Film of the Week: Summer and Smoke, 1961

Tennessee Williams was responsible for writing some of the most beautiful, and bleak, dramas in American theater history. Many of his plays were made into feature films which continue to move and startle us to this day.

In 1945, Williams began work on a play that he called, Chart of Anatomy. He later changed the name to Eccentricities of a Nightingale and later, to Summer and Smoke based on a line from the Hart Crane poem, "Emblems of Conduct.”

Summer and Smoke centers around the residents of the town of Glorious Hills, Mississippi at the turn of the Twentieth Century. True to his usual Southern Gothic themes, Williams has woven a tale of repression, manners, debauched behavior and betrayal.

Geraldine Page

 At the middle of the story is neurotic Alma Winemiller whose religious-nature and tragic home life make for a difficulty in forming relationships. She has an unrequited affection for Dr. John Buchanan, Junior—a young doctor whose passions and wildness continue to be a disappointment to his family. Alma cares for her mentally ill mother and fills the role of “wife” with her father. She’s the grudging head of the household upon whose shoulders the burdens of the family rest. By the end, constant disappointment and a growing addiction to tranquilizers lead Alma away from her true nature, or, perhaps toward a path of truth for which she was unprepared.

The film starred Laurence Harvey(as John Buchanan) and Geraldine Page (as Alma Winemiller) with Rita Moreno, Una Merkel, John McIntire, Thomas Gomez, Pamela Tiffin, Malcolm Atterbury, Lee Patrick and Earl Holliman. Produced by Hal Wallis and directed by Peter Glenville, the film received four Academy Award nominations including Best Actress for Geraldine Page’s performance and Best Supporting Actress for Una Merkel’s portrayal of Alma’s off-kilter mother.

This beautiful Technicolor film features accurate Victorian sets and turn-of-the-century costumes which create a wonderful setting for this story of despair and confusion. No, Tennessee Williams never offers up a laugh-riot, but his drama is top-notch. This is further proof of his brilliance.

Film of the Week: Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, 1958

“Mendacity!” That was most-likely what Tennessee Williams said of the 1958 film version of his successful 1955 Broadway play, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. Williams did not care much for the film, finding that the toned-down sexuality of the picture strayed too much from his original concept. Still, the film is a triumph from a cinematic standpoint and features excellent performances from its principal cast which includes Elizabeth Taylor as “Maggie the Cat,” Paul Newman as “Brick,” Burl Ives as “Big Daddy,” Judith Anderson as “Big Mama” and Jack Carson as “Gooper.”

Much like the play, the film explores the interpersonal relationships of a wealthy Southern family as they weave in-and-out of discussions about truth, loyalty and fidelity. Newman is perfect as Brick—the aging, alcoholic, former football hero/favorite son and frigid husband. Taylor is the ideal, overwrought Maggie who wants nothing more than her husband’s love. Taylor wasn’t the first choice for “Maggie.” The role was originally offered to Grace Kelly who probably wouldn’t have been as deliciously neurotic in the part. Similarly, the role of “Brick” was first offered to Elvis Presley who turned down the part. That would have been quite a different film. Burl Ives reprises the role he made famous on stage and he’s joined by the always-excellent Judith Anderson as the melodramatic and misunderstood “Big Mama.”

The film is particularly interesting when one considers the back-stage drama. Taylor became a widow during the film’s production when her husband at the time, Mike Todd, was tragically killed in a plane crash. She took a brief break from the production, seeking solace in the company of her friend, Monty Clift. When she returned to the production, she was considerably thinner and more fragile, but nonetheless gave an excellent performance.

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof offers up just the right amount of tawdry, steamy Southern drama and is the perfect way to spend a chilly Sunday afternoon.

Film of the Week: A Face in the Crowd, 1957

This is certainly not Mayberry. Aunt Bee, Otis and Opie are nowhere to be found and Barney most assuredly would not approve. Here, we see Andy Griffith as the antithesis of his long-running TV counterpart.

This is the story of Lonesome Rhodes (Griffith), a drifter and criminal who is discovered (quite by accident) in an Arkansas prison by Marcia Jeffries, a radio producer. Jeffries (Patricia Neal) enlists Rhodes (whose real name was Larry) to sing on her radio program. Rhodes is an instant hit and quickly becomes a radio staple. His behavior, at first, displeases the show’s sponsors as he continually mocks their products. He’s fired, but his fan-base is so enormous that he’s quickly sky-rocketed to fame.

With writer Mel Miller (Walter Matthau) and Marcia at his side, Rhodes embarks on a television career and becomes one of the most celebrated popular figures in the country. Insufferable and foul, Rhodes is somehow attractive to people who can’t see his true nature behind his aw-shucks, country persona. Marcia finds herself entangled with Rhodes and soon becomes engaged to him, only to be heartbroken when Rhodes returns from a tour with a new bride (Lee Remick in her first film role).

Rhodes soon becomes involved in politics and as the loathsome man is about to be appointed to an important cabinet position, Marcia realizes she must destroy the monster that she created, and the man she loves.

Andy Griffith gives a brilliant, and truly disturbing performance which makes you wonder who much of his real personality was Andy Taylor and how much was Lonesome Rhodes. The character is said to be based on several similar performers of the 1950’s including Arthur Godfrey, and possibly an evil Will Rogers.

The picture, written by Bud Schulberg and directed by Elia Kazan, is an interesting glimpse into the power of celebrity in both culture and politics and how we, as a nation, allow ourselves to be enticed by corruption. For a look at Andy Griffith in a rare dramatic role and at some exceptional performances, this film is an absolute must.

Film of the Week: Sunset Boulevard, 1950

The Opening Shot
Paramount Pictures

“I am big. It’s the pictures that got small.”

--Norma Desmond

A man floats—face down—in a pool. We see him from beneath as he is gently fished from the freezing water—his body lifeless. We learn via a voice over that if you want to know the real facts, “You’ve come to the right party.”

Joseph C. Gillis was a screenwriter who was down on his luck. He needed some cash—quick—or his car was going to be repossessed. He tries various means of obtaining the funds that he needs—even going as far as trying to pitch a half-hearted script to Paramount Pictures. The only bite he gets is the biting criticism of one of Paramount’s lowly readers, a girl named Betty Schaefer.

The Principal Cast:
Nancy Olson, Gloria Swanon,
William Holden, Erich Von Stroheim
Paramount Pictures

Dejected, Gillis attempts to take his car back to the parking lot where he’d been hiding it, but the repo men spot him on Sunset Boulevard. They chase Gillis whose car blows a tire. The limping car is pulled out of sight into the driveway of one of those grand palazzos—the kind that crazy movie stars built in the crazy 1920’s. The house, somewhat run-down, seemed abandoned. So, Gillis pulled the crippled car into the garage. He’s shocked when the deep voice of a woman calls down to him, “You there! Why are you so late?” Ushered into the mansion by a bald, ape-like butler with a German accent, Gillis is told, “If you need help with the coffin, call me.”

Unsure of what to make of the scene, Joe ascends the grand staircase to meet the woman who had called to him. He’s not quite sure what to expect at the top of the stairs. A woman of fifty, elegantly dressed in a gown and turban meets him and describes the kind of coffin she wants—a satin lining in white…no red. “He loved fires and poking at them with a stick.” She pulls back a sheet which covers a small figure on a massage table by the fire to reveal a dead monkey. Joe explains that there’s been some mistake. He is not the man that the woman expected. Furious, she orders him out. He pauses as he recognizes her as Norma Desmond. “You used to be in pictures. You used to be big.”

"I am big..."
Paramount Pictures

“I am big.” Norma barks, “It’s’ the pictures that got small.”

Joe finds himself quickly embroiled in Norma’s dusty Baroque world of memories and creative rambling. Once a great silent film star, she hasn’t worked in decades—seemingly forgotten by her once adoring public. Norma proposes that Joe help her with the screenplay that would mark her triumphant return (she hates the word, “comeback”) to the screen. Joe agrees. Little does he realize that he’d soon find himself living in Norma’s house and becoming the object of her affections.

Norma's New Year's Seduction
Paramount Pictures

At first, Joe tries to extricate himself from Norma and her peculiar butler, Max, but soon he begins to grow accustomed to the opulent lifestyle she can offer him. In fact, he grows rather fond of her—almost protective. Yet, after evenings spent with the “Waxworks”—Norma’s collection of other silent film stars (played by real greats of the silent screen), and Norma’s increasingly jealous and controlling behavior, Joe flees the mansion on New Year’s Eve just as Norma declares her intentions. Norma attempts suicide, and Joe returns, thus beginning their affair.

Paramount Pictures

What follows is one of the most fascinating films ever created. Sunset Boulevardwas a triumph—headed by writer/director Billy Wilder whose bitter criticism of the film industry was readily apparent in the film. He was considered a traitor by fellow directors and performers. In casting the film, Wilder went through many different ideas of actresses to play Norma Desmond—including Mae West. Finally, he cast Gloria Swanson whose own life eerily mirrored that of Norma’s in many ways. The set was filled with pictures of Swanson which must have been rather surreal for her—especially since she had begun working alongside Erich Von Stroheim who was to play her companion and servant, Max Von Mayerling—a former silent film director. Von Stroheim was actually a director who worked with Swanson on the film Queen Kelly which marked the beginning of the end of Swanson’s career.

Holden and Swanson
Paramount Pictures

For the role of the young writer, Joseph Gillis, Wilder initially wanted Montgomery Clift. Clift accepted the part, but then backed out of the film. Clift had a habit of backing out of big name films for peculiar reasons all of his own. He would grow to regret the decision. Instead, the part went to William Holden whose career was also in a downward swing. Sunset Boulevard served to resurrect his career. Though quite different in acting style and appearance than Montgomery Clift, Holden brings a masculine quality to the role of Joe Gillis which works quite nicely against Norma’s histrionics.

Real-life Hollywood greats of the twenties and thirties appear as themselves in the film including C.B. DeMille, Anna Q. Nillson, H.B, Warner, Buster Keaton and Hedda Hopper. Wilder labored over the film—changing the introduction (set in a morgue) after the sequence elicited unintended snickers from a preview audience. The result—though widely panned by Hollywood insiders at the time—is now considered one of the greatest cinematic masterpieces ever created.

 

"All right, Mr. DeMille.  I'm ready for my close-up."
Paramount Pictures

With a dramatic, Baroque set, equally dramatic score by Franz Waxman, riveting performances, cutting-edge camera work and a truly shocking script, Sunset Boulevardwill always remain on the list of the finest films (especially among Film Noir) ever made.

The film has influenced many art forms and had been an inspiration to actors and writers alike.  A musical version by Andrew Lloyd-Webber was praised by Billy Wilder for its faithfulness to his original work.  Enjoy this clip from one of the first trailers for Sunset Boulevard.  

Film of the Week: Suddenly, Last Summer, 1959

Oh, Sebastian, what a lovely summer it's been. Just the two of us. Sebastian and Violet. Violet and Sebastian. Just the way it's always going to be. Oh, we are lucky, my darling, to have one another and need no one else ever.

--Katharine Hepburn as “Violet Venable”

In 1958, Southern playwright Tennessee Williams, debuted a double-bill of one-act plays at an off-Broadway theater. The two plays were Something Unspoken and Suddenly, Last Summer and were presented under the titleGarden District (a reference to the elite neighborhood of New Orleans).

Suddenly, Last Summer was a dark play with disturbing themes that concerned a wealthy Southern family. Violet Venable—a domineering widow—was still reeling from the death of her only son, Sebastian. Her niece, Catherine Holly, was the last person to see Sebastian alive when he died “suddenly, last summer.” In order to silence Catherine’s less-than-flattering recollections of Sebastian’s last days, Violet has ordered that the girl be lobotomized. She contracts a gentle doctor, John Cukrowicz, to perfom the surgery. Soon, Dr. Cukrowicz finds himself embroiled in this sick family drama and realizes that it isn’t Catherine who needs the lobotomy.

When Columbia Pictures bought the film rights to the play and began to develop their cinematic production, Tennessee Williams was against the casting of Elizabeth Taylor as the vulnerable Catherine Holly. He stated, "It stretched my credulity to believe such a 'hip' doll as our Liz wouldn't know at once in the film that she was 'being used for something evil.” Nevertheless, Taylor gives one of her best performances—an achievement which brought her a Golden Globe Award for the role and an Academy Award Nomination.

Taylor urged director Joseph Mankiewicz to cast her long-time friend Montgomery Clift as Cukrowicz. Clift, who had been struggling with an addiction to pain killers and alcohol, was deemed too difficult and erratic to be a good risk for the studio. However, Taylor got her way. Joining Clift and Taylor is Katharine Hepburn who gives Violet Venable the necessary bite and wit. Hepburn and Taylor were very protective of Clift who was often mistreated by the director. At the end of the production, Hepburn politely asked if they were finished. When told that they were, she walked up to Mankiewicz and spit in his face, saying, “That’s for Monty.”

The behind-the-scenes drama continued as composer Malcolm Arnold walked off the project after finding the film too upsetting. His work was finished by Buxton Orr. Furthermore, the studio met with resistance from the Catholic Legion of Decency who objected to the many references to Sebastian’s homosexuality. By their command, these references were largely removed or made as vague as possible. Furthermore, you’ll notice that we never see Sebastian’s face nor hear his voice in any flashbacks. This was also due to the Catholic Legion of Decency who ordered that the character not be recognizable as any particular person.

Though it’s a watered-down version of Williams’ original play, the film is gripping and emotional. Spectacularly acted, it’s a film that, while disturbing, is one that everyone interested in cinematic history should see.

Film of the Week: They Won’t Forget, 1937

Though at first glance, 1937’s They Won’t Forget seems like a simple story about a small Southern town, a secretarial school, a girl and her sweater. As the film continues, however, it’s clear that there’s more going on. This is a tale of racism, murder and continued, post-Civil-War resentment.


Based on Ward Greene’s novel Death in The Deep South, the film is also a fictionalized account of a true murder case—1913’s trial and subsequent lynching of Leo Frank following the murder of Mary Phagan. Directed by an un-credited Mervyn LeRoy and produced by Jack Warner for Warner Brothers, the film stars Claude Rains, Gloria Dickson, Edward Norris, and an almost unrecognizable Lana Turner in her first film role.

The film begins on Confederate Memorial Day as a small Southern Town is rocked by the murder of one of their most beloved young citizens. What develops in a vicious tale of politics, prejudice and enduring distrust between the North and the South.

Rains gives an excellent performance as cruel District Attorney, Andrew Griffin. Similarly, Edward Norris is superb in the role of the teacher who is wrongly accused of the girl’s murder. The performances are heavily 1930’s in style, but they hold up well and are perfect in communicating the subject matter without being overwrought.

It’s an interesting film which doesn’t get much attention or play. It’s one that would be wroth finding and watching if you have an interest in history or are a fan of the always engaging Mr. Rains. 

Film of the Week: The Petrified Forest, 1936

Before Jezebel and beforeGone with the Wind, Leslie Howard and Bette Davis were young actors signed by Warner Brothers who were struggling to get the kinds of parts that they knew would best showcase their talents. Both Davis and Howard had starred in Robert Sherwood’s Broadway hit, The Petrified Forest about a group of people from vastly different backgrounds who are held captive in an Arizona diner by a ruthless gangster, Duke Mantee.

When Warner Brothers purchased the rights to the popular play, they immediately signed Davis to play the poet/waitress, Gabrielle and Howard as the dreaming philosopher, Alan Squire, who falls in love with Gabrielle. For the pivotal role of Duke, Warners wanted to cast Edward G. Robinson, a studio favorite and top-box-office performer. Davis and Howard were against the decision, stating that their former stage co-star Humphrey Bogart should play the role that he made famous on Broadway. Warner Brothers wasn’t keen on the idea. Who was this Bogart anyway? He had no record of film experience and he wasn’t terribly appealing.

Leslie Howard insisted that Bogart play Duke. He even threatened to walk off of the picture if Bogart wasn’t hired. Despite his reservations, Jack Warner relented and cast Bogart. Wasn’t he surprised when Bogart proved him wrong. This film introduced the world to Bogart and caused audiences to flock the theatres to see his understated performance which he based on real-life thug John Dillinger.

Bogart never forgot the fact that Leslie Howard was responsible for launching his film career. Later, Bogart and Lauren Bacall named their daughter Leslie in honor of Howard who had been killed in a plane crash during World War II.

The film is sublimely underplayed. Even Bette Davis gives a subtle performance which caused a reviewer from The New York Timesto note, “Davis demonstrates that she does not have to be hysterical to give a grand portrayal."

While the film’s theatrical roots are still evident (the picture is somewhat set-bound, rarely venturing from the diner set), it is much more successful than most films adapted from stage plays. The claustrophobic nature of the filming works with the plot and is a fascinating container for some of the most electrifying performances of early 1930’s cinema. 

Film of the Week: One Touch of Venus, 1948

"I'm not a murderer--this time."
Ava Gardner and Robert Walker

Whenever I see Robert Walker in something, I immediately expect whatever character he’s playing to turn out to be a murderous little weirdo. This isn’t really fair, I suppose. But, in a way, it’s a compliment. Walker’s star turn as the psychotic Bruno Antony in Alfred Hitchcock’s 1951 merry-go-round thrillerStrangers on a Train was just that convincing and smartly played. However, if you look closely at Walker’s body of work (which was all too short because of his untimely death at the age of 32), you’ll see he didn’t make a career of playing lunatics, but rather, was more often cast as the charming bumbler. And, so he was in 1948 with the fantasy/comedy/almost-musical One Touch of Venus.

Directed by William A. Seiter for Universal in 1948, the film is based on the Broadway musical of the same name. The original stage version featured a book written by S. J. Perelman and poet Ogden Nash, with music composed by the wonderful Kurt Weill with lyrics by Nash. While the film borrows the play’s story and theme, most of Weill’s music has been cut out of the show and largely replaced with dialogue.  One of the songs that remains, "Speak Low," with lyrics by Nash, remains a sentimental favorite.

The film stars Walker as Eddie Hatch, a young window dresser at an upscale department store owned by a pompous, wealthy cad played by brother-of-wife-beater-George-Sanders, Tom Conway, who looks and sounds so much like his more-famous sibling that it’s rather startling. The owner of the store, Whitfield, has just purchased an ancient and valuable statue of Venus for his art gallery, much to the amusement of his secretary, the droll and dry Molly, played by Eve Arden. Eddie finds himself summoned by Whitfield and happily allows his clingy girlfriend, Gloria, and his roommate to go off to dinner. Alone with the statue as he tries to prepare her display, Eddie sneaks a sip from Whitfield’s drink, and, slightly intoxicated and drawn to the sculpture’s beauty, he kisses her. This, of course, is enough to bring the statue to life and she takes the form of Ava Gardner, as statues often do.

If it sounds rather familiar (window dresser + animated inanimate object = awkward situations and hilarity), that’s because the film was the inspiration for the 1987 weirdness, Mannequin.

All in all, it’s a fun film, a light fantasy which offers no stress. To borrow a phrase from Mystery Science Theater 3000, when watching it, “you should say to yourself it’s just a show, and really just relax.” And, that’s what it does, relaxes you. So, if you want a nice fun family movie with Robert Walker not killing people in an amusement park, this is a good choice. 

Film of the Week: Light in the Piazza, 1962

Meg Johnson—the wife of a wealthy American executive—has taken her twenty-six year old daughter, Clara, on holiday to Italy. Clara, a delicate blonde seems like any other young American girl, at first. She’s delighted by the sights and smells of Italy, has a love for dogs and babies and is attracted to the dark-haired gents who find her appealing. On closer inspection, there is something a little different about Clara. He mother seems overly protective of the young woman who does, in fact, seem a little more innocent than most, a little more naive.

Meg has good reason to be protective of Clara. As a child, Clara suffered severe injuries in an accident and, as a result, is severely brain-damaged. While quite functional, Clara has the mental age of a small child. So, when a handsome Italian man named Fabrizio takes a fancy to Clara, Meg is rightfully concerned. As much as Meg tries to avoid Fabrizio, he keeps showing up with small tokens of affection for Clara and offers to show them the beauty of Italy.

Despite Meg’s concerns, Fabrizio and Clara fall in love. Soon, Meg has a difficult choice to make. Should she put a stop to the romance? Should she tell Fabrizio and his well-meaning family that her daughter is “different”? Of course, Meg’s husband has a lot to say on the subject—as does Clara herself. Eventually, Meg makes a decision, but is her choice the right one?

Based on the 1960 novella of the same name by Elizabeth Spencer, Light in the Piazzastars Olivia de Havilland as Meg Johnson, Yvette Mimieux as Clara and a young, remarkably un-leathery George Hamilton as Fabrizio. Produced by Arthur Freed and directed by Guy Green for MGM, this beautifully photographed film has long been a fan favorite as well as a source of inspiration for many people facing equally difficult romantic choices. In 2003, the novel and film were adapted into a musical which won a Tony Award in 2005.