Showing posts with label Marlon Brando. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Marlon Brando. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 07, 2018

An American in Paris



Bernardo Bertolucci's "Last Tango in Paris," a French–Italian movie that premiered across the United States on this day in 1973, caused quite a stir — such a stir that Premiere Magazine included it in its "100 Movies That Shook the World" list.

It received an X rating, which has come to be associated with pornography but was initially given to legitimate feature films (1969's "Midnight Cowboy," for example) that had content deemed too extreme for children. That applied not only to sexual content but to violent content as well.

Film critic Roger Ebert gushed about "Last Tango in Paris" after its New York premiere in late 1972: It was "one of the great emotional experiences of our time," he wrote. "It's a movie that exists so resolutely on the level of emotion, indeed, that possibly only Marlon Brando, of all living actors, could have played its lead. Who else can act so brutally and imply such vulnerability and need?"

And need, Ebert wrote, was what the movie was really about. It had some explicit nudity and not–quite–as–explicit sex, which got all the headlines — and that was used as the promotional hook to lure audiences to theaters — but I think Ebert was on to something when he said the movie was about need.

"There is a lot of sex in this film," Ebert wrote, "more, probably, than in any other legitimate feature film ever made — but the sex isn't the point, it's only the medium of exchange."

Brando's character, a middle–aged American widower living in Paris, certainly had needs. And Ebert was right about his vulnerability. When the movie began, Brando's wife was already dead, a suicide victim, so the viewers never saw anything of the marriage other than what was said about it on the screen, and the reason for the suicide was never revealed so the viewers never really knew why she did it. Still there were some ominous clues scattered about the story.

That isn't the best way to judge a marriage, obviously, but the union clearly left a lot to be desired — and the vulnerability of Brando's character had deep roots in that. That was clear when Brando ranted while standing at his wife's coffin at her wake.

Brando's character had been abused, and it had been a lifelong story of abuse. It started with his alcoholic parents, and it continued from there into a marriage that was abusive, if not physically then certainly emotionally.

The role had its flaws, but I thought the character suffered from arrested development from his youth that carried into his adult years. That was why Ebert observed that Brando's character was "a man whose whole existence has been reduced to a cry for help — and who has been so damaged by life that he can only express that cry in acts of crude sexuality."

The nudity and the sexuality amounted to no more than stage props for the story. "Last Tango in Paris" wasn't about those things.

Well, let me amend that.

It was about sex in the sense that some people use sex as a haven and a weapon, not as an expression of love for another person, and the lovers in "Last Tango in Paris" were like that.

The relationship between Brando and a young French woman (Maria Schneider), though, was mostly physical. At Brando's character's insistence, they knew nothing of each other, not even each other's names. But that didn't mean they didn't use sex as a haven and a weapon as well, even as a physical release — but never as an expression of genuine affection.

I have heard people call it Brando's greatest performance, and I have my issues with that. It was a nuanced performance, I will concede that, but I am far more likely to align myself with Ebert, who wrote that he didn't know if it was Brando's greatest performance, but the movie "certainly contains his most emotionally overwhelming scene" — his rant next to his wife's coffin. Ebert wrote that Brando delivered "one of the most moving speeches of love I can imagine."

In that scene, Ebert wrote, Brando "makes it absolutely clear why he is the best film actor of all time. He may be a bore, he may be a creep, he may act childish about the Academy Awards — but there is no one else who could have played that scene flat–out, no holds barred, the way he did, and make it work triumphantly."

Brando was rewarded with an Oscar nomination for Best Actor (which he lost to Jack Lemmon). Bertolucci was nominated for Best Director (and lost to George Roy Hill).

Schneider, who later said she felt raped by the experience, received no Oscar consideration.

Tuesday, November 03, 2015

The Godfather Meets West Side Story



"The companionship of a doll is a pleasant thing even for a period of time running into months. But for a close relationship that can last us through all the years of our life, no doll can take the place of aces back to back."

Sky Masterson (Marlon Brando)

"Guys and Dolls," which made its movie debut on this day in 1955, began its existence as a successful Broadway play in 1950.

It was so successful, in fact, that it was assumed that the movie would do just as well — and so commentary on the movie project before it began centered not on whether it would do well but on who would be chosen to star in it. Frank Sinatra wanted the starring role of Sky Masterson, but it went to Marlon Brando, the hottest male star in Hollywood at the time. It was the second time that Brando had been given a lead role that Sinatra wanted.

The first time had been "On the Waterfront" the year before. Sinatra wasn't Brando's co–star in that one, though. He was Brando's co–star in "Guys and Dolls."

Brando's role was of a rakish sort of character, noncommittal, new girl every night type. He was challenged to seduce (remember, that word is being used in the context of 1950s movies) the most prim and proper individual in the movie (Jean Simmons), a straight–and–narrow member of an anti–gambling group modeled after the Salvation Army.

Well, seduce really isn't the right word. It fits the image of the guys in the movie — most of whom were involved in shady activities of some type — but their relationships were pretty tame. Brando was actually challenged to take Simmons to dinner in Cuba, not to bed.

Sinatra's character, on the other hand, seemed to have a different kind of issue with commitment. He had committed to a 14–year engagement with a girl who wanted to stop being a fiancee and start being a spouse (Vivian Blaine).

That, in essence, was the plot of "Guys and Dolls" — a mid–20th century tale that comes across as terribly lame by 21st–century standards — and it probably goes a long way toward explaining my general dislike for movie musicals.

I don't hate movie musicals. There are even some that I really like — and I have written about many of them on this blog — but "Guys and Dolls" really failed to hold my interest.

And I have tried to watch it several times. I always manage to watch it all the way through, but I never feel as if I have invested much in the experience — except for my time, which is valuable enough.

The American Film Institute clearly disagrees with me. AFI didn't put "Guys and Dolls" on its list of the top 100 movies of all time — but it did rank it #23 among the movie musicals.

I guess I perceived it as being kind of preachy. To win the challenge, Brando had to pretend to be a gambler who wanted to change his ways. Simmons was suspicious. Brando was dressed well. He had obviously prospered. "It's just so unusual for a successful sinner to be unhappy about sin," she said.


I've always kind of regarded it as "The Godfather" meets "West Side Story."

OK, perhaps that is oversimplifying things. But it sums it up pretty well for me.

"Guys and Dolls" was nominated for four Oscars and lost them all — for Best Musical Score (lost to "Oklahoma!"); for Best Color Art Direction (lost to "Picnic"); for Best Color Cinematography (lost to "To Catch a Thief"), and for Best Color Costume Design (lost to "Love Is a Many–Splendored Thing").

Monday, July 28, 2014

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."

Tuesday, November 05, 2013

Vivien Leigh's 100th Birthday



Anyone who has ever seen Vivien Leigh in a movie — and that must mean just about everyone — would agree.

She was stunningly beautiful.

And, to these Southern ears, she sounded legitimately Southern in "Gone With the Wind" and "A Streetcar Named Desire," but, in fact, she was the daughter of an English military officer stationed in India at the time of her birth.

Leigh was born 100 years ago today, and she looked upon her beauty as more of a curse than a blessing. She felt it kept her from being taken seriously.

That may have been true with some filmmakers, but the American Film Institute certainly takes her seriously. AFI rated her 16th on its list of the 25 greatest actresses of all time.

And the Academy Awards took her seriously. She was named Best Actress twice — for her performances in "Gone With the Wind" and "A Streetcar Named Desire."

Of all the movies she made, those are almost certainly the two for which she is most remembered.

My guess is that was the kind of attention she craved — recognition for her ability to act, not for her beautiful features. She was a lot like Elizabeth Taylor, I guess. Taylor gained weight and did everything she could think of to make her portrayal of Martha in "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" as realistic as possible — and was rewarded with an Oscar.

Leigh, who was nearly 20 years older than Taylor, didn't go to such physical extremes, but, as I say, it was her acting ability that she wanted people to remember.

(Taylor, in fact, was an admirer of Leigh's. I have heard that Taylor, who regarded Leigh as a "tragic heroine," saw her role in "Virginia Woolf" as an opportunity "to really act.")

Largely known for her stage roles before being cast as Scarlett O'Hara, Leigh gained virtually instant fame when she emerged from a well–publicized quest that included many better–known performers. But she insisted that she was an actress, not a film star.

"I'm not a film star — I'm an actress. Being a film star — just a film star — is such a false life, lived for fake values and for publicity. Actresses go on for a long time, and there are always marvelous parts to play."

Even if you don't consider the two roles for which she was rewarded with Oscars, it would be hard to dismiss Leigh as merely a "film star."

Sure, she was beautiful, and that is about the only requirement these days for a woman to be a movie star, but Leigh had talent that she brought to every project, be it on stage or the big screen.

I suppose you can't separate Leigh's career from that of her second husband, Laurence Olivier. They often worked together during their 20–year marriage.

Leigh and Olivier met before Leigh was cast in "Gone With the Wind." They were co–stars in "Fire Over England," young lovers on screen — and off, as it turned out. Both were married to other people, but they would be married to each other three years later.

And Leigh's relationship with Olivier played its own role in the two most noteworthy parts she ever had.

It was during their affair that Leigh read "Gone With the Wind" and decided she would play Scarlett.

And it was during their marriage that Leigh played the role of Blanche DuBois, first in a London stage production of "A Streetcar Named Desire" in 1949, then as Marlon Brando's co–star in the big–screen version two years later.

"Streetcar" director Elia Kazan was unimpressed with Leigh initially, but she proved her "determination to excel" to him during the production of the film.

"She'd have crawled over broken glass if she thought it would help her performance," he said.

Following her marriage to Olivier, Leigh had a tendency to drop out of public sight for months, even years, and the stage was always her preference to the silver screen. What fans saw in public was a woman who seemed to be in control of herself and her career, but privately, Leigh battled emotional and health issues that eventually took their toll on both her marriage and her career.

She died in July 1967 of the tuberculosis with which she had struggled for years.

(By the way, Turner Classic Movies will be showing 11 of Leigh's movies today, including the two for which she won Oscars.)