It has become almost customary to open any discussion about contemporary Hollywood with a familiar lament: there are no more movie stars. Boo-hoo. The studios, as is evident to all, no longer build careers but brands; audiences largely no longer show up for a charismatic superstar but for a cinematic universe populated by various Chrises, from Evans to Pratt. And if one does look for an exception — the last Hollywood star, the name that comes up again and again — it is Tom Cruise, perhaps the final remnant of an era when a name above the title was enough to sell tickets.
But the truth is, that is not entirely accurate. The age of the Hollywood star may largely be over, but we still have Ryan Gosling. And that is no small thing.
“Project Hail Mary,” if you have not yet had the chance to see one of the most enjoyable and satisfying films of the year so far (yes, we know — there’s a war), is almost a one-man show for the 45-year-old Gosling, aside from a handful of minor human roles and one charming alien puppet. As a scientist drifting through space on a seemingly impossible mission to save humanity, Gosling fills the screen with his presence — vital, funny and moving — despite the hesitancy and insecurity that define the character. His Dr. Ryland Grace could have been somewhat insufferable, but he is simply captivating — which is no surprise, since this is precisely the screen persona Gosling has crafted over a career spanning more than two decades: captivating.
Trailer: 'Project Hail Mary'
(Video: Courtesy of Forum Films)
To be clear, this is not stardom in the old, flamboyant sense. Gosling is not omnipresent, does not chase projects at a frantic pace, does not dominate gossip columns and does not try to seize the frame by force. On the contrary, much of his charm stems from restraint and careful selectivity in choosing roles and projects (though he will soon join a major franchise with a new Star Wars film). Still, a look at his career reveals a thoughtful pattern: a blend of distinct artistic choices alongside a steady presence in the mainstream. A film like "Drive" turned him into an icon of stylized, minimalist cinema, while "Barbie" proved he can steal the show even from inside a well-oiled industrial machine. In between are projects like First Man, where he opts for introspection and restraint rather than self-aggrandizement.
Some may see this acting approach as a limitation — a tendency to repeat the same quiet, almost opaque persona. But it can also be read differently: as a deep understanding of screen presence. Gosling does not fill his characters with grand gestures; he creates a space the viewer steps into. It is a charisma that does not shout but draws you in — a kind of magnetism that refuses to explain itself, and precisely for that reason does not need to. He is simply cool, and whether you agree or not hardly matters to him — which only makes him cooler.
This may be where the difference between past and present stardom lies. Where stars once had to be larger than life, Gosling shows that today it is enough to be precise and consistent — not to impose presence, but to let it accumulate, role by role, choice by choice, until it becomes impossible to ignore.
And it is worth noting another layer Gosling has developed over the years, one that has become a key part of his appeal: self-deprecating humor. Unlike Cruise, for instance, who only embraced this late in his career (notably in his unhinged cameo in "Tropic Thunder") and still rarely leans into it, Gosling regularly plays with this side. His wonderful turn as Ken in "Barbie" proved this beyond doubt, but for a true showcase, look to his four appearances hosting "Saturday Night Live" — all among the show’s highlights in those seasons. His hysterical sketch as Beavis from "Beavis and Butt-Head" has already become an SNL classic, and the now-iconic clip in which he loses it over the use of the Papyrus font in Avatar — well, that is life itself.
In honor of our admiration for Gosling, and of "Project Hail Mary," we have selected his five greatest roles. Apologies to fans of "The Notebook" (sentimental, manipulative Nicholas Sparks dreck), "Blade Runner 2049" (which demonstrated that minimal expression is not necessarily ideal for playing an android) and "The Fall Guy" (which, unfortunately, showed that too much “I’m Ryan Gosling, look how cool I am” is not a good thing either).
Drive (2011)
In many ways, this is the film that made Gosling’s career. Not only because it was a surprise hit (more than $80 million on a roughly $15 million budget), but because it was the moment he fully emerged as a true movie star. He had earlier breakthroughs — "The Believer" (2001), the heart-melting "The Notebook" (2004), acclaimed turns in "Half Nelson" (2006), "Lars and the Real Girl" (2007) and "Blue Valentine" (2010), and a role that showcased his abs in "Crazy, Stupid, Love" (2011) — but "Drive" proved he could command the screen and magnetize audiences through sheer presence, even without speaking.
He does speak, occasionally, in Nicolas Winding Refn’s film — but very little. His character — a mechanic/stunt driver/getaway driver who bonds with his neighbor and her son while confronting violent gangsters tied to her ex-husband — is more archetype than fully fleshed-out figure. We do not know his name or his past; we know only that he is capable of chilling violence, unexpected tenderness and owning one of the most coveted jackets in film history. Gosling infuses this minimalist role with maximum charisma and a constant sense of danger. You simply cannot look away. A star is born.
The Nice Guys (2016)
In this delightful neo-noir crime comedy, still underrated and destined to be recognized as a classic, Gosling definitively proved his exceptional comedic abilities. It helps that the film was written and directed by Shane Black, master of witty, violent buddy movies, who pairs Gosling with Russell Crowe to perfect effect. Gosling plays a bumbling private investigator who fails at nearly everything, while Crowe is a brutish enforcer. Their paths cross in a search for a missing porn star, and despite starting with a punch to Gosling’s face, an odd friendship develops.
Gosling is irresistibly charming, even as he plays a complete idiot. The secret lies in his chemistry with Crowe, who gradually softens, and in Gosling’s flair for physical comedy. He shines particularly in Black’s trademark violent slapstick, cementing his status as a gifted comic performer.
La La Land (2016)
A not-so-unpopular opinion: Ryan Gosling cannot really sing — nor dance, it turns out. Yet that hardly hindered him in Damien Chazelle’s exuberant musical, one of 2016’s biggest hits, which earned him a second Oscar nomination. While many credit Emma Stone or their chemistry, Gosling’s performance as Sebastian, a jazz musician torn between artistic ambition and romantic stability, is equally vital.
Cynical at times but also warm and sincere, he creates a nuanced, passionate character deserving of far more recognition. Stone won the Oscar, while Gosling lost to Casey Affleck — a decision some still dispute.
First Man (2018)
Some criticized Gosling’s restrained, distant performance as Neil Armstrong in this serious biopic. But that restraint is precisely the point. Armstrong, grappling with the death of his young daughter, throws himself into a perilous mission as a form of escape.
Gosling excels in this challenging role. His Armstrong is not a conventional hero; his conflicts are internal, his emotions controlled. Yet Gosling subtly conveys depth and pain, making it a striking performance that many believe deserved an Oscar nomination.
Barbie (2023)
Even critics of Barbie often agree on one thing: Gosling’s Ken is its highlight. He maximizes his comedic strengths, turning the plastic sidekick into a scene-stealing character. Using his physicality, blank expressions and impeccable timing, Gosling transforms his limitations into comic gold.
Remarkably, he also generates genuine empathy for Ken — a character defined by his dependence on Barbie and his lack of identity. Even as Ken adopts exaggerated, off-putting traits, Gosling’s humor and self-awareness keep him human. And then there is “I’m Just Ken,” the film’s standout musical number, later reprised at the Oscars — an undeniable high point.