A LEAGUE OF HIS OWN
Special ingredient in Tom Hanks’s recipe is simple kindness, Sadaf Ahsan writes.
The original Woody doll — complete with cowboy hat, bandana and a family-friendly empty holster — came into my possession after much crying and whining when I was five years old. Like Andy from Toy Story, I scrawled my name in all-caps on the bottoms of his cowboy boots. He went to class with me, he watched cartoons with me, he slept by my side, he flew with me on my first flight. (I still remember how the attendants treated him like a real-life passenger to my great delight.) He wasn’t a cartoon character or Oscar-winner Tom Hanks; he was my best friend, just like I dreamt of him being each time I watched Toy Story.
Then about a decade later, I saw both Sleepless in Seattle and You’ve Got Mail — a powerful doubleheader. With words provided by Nora Ephron and chemistry alongside Meg Ryan, as Sam Baldwin and Joe Fox, Hanks somehow grew more charming. These characters were hotheaded, sarcastic, but endearing and kind, and experts at banter — an unconventionally attractive cocktail.
Soon, I would discover Philadelphia, The Green Mile, Forrest Gump, Cast Away, Apollo 13 and Saving Private Ryan. And then Hanks would morph into a hero of movie-star calibre; commanding, moving, Oscar-worthy. In between, there was Big, The Money Pit, That Thing You Do, Splash, Turner & Hooch, A League of Their Own, Road to Perdition, Catch Me If You Can, 30 Rock, the list goes on.
The star of so many seminal films, it isn’t just that he’s good at what he does (and highly bankable at that), it’s that there’s an inimitable recipe to Being Tom Hanks. And it starts with one specific ingredient: He’s notably kind. That’s the throughline found in so many of his characters and what makes them so consistently charming. Think Forrest Gump or Andy Beckett or Captain Miller or Chesley Sullenberger. Their heroism or triumph comes from their heart, but not in a superficial sense. So many of Hanks’s portrayals seems to say that it takes courage to be kind. Even Joe Fox and Charlie Wilson melt and become charismatic figures when they discover that, in order to succeed or lead, they have to be gracious.
Given the list of good deeds one can assemble from press clippings over the years, it’s not a stretch to presume that Hanks is convincing at projecting benevolence because he practices it in real life. Consider that time he found and returned a student’s ID card to her; that time he sent a cab driver free tickets to his Broadway show and remembered his name; that time he bought the White House press corps an espresso machine after learning they got their coffee from vending machines, and then upgraded it several years later; that time he refunded a couple he bumped into at a gas station who told him they didn’t much like his film Larry Crowne; that time he made everyone laugh and cry during his speech at Michael Duncan Clark’s memorial; that time he treated everyone at an In-n-out to free burgers after he and his wife Rita Wilson stopped by for lunch.
It’s why Saturday Night Live once christened him “America’s Dad.” He’s funny, even, in a generous way, the kind of late-night guest who always has a great anecdote to spare. All of it adds up to a warm, relatable persona — once the best friend, then the boy next door, now the chummy father figure. Just take one glance at his Instagram, where he shares shots of the many missing gloves he tends to find on the street, signing off each post with a simple “Hanx.” To make it even more dad-like, he collects typewriters and wrote his first book, Uncommon Type, on some of the 300 he owns.
With such a congenial nature, Ephron believed he could make the perfect presidential candidate — this was back in 2012, when Barack Obama was hoping for re-election. Her friend Arianna Huffington recalled the story to Jordan Roth for his blog, saying, “I remember, shortly before she died, having dinner with Nora Ephron, and she said, ‘Politics is about casting.’ Literally, she was going around asking who
Democrats should nominate, who Democrats should cast … she thought Democrats should cast Tom Hanks.”
While that doesn’t so much say that Hanks would make an ideal president, it does imply that there is no other man who could woo an American audience — of any demographic — quite like him. It seems only natural that his latest role should be that of Fred Rogers, the beloved children’s television host who was most revered for his compassion and empathy. There are only three paths to success, Rogers often noted: “The first way is to be kind. The second way is to be kind. The third way is to be kind.”
I watched Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood religiously as a child — with Woody nestled beside me. His show filled me with positivity and optimism — much like when I watched Toy Story or Big or A League of Their Own. I would put on a jacket and shoes just so I could remove them one by one alongside Rogers, singing along to the theme, which is still embedded in my brain now, not unlike Hanks’s voice.
Actually, one of the more popular tales of Hanksian kindness came in 2015, when the actor was making his way to a typewriter shop with his son. On the way, they bumped into a group of Girl Scouts who were having trouble selling cookies. Hanks bought four boxes and donated an extra $20. He agreed to take photos with fans walking by but only if they bought cookies. “He was so personable, so down to earth,” one of the mothers said, according to Page Six. Another added, “I never realized how distinctive his voice is. It was right out of a movie.”
Two decades later, my Woody doll is the only trace of my childhood to have made it through my youth, now nestled comfortably on a desk chair, bandana and hat long since lost. His voice box no longer works, half of it jutting it out over the top of his blue jeans, drawstring hanging. It’s a shame, because it’s a voice that I grew up with.
When I hear it, I’m transported to a time and place; I think of great friendship, of the sweetest romance, of so many heroes and their great adventures. Therein lies the power of a movie star with real heart.