Showing posts with label Eva Marie Saint. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Eva Marie Saint. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 20, 2017

If You're Craving 'Gone With the Wind,' Watch the Real Thing



"Greatness? Ha! If that great philosopher, Socrates, were living today, he'd be reduced to sitting on a cracker barrel, chewing tobacco. That's what America does for greatness."

Professor Stiles (Nigel Patrick)

When I first saw "Raintree County," which premiered on this day in 1957, my first reaction was that it must have been intended as a Northern version of "Gone With the Wind."

I had read nothing about the movie before I saw it, but after I did I read comments from film critics that showed I wasn't the only one who perceived it that way. I have no doubt that MGM saw it that way, too. But that isn't how things worked out.

It wasn't the award–winning blockbuster that had been envisioned. In fact the movie was a failure at the box office, and it was widely panned by critics. Elizabeth Taylor was nominated for Best Actress, and the movie was nominated for Best Art Direction, Best Costume Design and Best Original Score, but all those awards went to other nominees.

The funny thing is that I know some people who really like "Raintree County." I guess it is true what they say. There really is no accounting for taste (or the lack thereof).

People often forget that film critics merely express their opinions — and opinions are not statements of fact.

In this case, though, I tend to agree with most in their negative assessments.

I suppose if you were going to select a couple, you couldn't pick an odder one than Montgomery Clift and Taylor (who were actually pretty good friends in real life). Clift's character, a Yankee abolitionist, and Taylor's character, a self–absorbed Southerner, met before the Civil War broke out.

In its best opposites–attract mode, the story showed how Clift and Taylor were drawn together. Eva Marie Saint, who played a girl–next–door type, probably should have been Clift's bride — but that would be in an ideal world. And the pre–Civil War world they occupied was far from ideal.

The coupling was far from ideal as well. A friend of mine once observed, "Montgomery Clift went to bed with Scarlett O'Hara and woke up with Blanche DuBois." That should tell you everything you need to know about the volatile nature of the relationship.

The lead characters were really the only ones that were given any kind of in–depth examination. The supporting talents were mishandled. Lee Marvin wasn't suited for the kind of comedic role in which he was cast, and Agnes Moorehead was given very little with which to work. Rod Taylor was reasonably convincing albeit in a small part.

The odd thing about "Raintree County" was that, while it was set against the backdrop of the Civil War, more attention was given to Clift's character and his quest to find the meaning of life than to the far more significant events that were unfolding around him.

Clift, by the way, was nearly killed when he fell asleep at the wheel and crashed his car into a telephone pole after leaving a dinner party at Elizabeth Taylor's home. Summoned from the party Taylor rushed to Clift's side and removed a tooth that was lodged in his tongue. If Taylor had not done that, Clift might have choked to death.

As it was, Clift suffered several injuries, including a broken jaw and nose, that required reconstructive surgery. His matinee idol looks were never the same again. In fact, they weren't even the same from scene to scene. If you watch closely, you can see differences in his profile — and, in closer shots, his nose and chin.

The cinematographer tried to work around it and did a generally good job. But the damage was too extensive to cover completely.

Monday, July 28, 2014

Mistaken Identity Can Be Hazardous to Your Health



"In the world of advertising, there's no such thing as a lie. There's only the expedient exaggeration."

Roger Thornhill (Cary Grant)

"Everyone wants to be Cary Grant," Cary Grant once told an interviewer. "Even I want to be Cary Grant."

It always seemed to me that that was especially true of Cary Grant in "North by Northwest." Oh, I know, he had some run–ins with some not–so–nice folks who tried to kill him, but no one was as suave as Cary Grant, even when someone was trying to kill him.

I guess his identity was quite a dilemma for him, on screen or off. Like most of the folks in Hollywood, his screen persona (and name) differed from real life. He was born Archie Leach in England and came to the United States in his teens. He legally changed his name to Cary Grant when he became a naturalized citizen.

(The Cary part came from a character he once portrayed in a play. He chose the surname Grant from a list of options the studio gave him — because the CG combination had already proven successful for stars like Clark Gable and Gary Cooper.)

I suppose he always felt torn between his roots and his professional persona.

Combine Grant with Alfred Hitchcock in a movie about mistaken identity.

Hitchcock is one of my favorite directors, and I have seen most, if not all, of his movies. He is remembered as a master of suspense, and that was certainly an element of his style — he said he preferred suspense to surprise — but there were certain themes he explored more often than others. I suppose one of the most prominent was the one of mistaken identity. Offhand, I can think of at least half a dozen movies Hitchcock made that dealt with mistaken identity.

I'm inclined to think that the one that premiered 55 years ago today, "North by Northwest," was his best.

A pretty good case could be made for "Vertigo," I suppose. The same could be said for "Shadow of a Doubt" and "The Wrong Man."

The case is weaker for some of Hitchcock's other mistaken identity motif efforts of which I am aware.

But stacked up against "North by Northwest," everything else comes up short — in my opinion, anyway.

I have mentioned Hitchcock's famous cameo appearances on this blog before. At first they came well into his movies, but, as audiences became increasingly aware of them, there was a tendency for viewers to focus too much on spotting Hitchcock before they gave their full attention to the plot.

Consequently, Hitchcock began having his cameo appearances earlier and earlier. Late in his career, it was a sign of just how much he wanted his audiences to follow the story; if he was eager for viewers to concentrate on the story — and he usually was — he got his cameo out of the way very early.

Only three of his movies had quicker cameos than "North by Northwest." In fact, the cameo came while the opening credits were still rolling. Hitch didn't want the viewers to miss a thing.

Come to think of it, rolling is probably a pretty good word for "North by Northwest" because it hit the ground running and kept charging along until the end.

I guess that is why Hitch was in a hurry to get down to business. He must have felt he had no time to waste.

As much as I like "North by Northwest," though, I will readily admit that it isn't perfect.

Probably the most famous image from "North by Northwest" was of Grant running from the crop–dusting plane that was intent on killing him.

Frankly, I didn't think that was too sharp of ol' Cary. I mean, the plane was dusting crops where there were no crops. I never did find out exactly what his character was thinking.

After all, enough strange things had already happened. If I found myself standing out in the middle of freakin' nowhere and I saw a crop–dusting plane dusting crops where there were no crops — and I knew that some bad people had been trying to kill me — I do believe I wouldn't keep standing there.

But that's just me. Hitchcock's movies sometimes had a logic all their own.

And then, of course, there was that iconic chase across Mount Rushmore. It was great, nothing else like it on film, but I had to admit that the ending was rather ambiguous.

I mean, just how did Cary Grant and Eva Marie Saint manage to get off whichever president's face that was?

I know that movies, both then and now, often require the audience to believe whatever it sees on the screen — but that really was asking a lot of the viewers. They really deserved to know more than Saint was in a perilous predicament and managed to get out of it — somehow.

Isn't that asking a bit much?

Well, I guess you can get away with it if you're Alfred Hitchcock.

Oh, and Grant and Saint must have gotten married in the interim.

This was 1959, after all. Ike was still president. Married couples couldn't even be seen in the same bed together on TV for another decade or so, and here were Grant and Saint about to get it on just as their train went into a tunnel.

You didn't have to be Fellini to figure that one out.

But perhaps I am being too picky.

"North by Northwest" was only nominated for three Oscars in the year of "Ben–Hur" — and lost all three.

The Conscience of the Docks



"I coulda had class. I coulda been a contender. I coulda been somebody, instead of a bum, which is what I am, let's face it."

Terry (Marlon Brando)
American Film Institute's third–greatest movie quote

"On the Waterfront," which premiered 60 years ago today, was a classic story about mob informers set on the waterfront of the Northeast. If it had the ring of truth to it, it is because the tale was loosely based on some Pulitzer Prize–winning true stories that were originally published in the New York Sun.

The American Film Institute ranked "On the Waterfront" #19 in its list of the Top 100 movies of all time. Marlon Brando's Terry Malloy, the never–was professional boxer, was rated the #23 hero of all time.

Lee J. Cobb played a union boss with mob ties who ruled the docks with an iron fist. Local law enforcement knew he was behind some murders, but no one on the waterfront was willing to inform on him, preferring to remain alive and working.

Rod Steiger played Cobb's right–hand man; Brando was his brother. Apparently, Brando was once a boxer with a lot of promise, but his brother (on instructions from Cobb) told him to lose a fight intentionally. Cobb had placed a bet on Brando's opponent.

The memory of that gnawed at Brando, who went on to work on the docks instead of contending for a boxing championship.

Brando's character was smitten with Eva Marie Saint, who played the sister of another dockworker. Brando was used as bait to lure her brother, who was about to testify against Cobb, into an ambush, in which he was killed. Brando thought they were only going to "lean" on him and resented playing any kind of role, albeit unknowingly, in the other man's death.

Saint and a priest (played by Karl Malden) persuaded Brando to testify against the union boss. His decision cost his brother his life, and it nearly cost him his own when Cobb's henchmen beat him up.

"Conscience," Brando's character said. "That stuff can drive you nuts."

Indeed it can.

"On the Waterfront" was nominated for 12 Oscars and won eight, including Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor and Best Supporting Actress.

Incidentally, you can see "On the Waterfront" in a couple of weeks on Turner Classic Movies' Aug. 11 salute to Marlon Brando during TCM's annual "Summer Under the Stars."