Titans: 10 Best Performances In The HBO Max Show | Screen Rant
Legendary theater director Konstantin Stanislavski once remarked that "there are no small parts, only small actors." The same can be said for HBO Max's Titans, a show that features a variety of parts, both large and small, where the size of the role is not necessarily indicative of the quality of the portrayal as everyone delivers in spades.
Stanislavski believed that an "actor must use his imagination to be able to answer all questions (when, where, why, how). Make the make-believer existence more definite.” In essence, imbue the viewer with empathy for the character. In a show with as many characters as Titans, some performances have been more effective at this than others.
One of the meatier roles in the series, Anna Diop's Koriand'r goes from superpowered amnesiac to queen without a crown to an alien with new powers but no definitive purpose, all in a matter of a few seasons. Diop plays the part with wide-eyed aplomb, giving Starfire an otherworldly--literally--innocence that balances out some of the character's more blatantly violent actions. Because of her role as an unabashed hero, it's quite easy to forget that in one of her earliest scenes, Koriand'r casually breaks a man's neck. This is a testament to Diop's performance.
Her Starfire is possessed with such an assumption of righteousness that it's impossible to believe that her intentions are anything but good, even when she's attacking friends and teammates during her dangerous blackout-causing trances.
Slade Wilson is a laconic character by nature, so it's only fitting that his lines would be sparing despite his role as the main villain of season 2. Regardless, Esai Morales takes the few lines he has as Deathstroke and turns a ruthless assassin responsible for the murder of hundreds into a sympathetic father just trying to do right by his family. Deathstroke, as indicated by his name, is not to be taken lightly, and Morales is able to convey how dangerous this man is with an elocution that's barely above a whisper.
It's almost as if every line he delivers is exhaled, his Slade Wilson being so filled with bitter resignation and guilt that even his revenge on Dick Grayson and the Titans is more based on duty than desire. For Deathstroke, his death at the hands of his own daughter is more catharsis--symbolized by his son Jericho leaving his body--than tragedy.
During seasons 1 and 2, Alan Ritchson worked with the part he was given, playing a humorously dim brute who was effectively juxtaposed with the thoughtful Dick Grayson and gentle--relative to the average violent vigilante--Dawn Granger. It wasn't until season 3 that he finally got his time to shine. Always a source of laughs in an otherwise dark and serious series, Ritchson grounds Hank's death with heart and humor, going light where another actor might've gone heavy, and it works to touching effect.
He continues this role later on when Donna and Tim find him in the afterlife; one of the few characters that could make limbo actually seem somewhat cool. As Ritchson has moved on to bigger things--the titular role in Amazon's series Reacher--audiences have probably seen the last of this half of Hawk and Dove.
Much like Alan Ritchson, Curran Walter's Jason Todd was rather one-note in seasons 1 and 2, thanklessly fulfilling the role of prodigal son who never learns from his mistakes. His petulance didn't exactly make his character likable--the audience probably enjoyed Dick Grayson tossing him to the floor like a rag doll more than Dick did--so it was fantastic to see the Red Hood storyline play out in season 3 and give Walters a vital, starring role.
He's able to channel the dysfunctional father-son relationship between Bruce Wayne and Jason Todd and turn the frustration his character felt in previous seasons into something more powerful. His redemption is wisely drawn out over the course of the season, and Walters plays the insecurity of Todd's vacillation from hero to villain perfectly--the viewer gets the feeling that Todd would be a hero if he wasn't so afraid.
Donna Troy is introduced as an individual who knows what she wants and goes for it. Conor Leslie is up for the challenge, instilling Donna with a strength and confidence that provides a necessary emotional ballast to a brooding Dick Grayson. In season 2 flashbacks, Leslie is given the opportunity to display her versatility, showing a side of Donna Troy the audience has not seen before: self-conscious, unsure, and utterly confused on how to respond to the continued affections of Aqualad. Capturing Donna's vulnerability superbly, Leslie is able to provide emotional context to her guilt-ridden character in season 2's present.
Titans is a series filled with damaged heroes, and while Wonder Girl doesn't exactly escape this designation, Leslie plays her with her emotions clearly on her sleeve, a refreshing standout in a series filled with repressed characters.
There is no role with greater expectations in the DC universe, and that's including Superman, than that of Bruce Wayne AKA Batman. There is a tragic dichotomy to the character (sophisticated yet brutal, successful yet tortured, imposing yet vulnerable) which Iain Glen embodies with stoic ambivalence. His Wayne is at times world-weary and exhausted, but also strong and confident--the viewer gets the feeling that even though he's past his prime, his fearsome reputation is still much deserved.
Glen does a spectacular job of playing two versions of the character: the borderline abusive, tough love father figure in Dick Grayson's subconscious and the actual Bruce Wayne, a man of guarded magnanimity and an inability to express his feelings to those he loves.
It always seems like the role of a brilliant sociopath brings out the best in an actor, and Vincent Kartheiser's portrayal of Dr. Jonathan Crane is no different. His Scarecrow starts off as not very scary at all, instead being a charming, almost cowardly, pothead who might be the least intimidating inmate at Arkham. But as the viewer is drawn deeper into his pathos, a truth emerges; like a cornered animal, Kartheiser's Crane demonstrates that it's the most scared organisms that can be the most dangerous.
His list of "accomplishments" include breaking his mother's neck, gutting a pizza delivery driver, and murdering an entire city section of Gotham. That the Scarecrow can perform all of these actions and still remain an utterly weak and pathetic figure owes much to Kartheiser's characterization, perhaps best summed up by his futile, and relatable, DIY attempt to drill through a thick steel plate.
There's no more important relationship in Titans than the father-daughter pairing of Dick Grayson and Rachel Roth. It carries season 1--generally considered the weakest of the three--and acts as the heart and soul of the series. Of course, this wouldn't be possible if it weren't for Teagan Croft's sensitive and understated performance as the empathic Raven. Wisely avoiding leaning too hard into the emo-goth girl trope, Croft instead plays to the more relatable and deeper aspects of Rachel's arc: her loneliness, her self doubt, and her struggle to discover who she truly is.
Channeling a Leon: The Professional-era Natalie Portman, Croft instills Rachel with a blend of physical/emotional fragility and precocious inner strength that makes the viewer believe that she can be both predator and prey. Her absence from the first half of season 3 is a boon and a curse; it enables other characters to shine but leaves the series bereft of one of its emotional lynchpins.
Titans is essentially a show about Dick Grayson. That being so, it lives and dies--literally, considering his time in the Lazarus pit--on the performance of Brenton Thwaites. Much like his frequent scene partner, Teagan Croft, Thwaites imbues his character with an introspective demeanor that draws the viewer in. He plays Dick for the contradiction that he is, a leader of a superhero team who constantly goes off to fight battles by himself. He trains his students by telling them to deal with their demons but often ignores his own.
In this way, Dick can be a total hypocrite, which isn't exactly the most likable of traits, but somehow Thwaites pulls it off without the viewer totally hating the character. In fact, along with Rachel, Dick is easily the emotional lynchpin of the series, and the show noticeably loses narrative steam when he's offscreen for too long. This is in no small part due to Thwaites engaging, albeit measured, performance.