'Late Fame' review: Willem Dafoe and Greta Lee mesmerize in tale of New York City, art, and identity

There's nothing Willem Dafoe can't do. The critically revered American actor has played everything from Jesus Christ (The Last Temptation of Christ) to the Green Goblin (Spider-Man) from an iconic vampire (The Shadow of the Vampire) to a manic vampire hunter (Nosferatu), and a big-hearted motel manager (The Florida Project). And even with this list, I've probably missed a lot of people's favorite Dafoe roles (see also Finding Nemo, The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou, At Eternity's Gate, The Boondock Saints, Poor Things, and I could go on, and on.) The thrill of a Dafoe movie is that you can't predict where his performance will go, other than it will be riveting. In his latest, Late Fame, he delivers a nuanced performance, playing an everyman who was once a poet. Starring opposite Greta Lee, the pair create a portrait of a particular breed of New York artist who has flirted with fame but never gotten her number. The result is a film that's warmly earnest, achingly funny, and brilliantly humane. Cheers to screenwriter Samy Burch, who earned an Academy Award nod for turning the sordid story of Mary Kay Letourneau into the darkly hilarious melodrama May December. Another remarkable tra