Ten for Tennessee

I love Tennessee Williams. It’s so strange, because he encapsulates most of the things I find exasperating in contemporary playwrights – hysterical characters, overwrought scenes, a consistency in themes from decade to decade bordering on monotony – but I do love him. Aside from Shakespeare, he’s my favourite playwright. What I find odder, though, is that despite an ostensible theatricality to Williams’ his plays make for such brilliant films, moreover – brilliant performances, so I'm celebrating his birthday by celebrating the performances he gave us.

    

I’ve seen seven film adaptations of Tennessee’s work *Cat On A Hot Tin Roof (1958), Night of the Iguana(1964), The Rose Tattoo (1955), A Streetcar Named Desire (1951), Suddenly, Last Summer (1959), Sweet Bird of Youth (1962), This Property Is Condemned (1966) (Baby Doll doesn't count - it's an original screenplay of his.)

                  

Six of these appear on the list below as I make a special top ten, featuring eight actors who owe thanks to Tennessee for eliciting some of their greatest performances: 3 of them leading to Oscars, 6 leading to nominations and one ridiculously snubbed, but still brilliant.

#10 Elizabeth Taylor in Suddenly, Last Summer

I often used to wonder why Elizabeth seemed so “flittery”, and I won’t deny I’m simultaneously awestruck and confused by what Mankiewicz does with the adaptation (more than the play, even). Katharine Hepburn noted in one of her biographies how professional Elizabeth was, and she really does emanate – sort of throwing herself into the role with an endearing way that seems (rightfully) out of place with all the ludicrousness in the plot.

#9 Karl Malden in A Streetcar Named Desire

I have a latent appreciation for Karl Malden, he’s – for the most part – a consistently good actor and it’s a shame that my two favourite performances of his often get thwarted in memory by their proximity to my two favourite Brando performances. In the wake of the hysteria happening in A Streetcar Named Desire the flash of gentility from [ ] is much appreciated. Malden already has that natural cadence that makes him perfect for the role, and he’s such a supporting actor. It’s easy to write him off, but it’s an Oscar well deserved.

#8 Elizabeth Taylor in Cat On A Hot Tin Roof

I often feel a little conflicted about Cat On A Hot Tin Roof, I love it for all its deviations and issues and Elizabeth is a significant part of that. From a literary perspective, I don’t see Maggie the Cat as iconic a character as most Tennessee lovers. Yet, Liz – more than the words on the page, I’d wager – turns it into that incessantly emotive, emotional, explicit and sensual woman that demands our attention.

#7 Richard Burton in Night of the Iguana

The casting of Richard Burton as the defrocked minister who may, or may not, be a drunkard is rich with irony. The performance is something brilliant. As fine as he is in Becket, the fact that Burton neither earned a win nor nomination for this fine performance is just one in a long line of Oscar injustices. Tonally, Night of the Iguana represents a departure from Tennessee at his most impetuous and Burton – who is so naturally conflicted, symbolises that latent unease perfectly. It’s, oddly, not as remembered as you’d think but that doesn’t mitigate its brilliance.

#6 Anna Magnani in The Rose Tattoo

I’ll admit, I’ve actively prayed for Pedro Almodóvar to make an adaptation of this with Penelope Cruz and Javier Bardem, but that isn’t any suggestion that Anna Magnani isn’t powerful. I’ve never seen Magnani in an all Spanish production (I heard she’s masterful in her own language), but if this is her giving an average performance I’m floored. The Rose Tattoo – for me, is Tennessee’s forgotten classic**, and it’s unfortunate that the boorish, mis-casted Reynolds presents a potential blight to Magnani. She doesn’t allow that, though, delivering with intensity – a performance so raw I can’t bear to grudge her for beating out the competition. Ferocious.

 

#5 Paul Newman in Sweet Bird of Youth

I contemplated the logistics of a Tennessee Williams’ top ten without Newman’s work in Cat On a Hot Tin Roof – but as interesting a performance as his Brick is, I’m much more enamoured with his Chance. Chance manages to come off as one of Williams’ brutes who's not really that brutish and it's because Sweet Bird of Youth is - at its heart - not about human nature at its most violent, but at its most romantic. Romanticism seems to emerge naturally, even in the sordidness of that hotel room and a lot of that has to do with how much Newman seems made for the role of Chance Wayne.

        

#4 Katharine Hepburn in Suddenly, Last Summer

Hepburn admitted to feeling the slightest discomfort at the macabre nature of character, and perhaps it’s this occasionally tentative characterisation of hers that makes me much more interested in Mrs. Venable on screen than I do on paper. Suddenly, Last Summer is such an odd film, I can only imagine how odd it must have seemed to the audience at the time. It’s should function as a trio of Monty/Elizabeth/Kate but it’s really Kate/Elizabeth...still, when Kate tackles those monologues – it’s just Kate (which is why I love the first half more than the second).

        

#3 Marlon Brando in A Streetcar Named Desire

I’m an unapologetic Brando fan – even if I’m not that vociferous about it and though he doesn’t top the list, he is my favourite male performance from Tennessee. Forgive, but I’ll never think of Tennessee in tandem with men – his most interesting male remains Tom Wingfield, and I’ve yet to see a cinematic version of The Glass Menagerie. A Streetcar Named Desire is a puzzling piece, not least because it could have so many interpretations – sometimes Brando plays Stanley less as the ogre that some care to see him as, and more as a man trying to tend to the worn illusions of his own family.

        

#2 Vivien Leigh in A Streetcar Named Desire

Someone once pointed out the irony of the very British Leigh representing two of the most iconic Southern-Belles, but it’s all part of the brilliance of acting. More than any of the players in the film, I’d say she gets better and better with age – I do wonder what Tandy did with the role, but it’s difficult imagining anyone else here – Vivien is so perfect. Yes, there's a slight inch preventing me from loving the performance uninhibitedly, but love/like it's a tour-de-force performance. Blanche may not have a strong grip on reality, but Vivien has a strong grip on Blanche and from her most lucid moments to her most heady Vivien delivers beautifully.

       

#1 Geraldine Page in Sweet Bird of Youth

I’d like to think my citation of this performance here as an apology for so often forgetting Page’s work here. I so often forget about the film, actually, even if I consider it to be severely underrated (the film and the play). With her own set of neuroses, the Princess often gets forgotten when considered against the likes of Blanche, Amanda or Mrs. Venable but Page – so beautiful here – is just captivating. I hate she didn't win, but not as much as I’d like to (that 1962 line-up was pure brilliance). Most notably, though, Page avoids the most theatrical pitfalls that could occur in putting the Princess to screen. She’s just captivating to watch.

                          

It takes more than a great role on paper to make a great performance, but there’s no doubt that each of these performances manages to be so brilliant because of their source material. Tennessee may not have written the screenplay for each film but the connection to his original plays is irrevocable. I like to think that his literature will always endure, I’m a literature student after all – and they’re all classics. I’d like to think that these ten performances will (continue to) endure, too. They’re classics as well.

     

* I’ve also seen two TV adaptations, the Jessica Lange version of A Streetcar Named Desire (an enchanting performance in its odd way) and the Arthur Kennedy version The Glass Menagerie. Unfortunately, I haven’t the version of the latter with our lady Kate the Great.

       

** When it comes to readability, I’d pick up The Rose Tattoo or Sweet Bird of Youth first. The former is one of the oddballs in Tennessee’s portfolio, not the least bit Southern, but it’s so quick and rewarding. On the issue of best, I’d debate between A Streetcar Named Desire, The Glass Menagerie and Night of the Iguana, though Sweet Bird of Youth retains a sentimental hold on me, but I’m never certain if it’s brilliant or if I love it too much.

                

This post is quite a mouthful, but as I said – I love Tennessee. Which of these performances inspired his genius endures most for you? Which inclusions surprise you? Do any of his plays emerge as a favourite of yours?

Hit Me With Your Best Shot: A Streetcar Named Desire

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?

She doesn't look to pleased, but wish her a happy Birthday!

“Pour Me A Drink, Sugar”

Drunkards – we hate them in real life, but we love them on the screen. One of the many riddles that I cannot answer for you. It’s strange, whether the drunk is a bit of comedic relief, an affable protagonist or a dastardly villain it’s always nice seeing an actor ham it up for our entertainment on the big screen. Making this list was actually difficult, there were a number of notable drunks to sift through (I considered dividing it between males and females) – but in the end, I believe these five are the most notable.

        

#5 Johnny Cash (played by Joaquin Phoenix in Walk the Line)

This isn’t a biopic on overcoming drunkenness, but Joaquin does an excellent job of delving into that territory. I love that morning after where he and all the boys are drunk and Reese’s June turn up. He’s an incorrigible drunk, but he’s also an affable drunk – except when he’s fainting on stage and all. But, I suppose we must take the good with the bad.

     

#4 Blanche DuBois (played by Vivien Leigh in A Streetcar Named Desire)

If Blanche depended on the kindness of any stranger, his name was Jack Daniels. Like many drunks she often tried to hide it, but after her horrid birthday party all bets are off. It’s not so much funny as it is frighteningly unnerving.

      

#3 Terry Ann Wolfeyer…along with Denny (played by Joan Allen and Kevin Costner in The Upside of Anger)

Oh how I love Joan Allen, how I loathe Kevin Costner (but not here). Terry is an ultimate drunk, she drinks alone – which is a bit unnerving, until she gets Denny as a drinking buddy. But she can drink him under the table, anywhere. It could be at dinner, at her daughter’s graduation, just after her husband has “deserted” her – she’ll keep drinking with that same pensive look on her face. That’s what we call dedication.

    

#2 Jack Sparrow (played by Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl

Sometimes I forget he’s a drunk and just presume he’s crazy. Perhaps, it’s a bit of both. He’s exaggerated, he’s histrionic and he’s a lot of fun to watch. For shame, Disney, what kind of licentiousness are you promoting? I love it.

        

#1 George and Martha (played by Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf)

Who didn’t see this coming? It seems I may have to disqualify them; they’re topping too many lists (here, here). I can’t be the only one afraid to pick up a liquor glass after this watching these two having “fun and games”. Just look at the consequences of a nightcap. (Shudders)

  

Honourable Mention to Karen Walker, she’d suck the alcohol from a deodorant stick – if that’s not drunken dedication, I don’t know what is.

    

Which of these drunks would you be afraid to take on in a drinking match?

Gone With the Wind

There’s a joke, I’m not sure to whom it’s accredited, that says if Gone With the Wind was released today, it would be two films. The sheer length of Gone With the Wind is a bit daunting, and certainly today it’s not as revered as some of the films it triumphed over for the Oscar, but Gone With the Wind is still something special.

                        

It’s based on the novel of the same name which tells the story of Scarlet O’Hara a brash and sometimes reprehensible heroine who experiences a great deal during the American Civil War. Gone With the Wind is a film firmly rooted in that of its heroine Scarlet, and Vivien Leigh tasked with anchoring this monstrosity of a film has quite a task on her hand. There are so many things that Leigh overcomes that her Oscar win is more than deserved. Not only is she in the majority of scenes, she’s not even American, it’s one of her earliest roles and the character isn’t exactly a burst of fresh air. But it’s the sort of role that when done well is excellent, and Viven sure is excellent.

I’ve never really gotten why this has become notorious as a love story, and I still don’t really see Clark Gable as the lead actor. Granted, I’m no big fan of his. But Gone With the Wind is neither a love story, not a civil war story. It’s a story about coping when you find your life is in shambles. It is completely Scarlet’s story and everyone else is just a supporting character. And for the most part they’re good. Of course Olivia De’Havilland and Hattie McDaniel are worthy of praise, and Clark Gable is good. But I can’t love him completely because I always 1prefer the first half of Gone with the Wind to the second. It’s almost like two different films. The bright and loud first section with all those group scenes and the second bleaker section with the war etc. of course, it’s all good anyway you look at it. It's #63.