Size Doesn't Matter: Little People, Big Bads

Sidekick or sideshow. If not in full-body costume, it’s often the best Hollywood’s little people can hope for. Heroes generally come no shorter than Tom Cruise, and villain roles? That’s usually an even taller order. But if any actor is leading a charge up a ladder to this specific glass ceiling, it’s Peter Dinklage.

His reserved portrayal of repressed rage in 2003’s “The Station Agent" displayed his range. Today, his Emmy-winning turn as Tyrion Lannister on HBO’s “Game of Thrones” has made him a mainstream darling. Now, he’s arguably seizing roles from full-sized actors. In the “X-Men” comics, Bolivar Trask resembles a beefed-up John Slattery. In “X-Men: Days of Future Past,” Dinklage plays the scientist who hawks his high-tech mutant-hunting wares to rogue nations after ours shuns him.

Never once is his size mentioned, and as seizing power in chaos emboldens Trask, Dinklage’s performance dwarfs any fanboy distraction this difference might create. Seeing malevolent masterminds in this physical form is rare, but Trask looms large among these other little people with big, diabolical plans.

Peter Dinklage as Simon Bar Sinister, “Underdog” (2007)

In “X-Men,” Dinklage certainly trades up from this barely feature-length adaptation of the 1960s cartoon. After he’s crippled and scarred in a lab fire, his dog-hating geneticist vows revenge on the canine hero. Even by PG-rated standards, Dinklage is grotesque, resembling “Green Lantern’s” Hector Hammond or “Last Action Hero’s” Ripper. His gonzo grace notes keep this shaggy dog tolerable—namely wink-wink evocations of Colin Clive-ish craziness and verbally arrogant arrows lobbed at Cad (Patrick Warburton, the Bronn to his Tyrion). Still, Simon is hauled off to jail by the scruff of his neck, and by Jim Belushi’s rent-a-cop at that.

Deep Roy as Aaron, “Eastbound & Down”(2010)

You know this four-decade entertainer as this century’s sweetly scolding Oompa-Loompa or Jabba the Hutt’s cute alien flautist. In just one scene of this HBO series, Roy crudely countered any cuddliness. When pompous pitcher Kenny Powers heads to Mexico, he falls in with this cokehead cock-fighter. His bloodlust and bedhead untamed, Aaron assumes a swordsman’s stance with his pig-sticker and asserts himself with twice the confidence of Kenny’s usual whipping boy. As Aaron rolls Kenny for money, Roy’s helium voice (often unheard or overdubbed) shouts with profuse, proud profanity. Kenny ultimately has the last laugh, yet Aaron will undoubtedly rise again.

Zelda Rubinstein as Alice Pressman, “Anguish” (1987)

Whether it’s the miniscule medium of “Poltergeist” or the smartass organist in “Sixteen Candles,” Rubinstein’s girlish lilt is imprinted upon ’80s pop culture. She seems harmlessly daffy here, too, as a bird-loving matriarch. But this mash-up of Brian De Palma and Dario Argento reveals her hypnotic hold over a son who cuts out victims’ eyeballs on her command. “Anguish” cautions viewers about hypnosis scenes with William Castle hucksterism, and it doubles down on meta-movie gimmickry. For all its trickery, the most chilling asset is Rubinstein dipping into a guttural growl, shouting, “All the eyes of the city will be ours!”

Tony Cox as Marcus “The Prince” Skidmore, “Bad Santa” (2003)

It’s natural to assume diminutive Marcus is the sidekick in a Santa-and-elf duo that robs shopping malls. But once you see his full-sized cohort’s full-blown alcoholism, you understand this grift is Marcus’s to carry. Sighs have become a part of speech for Marcus, exasperated as he is by his partner Willie’s problems. What begins as profane pity curdles into pissed-off homicidal intent. The director’s cut omits Marcus’s lighthearted mayhem but makes him palpably meaner. Before targeting Willie, Marcus drags one debilitated foe behind his van and drives over him—popping his skull like a pesky whitehead—to the sounds of a Shostakovich waltz.

Warwick Davis as Lubdan the Leprechaun, the “Leprechaun” series (1993-2003)

Lubdan is the only scoundrel on this list who works alone, killing foolish, gold-stealing humans with vivacious glee and villainous rhymes. In outrageous sequels, he emerges from a man’s penis or smokes up with Ice-T. His reign of terror begins more modestly, as he feels up Jennifer Aniston and slices up some North Dakota locals. Davis is the only reason this ridiculous idea sustained six films. (A WWE Films reboot featuring wrestler Hornswoggle arrives this summer.) With his feral scamper, mottled practical makeup and a Bon Scott-like cackle, Davis whips a maliciously entertaining 180 from being George Lucas’s go-to dwarf.