What's the AFI project, you ask? For more information, or if you just enjoy my bemused ramblings, read here: http://www.spout.com/blogs/pippin06/archive/2008/3/1/25756.aspx
A Streetcar Named Desire is on the following AFI lists:
The Original Top 100 (#45)
100 Greatest Love Stories (#67)
100 Movie Quotes: (2 total)
(#45 - Stanley Kowalski: "Stella! Hey, Stella!" #75 - Blanche DuBois: "I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.")
25 Film Scores (#19)
The Revised Top 100 (#47)
Moving right along in this project, and as far away from The Birth of a Nation as I possibly can go, the next AFI entry, A Streetcar Named Desire, I watched instantly on Netflix (have I mentioned lately how I love that service?). This movie is based on the play by Tennessee Williams, which I've never read but have heard loads about. I've also heard quite a bit about the film adaptation because the inimitable Vivien Leigh played the lead, Blanche DuBois, and while she credited the film with driving her into madness (reference her biographies), what history now illustrates is that she was already suffering from manic depression/bipolar disorder in life to debilitating extremes, but her condition can't have been eased by playing a delusional alcoholic. This also marks one of Marlon Brando's earliest but most iconic film appearances as Stanley Kowalski, Blanche's brutal brother-in-law. Thus, this film intrigued me on several levels.
Blanche DuBois (Leigh) rides into New Orleans on a streetcar named Desire (isn't that tricky?) to stay with her pregnant sister Stella (Kim Hunter) and husband Stanley (Brando) in their seedy two-room apartment. Blanche tells her sister the tale of taking a sabbatical from her job as an English teacher but reveals that she "lost" her family's large estate in Mississippi. Blanche is also all Southern belle airs and manners, frequently flirting with Stanley in her best coquettish style, commenting on the gentility of the beaux who used to woo her in her youth, and manifesting all forms of aristocratic facades. She clings to her fading but still vibrant beauty, playing the part of the proverbial old maid, though she fills her spare moments consuming the household spirits. While Stella is forgiving of her sister's quirks and manners, Stanley is annoyed by Blanche's pretenses and believes the family estate was not lost but, rather, that Blanche is withholding what is due her sister and, by proxy, him. Blanche and Stanley, in fact, are like oil and water: Blanche is prim, proper, and prone to allowing her desires to create the illusions that mask her reality. Stanley is raw, primal, passionate, and brutal and acts on his desires without forethought as to consequences. He seems to genuinely care for Stella, but he is nothing short of abusive toward both his wife and sister-in-law. While Stella admits that this violent quality attracted her to him, Blanche can't understand his naked aggression or Stella's submission to it. Blanche is temporarily distracted, however, by the affections of Stanley's poker-playing friend Mitch (Karl Malden), to whom she is also attracted; she controls their dalliances, staging them at night and according to aristocratic etiquette, to keep hidden the skeletons in her closet. Stanley's sour disposition toward Blanche leads him to check into the possible lost inheritance, and he ends up discovering from a traveling salesman and co-worker that Blanche is not on a temporary leave of absence; in fact, she was fired from her position after having an affair with a 17 year old. Stanley betrays this information to Mitch; razes Stella about her complicit nature toward her sister; and finally confronts Blanche with the truth, after which their simmering feud erupts into a turbulent boil.
I liked this film, but I didn't love it. I think the most fascinating part of watching this film was seeing an "older" Vivien Leigh, 12 years after Scarlett O'Hara, and seeing a "younger" Marlon Brando, on the cusp of his rising fame. What I noted when I first started watching the film was that Blanche DuBois is not a terribly far cry from Scarlett – at first. When she descends into her more frequent bouts of intoxication and slowly begins to acknowledge the grisly and harsh elements of her reality, however, Blanche's many layers surface, and she becomes quite a complex character study, focusing on the effects of grief and possible triggers for mental illness. I thought Leigh gave a great performance, though, on more than one occasion, I felt her channeling Scarlett and her best temper tantrums through some of Blanche's more melodramatic meltdowns. After reading up on this film and on Vivien Leigh's life, I learned that, while the rest of the cast was transplanted from the Broadway production of this play, Blanche, who was originally played by Jessica Tandy (imagine her in the role!), was filled by the West End's Blanche (Leigh) for her star power. Was she the best choice in the end? That's hard to say, but what isn't hard to say is that it was really hard for me to separate her from Scarlett the whole time I was watching the film. I mean, what if Scarlett lost, say, Ashley or Rhett to suicide, started drowning her sorrows in whiskey and the affections of some young buck down the lane from Tara, and then went to move in with her sisters SueEllen or Carrie and their abusive, no-nonsense husband? Wouldn't she turn out to be just like Blanche DuBois? The way Leigh played the part, I think there's only one answer to that question, which is a question that might not have been asked otherwise with someone else in the role. I liked her, and it was interesting to see her in something besides Gone with the Wind, but yet, my disbelief wasn't quite suspended here.
On the other hand, Marlon Brando was outstanding as Stanley. He seemed to really zero in on the most visceral aspects of the character to create someone who could literally veer like a pendulum from cuddly though passionate, even animalistic (and sexy) teddy bear to villainous abuser in a lightning-quick way. His performance truly accentuated the character's complexities that helped me, the viewer, to hate loving him and love hating him at all of the right moments. Plus, he was so nice to look at when he was younger, wasn't he?
Technically, I liked the use of the camera to show the perspective of the particular character. I think Elia Kazan and his cinematographers tended to zoom in on Blanche when she was struggling through reality and illusion. To Leigh's credit, she was always able to change her facial expressions in such a palpable way that, even if her voice didn't quite match the look, the look said it all, and Kazan maximized Leigh's performance through the use of the camera. Yet, wider shots of the apartment served to contrast Blanche's imaginary world of her past with the reality of her present and how her presence would truly be imposing on the Kowalskis.
The score was also amazing. Apparently, it marks one of the first examples of non-melodramatic, non-traditional, non-orchestral score, with its jazz-infused themes that were meant to accentuate the psychological state of each character rather than dramatize the events of the scene. While the art direction and lighting were also very good, I think this score defines the film's very texture, and it definitely deserves its placement on the appropriate AFI list.
Still, I had some small complaints, which is what prevents me from loving the film and thinking it's the masterpiece that some likely say it is. The pacing is quite choppy, and I don't know if that's more owing to the way the play was adapted or to the actual tempo of the delivery of the adaptation, but I grew restless in the middle, particularly when Blanche and Mitch are exploring their possible love affair. Additionally, it bothered me that no one besides Blanche had a Southern accent, and even if Stanley wasn't from around New Orleans originally (which I could believe), Stella and Blanche were sisters, but Kim Hunter never really effected much of a Southern twang. Also, while I think Mr. Kazan attempted to ratchet up the tension and heat during all of the right moments, various oversight boards of the day censored some of the material in the transfer from play to screen in an effort to keep the film "decent," and I think the film lost something when that happened. While I thought it was highly interesting for a film of its day to see Stella in bed, under the covers and clearly unclothed, after some make-up sex (essentially) with Stanley, what I didn't realize was that Blanche's first husband had homosexual affairs. I only learned that when I read a synopsis of both film and stage play after watching the film. Blanche alludes to ridiculing him with jokes, which is what possibly led to his suicide, but her whole story was so confusing, I wasn't able to process it from the movie. Since that factoid was sacrificed at the hands of the censorship process, I have to believe that the story lost some other important pieces too. In fact, it was only through some deduction and the strong implications of the direction of some of the climactic final scenes that I realized what happened between Stanley and Blanche in the end.
Still, A Streetcar Named Desire contains a well-told story with an amazing ensemble of actors, which makes its placement on the Greatest lists understandable, and it's definitely worth the watch. I think it merits an 8 for being very good despite minor flaws, but I don't think it passes the test, considering that it's actually a dark movie, exploring some of the darker facets of the human condition, that I couldn't see myself pulling out for giggles. Besides, I own Gone with the Wind for my fill of Scarlett-y Vivien Leigh and the Godfather for my fill of Brando (though he was, of course, not as pretty by then). Also, I think I'd much rather read the play if I want to re-expose myself to this story in the future.