused concept of “chemistry.”

We’ve all seen pairings that have it and those that don’t — recent examples might be Hugh Grant and Drew Barrymore in the former category and Kate Hudson and Matthew McConaughey in the latter — and conventional wisdom says that you can’t predict it in advance.

So here’s the question: is it really true that you can’t “do” chemistry, that you can’t manufacture it, that it just happens? Or can two great actors like Linney and Giamatti cause it to come about by force of will, by the application of their considerable skills? In other words, can you create it through acting, or does it just have to blossom naturally?

Talk among yourselves (and in the comment section, below).