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?

Harry Potter & the Deathly Hallows

I’ve remarked before that The Chamber of Secrets and The Goblet of Fire would appear at the bottom of any list I made ranking the potter films. The former is thoroughly bland and based on the least interesting novel, and the latter is just a terrible adaptation. Incidentally, I’m quick to cheer on The Half Blood Prince which is an even more injudicious adaptation but still ends up being a fine film – for me, at least. The moral of the story is that an imprudent adaptation does not necessarily result in a poor film. That’s an important note in the context of the latest Potter instalment. Like any Potter diehard (you know yourselves) I had no qualms about the splitting of the final book into two films, although I was a bit unnerved at the point they decided to split it. More than a few fans have complained about X moment being cut from the film and the solution seems astute, but it doesn’t really work out that way...

As much as the Potter books are about magic Rowling is not an expressly visual author, the whole point to her writing is that magic is only a by-the-way in inclusion and that sort of writing doesn’t work when the adaptation is so judicious. The essential problem about the film is that it seems torn between being an all-round visual tumult or an emotional examination (which is what most of the actual book is). This uncertain tone makes the film somewhat erratic. This instalment was always going to be the biggest risk, film-wise, because it doesn’t occur in the hallowed hall of Hogwarts leaving the trio to fend for themselves. Grint is still easily the strongest of the lot for me, and it’s not that Radcliffe and Watson can’t work on their own because there’s a sweet moment where the two of them dance in the woods that’s surprisingly moving but the pacing of the film is lacking that distinct sense of foreboding that is necessary for us to feel the tension that the narrative needs. Rowling can get away with it, but a film – which is making attempts at having a sort of omniscience or at the very least object in the narrative – doesn’t have as profound effect. We can’t focus for so long on the Ron/Hermione/Harry dynamic alone because we’re only to judge their plight if we measure it against the outside world. This is why the strongest moment of the film is the opening as we switch from the homes of our three leads and seeing how the current times are affecting them. It’s a well constructed moment on Yates part that especially affecting but what comes after – a smattering of too on the nose humour that works in literature but doesn’t in cinema – robs the moments of its importance.

 

As a fan of all things Harry Potter I can appreciate what happens because I’m a general fanboy (sue me), but I’ll admit that though there are smattering of moments work they’re too often followed by moments that don’t. The tale of the Hallows works well, the unfolding of Mr. Lovegood’s character doesn’t – at all. Ron’s growing resentment for Harry works (thanks, mostly, to Grint) but his departure and return don’t resound as much as you’d expect. I wouldn’t say I’m disappointed, because the film is not terrible (it’s fairly good, really) but it’s a perfect example of something falling short when it tries to please all. No matter if they decided to do away some plot points you know that fans would have still flocked to see it, so instead of going the easy way and doing a fairly rote cinematic version of the book I’d have been more impressed if Yates and company actually did the brave thing and made a movie of their own “based on” the novel. Ah well, here’s the second instalment.

        

B-

Literature Review

I’m reading “Jane Eyre” at the moment and it’s annoying me a little. I read it at a very young age, but that was one of those ludicrously abridged Illustrated Classics, reading it for an English Lit class is way more taxing – that book is long. I’m not a huge fan of the Bronte’s – save for “Wuthering Heights” which I sort of worship, sort of. We just wrapped up “Pride & Prejudice” and the parallels between Austen’s narrative and Charlotte are a bit striking if you look at it in the right perspective, and then I came across this article which amused me. It seems many are not fond of Austen, Bronte included. I’m a Jane Austen apologist, but in her defence – no one can take such simple plots and turn them into brilliant ruminations like she. “Jane Eyre”? Not so much.  After the atrocity of “Robinson Crusoe” – I refuse to retract that statement, I loathed the book - Henry Fielding and Jane Austen were welcome distractions, but now we're on to Bronte and Charlotte and her fancifulness aren’t making me very pleased. Ah, school is bland – and then we’re doing “Paradise Lost” for Poetry – ugh, not a fan of Milton....

           

Speaking of aged 18th century lit, though, I had the weirdest experience last week. I went into a library, told the Librarian that I was looking for Caribbean plays. She’s there looking and turns to me, “Oliver Twist isn’t Caribbean, is it?” W! T! F!??????????????? It’s not Caribbean, it’s not even a freakin’ play! And from a librarian? And people wonder why I have no faith in humanity. Sigh.

            

What have you been reading lately? I hope it’s for pleasure, and not for school. Scholastic reading always ends up becoming tedious...

Literature Review

I’m feeling foolish at the moment, or perhaps lazy is the appropriate word. Even though I spend a good deal of my holiday reading I don’t think I’m ready for literary stuff and my Novel Course this semester begins with Daniel Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe. If you’ve never read Defoe, here’s a hint – the man never heard of chapters. I’m already balking at re-reading it, actually I can’t even remember it clearly so it’s like I’ll be reading it for the first time. Then on to Joseph Andrews by Henry Fielding (I wish it was Tom Jones) and then Pride & Prejudice and Jane Eyre. Wuthering Heights is the only Bronte book I like so that means, other than Pride & Prejudice I’m not looking forward to this semester of reading (and then next year, The Mill on the Floss. Ick!)  On the topic of Jane Austen, though, why do her books make for such good cinema?

          

Am I being harsh? Which of these is worth a second read? What have you been reading lately?

Literature Review

Wuthering Heights is such a depressing novel, I wonder why I keep rereading. Of course it will be compulsory on my reading list, so it doesn’t hurt to get reacquainted with it. It’s still the only Brontë novel I like (neither Jane Eyre or Agnes Grey, et al do move me). I used to consider the possibility of Joaquin Phoenix and Kate Winslet reteaming for a film (or TV) adaptation of it – but I suppose they’re too old. I’m still not sure that the “current” version ever will be made. 

               

I’ve lazily reached an impasse with Wicked: The Life & Times of the Wicked Witch of the East. I should restart it soon, Jose says it’s a blast (as have many others). It doesn’t help that I’m being distracted by David Sedaris’ hilarious Me Talk Pretty One Day (which reinforces the possible fact that gay writers are funnier than us straight folks). Honestly, though, Sedaris may be one of the best nonfiction writers ever – although nonfiction sounds like the wrong word to describe something so irreverent.

    

(I should be blogging more.)

         

What have you been reading lately?

“I Coulda Been A Contender”

I have a strong appreciation for Elia Kazan even though I realise that it’s often more of a sympathetic appreciation than an objective appreciation of his talent. Not that the man hasn’t done good work (three of his films appear in my top 100 - previously, previously) - look at his resume! but I always feel sorry for him. The first thing that occurs too often when they hear his name is his involvement in the naming of names in post-war America. No paragon of goodness myself I often wonder about the backlash that occurs when persons criticise Kazan. It’s a dissonance that further ensues when one of my favourite playwrights Arthur Miller severed his bond with Kazan over the issues. Miller wrote his masterwork “A View From the Bridge” to show what he thought of informers (a play I love), Kazan crafted On the Waterfront to assess the motives behind the informer. I can’t pit play against film, but I will say that few stories of the time are as moving as Kazan’s On the Waterfront. It’s the classic Brando performance, the rebellious young man at odds with the world he lives with. On the Waterfront’s story is simple.

Not so long ago I cited Brando’s performance as the best actor decision the Academy made. It’s a clichéd thought, and though I may change some of the choices I’m not liable to change that one. The film is constructed as such that Brando is give a chance to run the full gamut of his talent, and he plays it just right – never too much, or too little. There is not a moment onscreen where his eclectic charm isn’t obvious. Little moments like his chemistry with Eva Marie Saint, his conflicted decisions between right and wrong and those fierce final moments with Lee J. Cobb. It is true that On the Waterfront is at its best when he take the screen, but considering that he is in virtually every scene that means the film is always soaring.

However, it’s not a one-man show. That’s what makes On the Waterfront the little bit of excellence that it is. From Eva Marie Saint’s nervous Edie, to Karl Malden’s somewhat hammy (but still effective) priest, Lee J. Cobbs terrifying “boss” and Rod Steiger’s conflicted brother. Take for example the famous scene from On the Waterfront, everyone knows that Brand “coulda been a contender”, but as noted in the DVD commentary this scene works not only because of the ferocity of Brando here. Steiger knows full well when to hold back and when to let loose. The expression on his face as he gives Brando that gun is a brilliant moment for him, he knows full well what this means for his life and with two geniuses in the backseat of that car Kazan works magic.

For a director so often enraptured with the eccentricities of humanity I can see how On the Waterfront seems like a discordant note in Kazan’s repertoire. I’m aware, actually, that it’s more than just a little zeitgeist and perhaps just a tad – a tad – but On the Waterfront is crafted with intelligence and with skill. Always taut, never pandering, On the Waterfront may be idealist in the strictest of definitions but it is never implausible and it is smart. In the battle of Miller vs Kazan I can’t choose a winner, but On the Waterfront always thrills me and remains as a deserving Best Picture winner, if there ever was one. It sits snugly at #26 on my list of favourite films. It may be regarded as American classic, but I don’t think it takes an American to love it.

Literary Pursuits

I always like to see cinema mentioned in other art forms, especially when it’s an inside joke of sorts. One of the plays I’m reading at the moment – Moon On A Rainbow Shawl – is a Caribbean piece examining the social ideology of post war Trinidad, but I love this particular snippet between two of the main characters.

                        

Rosa: You is a real good looking man, you know?

                       

Ephraim: Good looking, like who?

                    

Rosa: Robert Taylor…

                                   

Ephraim: Please. Go way!

                                         

Rosa: Jimmy Stewart…?

              

Ephraim: He good lookin’?

         

Rosa: William Holden…?

       

Ephraim: Yes, that’s it. Me and he is twins!

                                      

Despite liking him in Picnic and Sunset Boulevard, I still find that Holden rarely interests me as an actor, sometimes bordering on tedious. But I’m speaking as a straight male? Jimmy? Robert? William? Who wins on looks?

(Not on talent – Jimmy obviously wins for that, right?)

Literary Pursuits

One of the great things about being a naturally voracious reader is that when I have to do reading for University I’m usually way ahead of the game. Case in point, the book we’re currently studying is Ibsen’s Hedda Gabler. It’s one of the six plays we’re doing this semester (the others: Oedipus Rex, Othello, Death of a Salesman, Ti-Jean & His Brothers, Moon On a Rainbow Shawl). And like so many books, I read it way before I could even grasp the actual themes. Nevertheless, even though I know it’s wrong, I still find Hedda to be hilarious (inadvertently, of course). Next to Shakespeare’s shrewish Katherina and Tennessee’s Blanche Dubois few female roles thrill me as much as Ms. Gabler. I’m trying to get my hands on the Glenda Jackson film version. I still consider it the best in her career of illustrious performances. Shouldn’t she have won the Oscar that year? I wonder if it’s too soon for a remake…. Cate Blanchett seems like an obvious choice, but I suppose she’d be too old…what do you think?

Have you been doing any significant reading recently (academic or secular)? Have you read Hedda? Who’d you cast in a remake? Sound off below.