Showing posts with label Elizabeth Taylor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Elizabeth Taylor. Show all posts

Monday, October 23, 2017

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

SPOILER ALERT! The plot will be discussed.
There are several aspects of this 1958 film directed and adapted by Richard Brooks which lend themselves to criticism. For one, the play on which it is based, written by Tennessee Williams, all but obliterates the homosexual bond between Brick Pollitt (Paul Newman) and his deceased football playing friend, Skipper, to comply with the Hollywood Production Code in force at that time. In a movie about lies, the script is dishonest about this relationship. (Williams did not like the movie). And, the story is heavy-handed in its metaphors. Brick literally carries a crutch around to mirror his use of alcohol as a psychological prop. Brick’s wife, Maggie (Elizabeth Taylor) refers to herself as a “cat on a hot tin roof,” because she is always in the hot seat when it comes to the family she has married into. She says she can’t jump off because there is no place else to go, which implies a lack of feminine empowerment. Calling a woman a “cat” is a sexist term, implying women are pretty on the outside and still have claws underneath to harm. It is also a slang reference for a prostitute.

However, the characters are fairly complex, and there are techniques that make the movie worth the watch. Even though the film retains the intensity of the stage version by keeping most of the action indoors, Brooks utilizes a variety of camera shots, ranging from close-ups to inclusive shots of the characters. He highlights one character in a scene over others by placing that person in the foreground. He also shoots upward to emphasize the “bigness” of Big daddy, and aims the camera downward when the point of view is from Big Daddy, to show how he views the world from his powerful height. The camera work “opens” up the presentation of the story, making it cinematic.

It is true that at the beginning of the film, Maggie, who came from poverty, seems to be using her sexual attractiveness to seduce Brick’s father, Big Daddy (Burl Ives) into leaving his fortune to Brick. But, as the story unfolds, we realize that her motivations are not just monetary. She has loving feelings for Brick, and cares about Big Daddy, so there is more to her than what first meets the eye. Brick has injured his leg while trying to jump hurdles in an attempt to recapture his football hero days. He wants to escape the truth of his current life, which includes feeling betrayed by his wife, and unloved by his father. He also has lost his best friend, Skipper, to suicide. His isolation is shown by his staying by himself in his bedroom. He hardly can look another person in the eyes. When he and Maggie speak, he talks with his back to her, not wanting to confront the reality involving his family, which includes his now celibate relationship with his wife.
The opening scenes are full of color outside among the flowers of the Pollitt estate. However, this appearance is just a glossy diversion from the selfish acts of the children of Brick’s brother, Gooper (Jack Carson) and his greedy wife, Mae (Madeleine Sherwood). They have a brood of noisy, spoiled children, who Gooper mostly ignores, as is illustrated by the indulgent way he handles one boy submerging his hands in the ice cream dessert. Mae is pregnant again. It appears that they are a happily married couple, but the excess procreation is just a ploy to win Big Daddy over into wanting his wealth and power handed down through future generations by bequeathing his assets to Gooper and Mae. Since Brick and Maggie are childless, Gooper and Mae feel they have the upper hand. It is no wonder the children only think of themselves given the parents they model themselves after. Big Daddy is dismissive of Gooper’s family’s fawning, greedy ways, but he should not be surprised. Gooper is his father’s son, since Big Daddy emphasized accumulation of wealth, and Gooper followed his father's prescription of material success by being practical and financially responsible.

Big Daddy and his wife, Ida, aka Big Mama (Judith Anderson), return from a medical assessment to find out what ails Big Daddy. He has digestive issues, but he says he has a clean bill of health. Maggie goes to tell Brick the good news that his father is okay, and asks him to join Big Daddy’s sixty-fifth birthday party celebration. Brick would rather wallow in his alcoholism. Maggie is at her wits end as she tries to embrace her husband who will have none of it. She is distraught by the absence of receiving any affection from Brick. He escapes, physically and mentally, into the bathroom. He caresses Maggie’s nightgown hanging on the door, indicating he is submerging his romantic feelings toward his wife. Ida bursts in, looking for Brick. She wants to know if he is still drinking, and says to Maggie that her son’s alcoholism and Maggie’s infertility have caused their marriage to fail. Even Dr. Baugh (Larry Gates) is deceitful here, trying to spare his patient and his wife the depressing fact that Big Daddy is actually stricken with terminal colon cancer. He reveals this fact to Brick while checking on his ankle. Gooper also knows about the severity of his father’s illness, but, he, too is hiding the truth from Big Daddy. Brick is honest about Big Daddy’s health to Maggie, who shows genuine sadness about her father-in-law’s illness.
A pouring rainstorm occurs, which is another obvious metaphor for the familial turbulence in the Pollitt family. Big Daddy seems to want honesty. He says that in his house there is, “a powerful and obnoxious odor of mendacity.”  He confronts Brick, who says, “I’m ashamed, Big Daddy. That’s why I’m a drunk. When I’m drunk, I can stand myself.” But Big daddy tells him the truth is “always there” whether he tries to escape it or not. He says that Brick didn’t kill Skipper; he killed himself. So, Brick should stop indulging in self-pity. He basically tells him to grow up. He says that Brick is deceiving himself by pretending to live in a child’s world with his fixation on his past football days. Big Daddy says, “Life ain’t no damn football game.”  He tells Brick that he is “dreamin’ and drinkin’” his life away. He adds, “heroes in the real world live twenty-four hours a day. Not just two hours in a game.” But Big Daddy is hypocritical about his marriage, saying life is “makin’ love to a woman you don’t love anymore.” And, he hasn’t confronted his own mistakes in the way he raised his children, or his feelings toward his own father.

Big Daddy pushes Maggie to tell what she knows about Skipper. She admits that she hated Brick’s football career, and his close association with his teammate,Skipper. She got Skipper drunk and thought about seducing him, to spite her husband and possibly break up the friendship between the two men. But, she changed her mind and backed out. Skipper was so drunk he did not know what happened between himself and Maggie, and called Brick to apologize. Brick, angry at both of them, hung up on his friend. It was after this episode that Skipper killed himself, and Brick now blames himself and Maggie for his death. Brick, not wanting to deal with these harsh truths, runs out into the rain storm. His car getting stuck in the mud is also symbolic of Brick being mired in his own escape from reality. As he tries to get out of the car, he breaks his crutch, which implies that he will now start the attempt to free himself from his dependence on alcohol and his escape from the shame he feels. But, he he brings Big Daddy along on his journey toward truth by telling his father that the doctor lied, and his condition is fatal.
The true selfishness of Mae, who eggs on Gooper, comes through as she and her husband hound Ida to get Big Daddy to take Brick out of the will. Maggie shows up and it becomes known that Big Daddy is terminal. There is a great deal of ugly squabbling as Mae pushes her argument that Brick is a worthless drunk and Maggie can’t provide offspring. Maggie calls Mae a low-life social climber who only wants to satisfy her greed. Ida reveals her previously disguised strength here as she resists the demands of Gooper and Mae.
With the knowledge of his impending death, Big Daddy retreats into the mansion’s cellar, where there are piles of objects that he and Ida have accumulated. It is almost like he is an Egyptian Pharaoh entering his tomb, where it is believed the accumulated wealth will follow the leader into the afterlife. Brick follows him there and asks him why he bought all of this stuff. Big Daddy says one keeps buying things hoping, “one of those things will be life everlasting.”  He talks about how he wanted to make up for the poverty of his youth. His father was a tramp riding boxcars, who took his son with him. He says he remembers the hunger and the shame. He says that his father died laughing, running after a train. Brick makes Big Daddy realize that maybe his father was happy in a life that gave him freedom, if not wealth. And, he tells his father, maybe he was, “happy at having you with him. He took you everywhere. He kept you with him.” He gets Big Daddy to admit that his father left him more than an empty suitcase - he also left him memories and love. Big daddy finally faces the truth that he actually loved his father.

Big Daddy then says that Brick should have come to the people who loved him when he was in trouble. But, Brick, who was looking away from people because he didn’t want to confront the problems in his life, now says to his father, “Look at me,” wanting Big Daddy to realize that all he offered Brick were things, when what he really needed was his father’s affection. Brick then trashes the objects in the cellar, showing his contempt for material things unaccompanied by true affection. The scene ends with the two men helping each other up the stairs, both needing each other to deal with their individual afflictions.

Despite his bad health, Big Daddy has a positive attitude and shows a closeness with his wife that rekindled after the enlightening encounter with Brick. Maggie stops Gooper and Mae in their tracks when she says that she is pregnant, thus deflating their argument that Brick and Maggie can’t carry on the family name. It is ironic that Maggie’s lie is a positive ploy here, as it brings an end to discord in the family. However, upstairs, in their bedroom, Brick says, “Maggie, we’re through with lies and liars in this house. Lock the door.” Supposedly they will become intimate again, and Brick will turn Maggie’s lie about a child into a truth.
The movie argues that the lies that we tell ourselves and others, believing they will protect us, only separate us from those whose love will sustain us.

The next film is The Shawshank Redemption.

Monday, May 16, 2016

Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

SPOILER ALERT! The plot of the movie will be discussed.


What an impressive film directing debut for Mike Nichols in this 1966 adaptation of Edward Albee’s acclaimed play. He had steered Broadway productions to success before this movie, which helped him here in dealing with stage material. But, he had to cope with the two biggest, and some may say most difficult, Hollywood stars of the time. The proof of his success is in the Oscar pudding: multiple nominations, including ones for its four main actors, the movie, and the director, with wins for best actress and supporting actress.
The story presents us with modern marital warfare. George (Richard Burton) is married to Martha (Elizabeth Taylor), who is the daughter of the president of a New England college. She constantly belittles her husband, admonishing him for not being aggressive enough to rise in the scholastic ranks. It’s as if the only reason for the two main characters to keep living is to play games that allow them to attack each other. When George points a rifle at Martha, which, when fired, only projects a parasol, Martha appears to get excited, saying, “Yeah, that was pretty good.” Later, after coming out of a bar, George and Martha get into a heated exchange, and their alternating sadomasochistic relationship is laid bare. George says that she humiliates him and tears him to pieces. Martha says to him, “You can stand it, you married me for it!”


But, the specific details here reverberate with more general concerns about the modern state of American life. Albee has said that the fact that George and Martha have the same names as the first president and lady of the United States is no accident. George significantly teaches in the history department, and there are numerous references to how these two, in a sense, represent history itself. George makes reference to being in the Punic Wars (they live in New Carthage, after all), and says that Martha is “a hundred and eight years old.” While speaking to Nick (George Segal), he channels his namesake by saying, “You take the trouble to construct a civilization, to build a society based on the principle of … principles. You make government and art and realize that they are, must be, both the same.” But, what judgment is rendered by the youthful Nick concerning what he has inherited? Nick says, “Up yours.” History provides knowledge through experience, and that understanding brings no optimism, in the context of this movie, for the future. The couple, which Martha has invited for drinks after a party at her father’s house, are, in contrast, young, thus representing the future. Nick teaches, appropriately, in the biology department, since that discipline evokes youthful physical development, sex, and procreation. It may even conjure up evolution. George, being the man of experience and an observer of history’s documentation of failed human endeavors, is skeptical of youth’s scientific plans for the future, including, as he notes, genetic manipulation.

These two men represent areas that purportedly deal in facts, certainties. But, in the world of modern twentieth century literature, absolutes are suspect because people began questioning what beliefs were taken for granted in the wake of world wars, racial holocaust, and the threat of nuclear annihilation. In the theater, the feeling of uncertainty is evoked by an inability to communicate anything definite, which leads to an inability to emotionally connect to others. So, in this story we have multiple instances of characters unable to comprehend what others are saying, or not capable of knowing what is really going on. Martha told George that Nick was in the Math Department, but Nick says he teaches Biology. Despite Nick’s protestations, George keeps saying he is in the Math Department. The two men sometimes confuse whose wife they are discussing. George discusses Martha’s rich stepmother. Nick says that she never mentioned a stepmother. To which George replies, “Maybe it isn’t true.” Toward the end, Nick says, “Hell, I don’t know when you people are lying, or what,” and George says, “You’re not supposed to.” Nick’s inebriated wife, Honey (Sandy Dennis), says that among the games the couples have been playing, is one she plays called, “peel the label.” She holds up a wine bottle and says, “I peel labels.” George metaphorically responds by saying, “We all peel labels, sweetie,” with the cliché of peeling the layers of an onion to get at the heart of things thus coming to mind. George tells a supposedly true story about a boy he knew in school who accidentally killed his mother with a shotgun and eventually his father in a car accident. Later, Martha implies that George admitted to her father that a novel he was working on contained that same tale, but admitted that he was the boy who killed his parents. What is the truth behind the tale? We don’t know, and that inability to truly understand “reality” is one of the points of the film.
Which brings us to the supposed existence of George and Martha’s boy. He warns her not to bring him up in front of the strangers. However, Martha mentions the youth to Honey. This admission after his warning angers George. We later get hints that the existence of the child is questionable. When George and Nick are outside near the tree with the swing (ironically, a child’s play thing), George says, “Martha doesn’t have pregnancies at all.” Later, because she has broken the rules of their game by speaking of the boy, and to retaliate against her sexual indiscretion with Nick, he decides to kill off the child. He says that there was a telegram that stated that their son was killed when his car hit a tree when he avoided hitting a porcupine, which was the same story he told about the boy who killed his father. (Accidents are mentioned often in the film. There are the two automobile ones, and George drives the car recklessly on the way to the bar. Also, in George’s story, the boy “accidentally” shot his mother, the gun incident mirrored in the mock shooting of Martha. These incidents lend a feeling of things being dangerously out of control and echo the destructive nature of George and Martha’s relationship.) Nick finally realizes, as George delivers a prayer for the dead in Latin, that his hosts could not have children.

The younger couple’s future does not seem all that promising. Nick admits that he married Honey because her father was rich and she was pregnant. However, Nick reveals to George that Honey had a hysterical pregnancy. Thus, there are parallels between the two couples, and it’s possible that Nick and Honey could turn into George and Martha, thus undermining the idea of evolutionary progression. George Washington is called the “father of our country,” but, here, with a modern George and Martha, we have a spiritually barren world, where the only things growing are regret, contempt and loneliness.
 There is a bit of hope, though, at the end. Honey, after hearing that George and Martha have no children, says emphatically, “I want a child!” which suggests that the future may have a glint of possibility in it. Martha even acknowledges that George is good to her, because he “can keep learning the games we play as quickly as I can change them.” The play starts in darkness but ends at dawn, with George forcing his wife to face the reality of their childless marriage. When members of an audience see a play or watch a movie, they suspend disbelief, fool themselves into believing that what they observe is real, so they can have that Aristotelian purgation of pity and fear, or just escape into an entertaining story. At the conclusion of the show, they reenter into reality’s atmosphere. Martha had not been able to pull herself back from the land of make believe until now. She is on the scary terrain of the self-aware adult. So, when George repeats the silly academic version of the child’s song sung at the party, “Who’s afraid of Virginia Woolf?” she answers, “I am George, I am.”

Next week’s film is The Ides of March.