Rush, pictured with the costume he wore when playing Captain Barbossa in , describes his ability to adapt to a diverse range of characters as 'shape-shifting'. Source: Herald Sun
THE 1997 Best Actor Oscar he won for Shine has pride of place. So does the Emmy he was awarded for The Life and Death of Peter Sellers in 2005 and the Tony for Exit The King in 2009.
But in helping assemble a new exhibition about his stellar stage and screen career, Geoffrey Rush has looked for other signifiers of success beyond his celebrated "Triple Crown". Like a Lego figurine and a Fantales wrapper.
In The Extraordinary Shapes of Geoffrey Rush, opening today at Arts Centre Melbourne, these humble objects are displayed formally as museum exhibits.
"The curators asked if I'd lend the Oscar, the Tony and the Emmy, as well as the (2012) Australian of the Year slab," says the actor, who turns 62 today. "I said, 'Sure, but it would be nice for me to keep all that in perspective by surrounding them with really tiny little things'."
The Lego figurine - presented in a perspex box - depicts Captain Barbossa, the swashbuckling buccaneer Rush has played in numerous Pirates of the Caribbean movies. Last year's Young Australian of the Year Marita Cheng presented it to him as a "token" of their shared time in the national spotlight. And Rush says: "I was really touched. The Oscar and this (figurine) are both equal, honourable gifts. They talk to each other."
As for the Fantales wrapper ... that was found by a family member who liked the way its crinkled surface neatly summarised Rush's Hollywood career.
"Yeah, it has its place," he says. "I want the whole thing to have a sort of sideshow alley feel so when people walk in, they get attracted to whatever they see across the room. I didn't ever want it to be a po-faced museum experience."
Trophies and photographs, props and posters, costumes and scripts ... The Extraordinary Shapes of Geoffrey Rush brims with diverse material drawn from Victoria's Performing Arts Collection and Rush's own ad hoc archive.
"When I was at school, I was given to feel I'd let them down because I didn't have any sports trophies," he says. "So, I joined a hardy little bunch of colleagues to run the school drama club and kept programs and photos from that to celebrate the comradeship that we were experiencing. I sort of kept doing that when I went to university. Then, when I became a professional actor (in 1971), I started filling scrapbooks and crappy photo albums. Because theatre is completely ephemeral, the only mementos you've got are bibs and bobs.
Rush exhibition signifies his success Source: Herald Sun
"By the time I got into films, I was taking it more seriously and got myself some really good albums with acid-free paper. But from about 2003 onwards, it's just been in cardboard boxes ... luckily, the curatorship here is so meticulous. They've got everything properly catalogued and dated."
The Arts Centre has previously honoured Dame Edna Everage, Kylie Minogue, Nick Cave and Reg Livermore with exhibitions. On this occasion, the subject has been unusually accessible - diving into the archive vaults, selecting objects for display, even penning a catalogue essay.
Rush explains: "I'm not going to write a memoir. This is it. That's why I've been hands-on ... I want to add my voice."
It was agreed early on to arrange the show thematically and group Rush's many roles in clusters.
"Clowns, Fools and Ratbags" features material about Poprishchin from The Diary of A Madman (1989) and Pseudolus in A Funny Thing Happened On The Way to the Forum (2012). "Famous, Infamous and Forgotten" has the Marquis de Sade from Quills (2000) rubbing shoulders with Sir Francis Walsingham from Elizabeth (1998) and The Golden Age (2007). And "Dames and Dandies" unites Lady Bracknell from The Importance of Being Earnest (2011) with The Drowsy Chaperone's Man in a Chair (2010).
Then there's the "Fantastical" section where we are reminded of Rush's ability to play Snoopy, a pelican and a five-year-old boy. Has the exhibition helped him make sense of his choices?
"When you're in the middle of it, it all feels a bit random," he says, "but in acting, I do enjoy the extreme ends of the spectrum. That's probably underscored the areas where I've presented myself."
Connecting everything is Rush's rare ability to inhabit another human being by adopting "extraordinary, extravagant shapes".
"I tend not to start from the psychological point of view of a character," he explains. "I try to imagine what the silhouette or the outline of a person is going to look like. You then find the locomotion. How does this person enter or retreat from a space? Where is their centre of gravity?"
Rush, who trained in mime and physical theatre in Paris, looks for clues in scripts. Exhaustive research also precedes his transformations. But it is not until he climbs into a costume - "I see them as a complete body mask" - that Rush often 'finds' the character he's seeking.
Geoffrey Rush at the opening of a new exhibition of his costumes, photos, film and personal items. Source: Herald Sun
"Having done many historical costume pieces, you do get to play with phenomenal gear," he says. Barbossa's wide, feathered hat in Pirates of the Caribbean is a favourite piece. On set, Rush was reluctant to part with it "because that, to me, is the brain of the character. All his vanity and pomposity, all his danger and cunning and ego is contained in that hat".
Rush's latest movie role could not be more different. In The Book Thief, a wide-screen adaptation of the Australian bestseller about Nazi Germany, he plays "the most average, ordinary guy, a quiet monosyllabic fellow who happens to play the accordion".
Scrutinising period photographs, Rush noticed some people - "Let's say the 10 per cent who were a bit worried about the rise of National Socialism" - resisted short back and sides.
"Having a full head of hair was a subtle element I worked into my character," he says. "There was also something about hearing the bellows of an accordion and feeling the rhythms ... as though, THAT was his voice."
Rush's own speaking voice is low and dark with occasional bursts of fluttering laughter. His eyes masked by round tortoiseshell specs are watchful but there's nothing guarded about his body language. One leg hooked over the other, he is always leaning back and forth to make a point.
"I'm a sentence in a much bigger Australian story," he says. "I journeyed through that early period of subsidised theatre, through the renaissance of Australia's film industry to a time now where we can tour a Melbourne production of Ionesco (Exit The King) and take it to Broadway ... which is really thrilling."
A giant poster wall promises to chart this cultural progression but the most watched part of the exhibition may well be a movie clip reel where Rush's alter egos seemingly talk to one other.
"It's a bit loopy," he says. "Self-observing in a playful way."
Does the reel include scenes from The Life and Death of Peter Sellers?
"Oh, yes. Every day I sat in the make-up van for that, they were putting on a different look ... Sellers' influence is all over this (exhibition) in a way."
Sellers famously declared: "I have no personality of my own. I had it surgically removed."
Happily, Rush seems to know exactly who he is and where he wants to be. Work takes him around the world but he's stayed rooted in Melbourne, in suburban Camberwell, where he can be with family and pursue his passions for music, film, theatre and art.
Is the best yet to come?
Rush, the man of almost a thousand faces, looks down his nose at me and says: "Of course. I'm not retiring ... to be continued!"
The Extraordinary Shapes of Geoffrey Rush, Arts Centre Melbourne (Gallery 1), until October 27. Free.
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