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Showing posts with label Elia Kazan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Elia Kazan. Show all posts
Monday, 23 May 2011
It's all about Cukor today in another string of random vignettes of movie memories coming from yours truly as I count down the days to my birthday.
The placement is all random, really, but I can’t have a movie blogging marathon without paying some sort of tribute to the brilliance that is George Cukor. I happened to re-watch The Philadelphia Story this past weekend. Truth be told, I’ve probably rewatched that one more times than I needed to – it’s a great option for relieving stress and it’s that same lightness in tone which George Cukor is usually remembered for. That’s a disservice to Cukor right there, though, by fêting this lone title of his eschewing all the other great work that he’s done.
I am vicariously offended, on his Cukor’s behalf, because he does not have as estimable a reputation as most of his peers. I’ll admit that in terms of being prolific William Wyler is probably at the zenith of pre-60 directors but when it comes to actually quality I’m firmly in the camp of Cukor and Kazan. Kazan gets shafted because of that “naming of names” scandal and Cukor gets shafted because he’s a woman’s director. The thing is, I’m still not sure what precisely comprises a woman’s director. I immediately recall that revelatory post Jose did after the Academy awards’ where he pointed out one of Oscar’s more disturbing trends and I suppose a “woman’s” director is one who focuses on women’s issues. If that’s what constitutes the term, there’s no shame in such a director but it seems silly to relegate Cukor’s work to just that, still. I’d be more inclined to call him a director who focuses on societal issues, not women specifically.
In terms of superficial longevity most probably remember Cukor for My Fair Lady. Incidentally, as big a fan of Cukor as I am I’m not especially fond of My Fair Lady (admittedly, I’m biased against Rex Harrison as it is). Even if I didn’t have that bias, I’m sure I’d be hard-pressed to find anyone who’d call it Cukor’s apex. Of course, that’s just the typical Oscar fashion where the best and the rewarded are not always immediately reconcilable.
My first immediate interest in Cukor was, of course, instigated by Katharine Hepburn. She devotes a number of pages to him in her biography and together they’ve done some brilliant pieces. For me the trio of The Philadelphia Story, Adam's Rub and Little Women is most prominent. It took me some time to warm up to Holiday (I’m not a fan of Barrie’s play) but those three are the height of that comedic cadence he does so well, which is buoyed by an interest in more serious issues. Still, Cukor’s talent isn’t even consigned that trinity. Just watch how he moves from breakneck pace hilarity with Tracy Lords and C. K. Dexter Haven to claustrophobic tension with Gregory Anton and Paula Alquist. There are some scenes in Gaslight that might even recall some of Hitchcock’s work. It’s an obtrusively far cry from the lighter fare that immediately comes to mind when his name is mentioned. Then, measure that against the poignant melodrama of A Star is Born or the tenacity (occasionally mired by confusion in Wild is the Wind). The man is diverse.And yet, so many have supreme tunnel vision when it comes to him. If there’s any one thing which Cukor maintains as he switches from genre to genre it’s that delightful bit of irreverence with which he marks his films. That’s probably the reason why Sylvia Scarlett seems so bathetic. It’s arbitrarily rewarding, but its strangeness is probably a bit too garish for the fainthearted. Still, I love Cukor – on his good days and his bad days, he always has something to say.
What I’ve Seen of Him
Adam's Rib A/A-
A Bill of Divorcement B
Born Yesterday B+
Holiday B+
Gaslight A-
Pat & Mike B/B+
The Philadelphia Story A
A Star is Born A-
Sylvia Scarlett B
My Fair Lady B/B+
What Price Hollywood? B
Wild is the Wind B
The Women B+
Is there any love lost between you and Cukor?
Wednesday, 23 March 2011
The fact that I’ve never contributed to Nathaniel’s Hit Me With Your Best Shot series is not indicative of my lack of interest in the films he’s covered thus far, but evidence of my natural indecisiveness. The idea of choosing a single shot to represent my love for a film is so difficult – and even A Streetcar Named Desire which I love for the writing and acting (at least, ostensibly) ends up confusing me. One of the great things about actually having Tennessee adapt his own play was that A Streetcar Named Desire didn’t undergo superfluous “opening up”. It’s a play about trapped people, so it makes sense that even in its cinematic version the action occurs mostly in that apartment at Elysian Fields. But, I do love that the film opens not with Blanche on the sidewalk approaching Stella’s home (like in the play) but now preparing to board that fateful Streetcar named Desire. Maybe it’s because I’m reading Great Expectations which is all about secrets shrouded by mist, but I love that the very first image of Blanche occurs through mist. For, Blanche is like the mist, no? Beautiful, mysterious – and most importantly so fragile and easily dissipated.
But, you see, I’m already in a quandary of sorts because as much as I love Blanche’s entrance it would hardly suffice as my favourite shot. The film, like all works emanating from Tennessee, is so rich that I’m always undecided as to which theme to hang my hat upon. Case in point: Stella Kowalski/Kim Hunter. I’m inclined, too often, to think of A Streetcar Named Desire in accordance with another foursome (Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?. Right now, I’d give more credit to the latter and whereas as with Nichols’ piece I’m indecisive about who’s best in show Hunter is easily my least favourite of the foursome in Streetcar. I like her more this time around, though…
One of the enduring themes of the play/film is Blanche’s more overt disillusionment against the practicality of Stella (who it turns out, isn’t all that practical). I have a soft spot for cinematic sisters, even if they’re as odd as this pair. It’s not a superfluous shot, there’s something important to be gleaned just from their expressions. Doesn’t Stanley’s Stella seem almost overexcited with desirous pride watching her man there? And poor Blanche is looking at her wondering, “Can this be Stella DuBois?” Well, she better believe it. One thing you have to appreciate about the narrative is its fluidity, and that first look that we Stella giving him there is leading up that moment when they have their tussle on Poker Night. Blanche, Stella and Eunice are all upstairs; naturally, though, Stella can't stand to me apart from her man and she comes down the stairs with that look on her face to the right.
Blanche is the Dubois sister credited with denying reality, but in the same way that Blanche is disillusioned Stella, too, ignores the danger that comes with Stanley deciding instead to grasp at his visceral sexuality. Like the next morning when Blanche comes in, she's not the image of an abused woman - this is how the Kowalskis get off - disillusionment, indeed. Stella talks about how he went about “smashing” things on their wedding night., and you only have to imagine. Smashing things? Yeah, sure he did…It’s why the subsequent conversation with the two sisters is so important.
Blanche: “What you are talking about is desire – just brutal Desire. The name of that rattle-trap streetcar that bangs through the Quarter, up one narrow street and down another”
Stella: “Haven’t you ever ridden on that streetcar?”
That’s about all you need to glean the most important bits of A Streetcar Named Desire. It’s such a precise moment, without being a bit on the nose. Blanche and Stella both have that innate thirst for desire, the only difference is that Stella’s lucky enough (well, depending on how you look at it) to have found it with one man. Leigh gets blamed for theatrical, but she's much more organic an actor than people give her credit for. This makes her such a perfect figure to encapsulate the subtlety that becomes Blanche, pitting her against the literal nature of Hunter's performance. It's moments like these that make it possible for us to peruse the sisters (and the actors) opposite each other. Blanche may be the one hopping on and off board onto that brutal streetcar, but they're all riding it…
(I'm proud of myself, an entire post on A Streetcar Named Desire and I don't bring up Marlon Brando.)
What do you think about the juxtaposition of the two sisters in A Streetcar Named Desire? Which is more disillusioned?
(I'm proud of myself, an entire post on A Streetcar Named Desire and I don't bring up Marlon Brando.)
What do you think about the juxtaposition of the two sisters in A Streetcar Named Desire? Which is more disillusioned?
Tuesday, 1 March 2011
March the 8th marks International Women’s Day and most of you US citizens probably know of the month as Women’s History Month. I’m not American, but I still like the idea of March being the month of the woman, moreover when I think that its birthstones are aquamarine and bloodstones – gems signifying courage, and March was named after Mars – the god of War. It’s an interesting task, trying to discern courageous women in cinema – regardless of how many claim that there’s a dearth of female roles available, there’s a gamut of courageous women you could think of.
As I said, courage is a strange thing and you don’t immediately identify Natalie Wood’s brilliant Deanie with the typical encapsulations of female “hear-me-roar” courage on screen, she’s hardly combative. In fact, if you glance at the plot – a girl seemingly runs crazy after having sex – it sounds decidedly misogynistic and uncourageous. I like to think of Splendor in the Grass in the same way that I’d think of a William Blake poem – ostensibly supporting what seems like so messed up morals, while all the while actually subverting. The attitudes of women are an important part of William Inge’s screenplay. There’s that scene I love where Deanie and her mother are talking about sex and she says,“Your father never laid a hand on me until we were married. Then I... I just gave in because a wife has to. A woman doesn't enjoy those things the way a man does. She just lets her husband come near her in order to have children. ”.It’s an unintentionally hilarious (but conversely, terribly disturbing line) and it makes the morals on which Splendor in the Grass is built seem sort of dated. But, for all its datedness the way that Inge and Kazan examine the age old theme of gender relations is quite interesting.
Natalie Wood has an inherent “superior” nature to her, that’s not quite condescending but still a little lofty (perfect example: the entire last half hour of Love with the Proper Stranger). And the look on her face as Deanie meets Bud for the last time is striking on so many levels. Not only because Bud looks like the guy who killed the goose that laid the golden egg, but that easily discernable look on Deanie’s face as she things that she could have had this life with him, then accepting that she doesn’t and then a sort of elation (in Natalie’s own subtle way) that she doesn’t. One isn’t naturally inclined to identify surviving with being courageous, but I like to think of Deanie as more than just a little courageous. And how can you not love Natalie in her greatest performance?
Is Deanie an appropriate start to courageous cinematic women?
Sunday, 20 February 2011
When one remembers On the Waterfront, in relation to “great” scenes, we’re immediate moved to reminisce on that backseat conversation between Brando and Steiger which is excellent. But, I always feel badly that the male ensemble always seems to render Eva Marie Saint’s Edie forgettable. The supporting actress category is no stranger to debut, and even though Eva Marie Saint’s inexperience is palpable at times I love her performance here – this scene (well, it’s sort of a two-in-one) is a fine example.
Terry (OS): “Edie! Edie!”
Edie: “Stay away from me!”
Terry (OS): “Edie!”
Isn’t it nice that directors actually made use of wide shots back in the day? It seems like almost every scene nowadays – confrontational or otherwise, is done using close-ups.
Terry (OS): “Come on, Edie! Open the door!”
Edie: “Stop it!”
And, he barges in...
Edie: “I want you to stay away from me.”Maybe it’s that line, but I always think of this part of the scene in conjunction with that other movie with a similar lover’s quarrel then reunion (this time Natalie Wood and Richard Beymer).
Terry: “I know what you want me to do, but I ain’t gonna do it, so forget it!”Brando covers a lot of ground in this movie, and it’s my performance of his – but gun to my head, I’d probably choose this scene as an encapsulation of why like him here.
Edie: “I don’t want you to do anything.”
And, you wouldn’t think it’d be a fair argument – but Eva is so fearless even in her delicateness...
Edie: “You let your conscience tell you what to do!”
Don’t you just love how that significant line is juxtaposed with the image of the cross which seems to sort of pop out from nowhere? Not overt, but still striking.
Terry: “Shut up about that conscience! That’s all I been hearing!”
(Doesn’t he look the slightest bit like a young Justin Chambers there?)
Edie: “I never mentioned the word before. You stay away from me!”
Terry: “Edie, you love me! I want you-”
I just love how this scene is shot, though; I’m a big Kazan fan so that’s not surprise.
Edie: “I didn’t say I didn’t love you, I said stay away from me!”
Terry: “I want you to say it!”
Edie: “Stay away from me!”
Edie: “Terry...”
Voice (OS): “Hey, Terry!”
Love that expression on her face, above.
Voice (OS): “Hey, Terry! Your brother’s down here and he wants to see ya.”
Terry: “Charley...?”
Voice (OS): “Hey, Terry! Your brother’s down here!”
And, another great shot above. I love that you can only barely make out Terry’s silhouette, and Edie’s stance there is so telling.
Voice (OS): “Come on down, he wants to see ya.”
So much subtleties there, Terry seems like he’s locked in a jail, and clothes on a line have never seemed so foreboding.
Voice(OS): “Come on down.”
Edie: “What is it?”
Terry: “Charley. I think he’s in trouble.”
Edie: “Be careful!”
The use of the wide-shot is almost foreshadowing in its use, and Kazan is always so smart about these things. This entire scene is marked by the tension, and it’s as if even when they’re alone Edie and Terry are still in danger – as if someone’s watching.
Terry: “Charley.”
Edie: “Terry?”
Voice (OS): “Your brother’s down here!”
Woman: “You hear what I hear?”(I always wonder how much this woman was paid, I think it's Anne Hegeira. My mind always goes to the weirdest things.
Edie: “Terry!”And, down Edie comes...
Edie: “Terry!”
Woman: “That’s the same way they called Andy the night I lost him.”(Talk about unnecessary warnings, eh?)
Woman (OS): “Edie, be careful!”
In another situation that light on Edie would be almost heavenly.
Well, of course you can’t actually hear it – but that’s the sound of a vehicle that makes Terry turn around which segues into Edie...
Edie: “Terry!”
Terry: “Edie, watch out for that truck!”
My favourite shot of the scene above: FYI.
The absence of dialogue as Terry looks out only makes the impending discovery more striking.
As the vehicle moves we see...
...a figure hanging on the wall...
And, now Brando looks like Beatty with that expression on his face.
Now, that’s a good use of close-up – unsettling, there’s something insulting about hanging a corpse like that.
I’m so impressed with Eva here because it’s easy for her presence to seem superfluous, but Kazan isn’t interested in focusing on Terry. She’s there for a reason, and Saint has the difficult task of showing emotion to the death of a man she knows little of. She doesn’t mitigate her fear, her confusion or even the numbness – she’s been through this before.
It’s an emotional scene, but Kazan never exploits it
That expression there is just perfect in its nakedness. One can only imagine what’s running through Edie’s head.
Edie: “Terry...”
Terry: “They got Charley.”
Edie: “Terry, I’m frightened. Let’s get out of here, please.”
Terry: “First Joey, and then Duggan and now Charley and then...Come on, who’s not flashing to “Somewhere” at that line?
Edie: Please Terry, someplace where we can live in peace.”
Terry: “I’m gonna take it out on their skulls.”
Terry: “Charley...”
Terry: “I’m gonna take it out on their skulls!”
Edie: “Please, Terry. They’ll kill you too!”
Terry: “Go, get the father. Tell him to take care of Charley...”
Terry: “...then come on back here and stay with him till he gets here.”
Edie: “Terry, please don’t do anything. Please!”
Terry: “For God’s sake! Don’t leave him alone here long”This is such a profound line. I don’t know what it is about Brando, he’s so deliberate but I never find him overly precise like other actors he’s often compared to (like DeNiro, for example).
Edie: “Please, Terry.”
Terry: “Do what I tell you.”
Edie: “Terry.”
There’s that light again, and it feels obtrusive somewhat. You’d expect light to be welcome at a time like this, but here it just feels garish.
God, I love Kazan (and Brando and On the Waterfront and Eva Marie Saint too). Sigh.
Too much priaisng of the wideshotS? This isn’t exactly the optimum scene for a Sunday rest, but what do you think of it (or Eva or Brando or On the Waterfront)?
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