WGTC Weekly Throwdown: What Other Literary Characters Would We Love To See Leonardo DiCaprio Play?

Gem – Cujo (Cujo)

There’s nary a day goes by when Leonardo DiCaprio isn’t sat before a swathe of the finest scripts, with producers desperate for a dapper leading man. The trouble for Leo is no doubt the simple fact: he’s done it all. He’s played lovable nutters, suave ruffians, callous bastards, con men, pretentious upper-middle class twits, confused writers….his list of triumphs goes on. When casting a look over his resume you can’t say DiCaprio has been typecast. Or can you?

Sticking out like the sorest of thumbs is an obvious omission, whose perpetuation throbs all over his resume (Ooh err.) – he’s never played an animal.

You might be sighing now, ready to click elsewhere in the hopes of escaping this tirade. Hold that index finger right where it is! The solution to Leo conquering new territory could lie in the literary adaptation of a feared character.

Stephen King’s books are the ripe hotbed forefathers of adaptations. They’re always getting remade, rebooted, redecorated, you name a novel…there’ll be a screen version. With a reboot of his 1983 novel, Cujo, in development, I nominate Leo for the titular role of the rabid St. Bernard!

It’s not entirely out of the question logistically. I mean, Andy Serkis has based an entire career from donning a CGI capture suit and leaping around gloomy caves as Tolkien’s schizo-git Gollum. Why couldn’t Leo do the same? He’s done all the typical lovey roles which attract applause and critical praise. What better a role than a savage St. Bernard.

The story is primarily set in one location; a beat up Ford Pinto, owned by Donna Trenton who spends the duration of Cujo trapped inside with her son Tad. A one locale narrative offers up room to iron out nuances in characters. Especially for Cujo. A poor canine who, after a bite on the nose from a bat, turns rabid and murderous – with a touch of the Jekyll and Hyde to him. It’s not his fault he likes ripping humans apart!

Beginning the tale like Beethoven and ending it like a syphilitic mutt, Cujo’s story arc is your typical hero quest. Going on an adventure he finds his day-to-day equilibrium disrupted as he is infected with rabies. He undergoes a change and must learn to live with it via slobbery, human destruction. It’s your standard Joseph Campbell hero with a thousand faces (except he’s got one and it’s plug ugly.)

Leo’s got eons of experience in being a total bastard. Calvin Candie from Django Unchained, for example. A manipulative predator who’ll do whatever it takes to get what he wants. Not a huge leap character wise, but for his first outing into CGI animal impersonation he’ll need all the help from his back catalogue he can get. Candie’s snarl could have done with more dribble, we’ve all said it, and Cujo could give Leo the opportunity to let that spittle soar.

His turn in the so-saccharine-sweet-it’ll-make-you-diabetic Titanic is proof enough that he can encapsulate Cujo’s harmless beginnings. The big doe eyes. The charm. The willingness to bag a hot bitch regardless of her social standing. It smacks of giant doggy behaviour.

You could think this argument is making a mockery of the entire Throwdown process. It is, I suppose. But now the seed’s been planted…you’re thinking “Leo as a raging dog? Yeah…I’d pay to see that.”