Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

Based on the Pulitzer Prize winning play by Tennessee Williams, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof examines the relationships and lies in a Southern family.  Brick (Paul Newman) is an ex-football player who drinks too much and has recently broken his leg in a drunken attempt to relive his days as an athlete.  His wife, Maggie (Elizabeth Taylor) knows the reason he drinks is guilt over a friend’s death.  The couple has not been intimate in a long time, while Brick’s older brother Gooper (Jack Carson) has five unruly children and another on the way.  Gooper’s wife, Mae (Madeleine Sherwood), is the ugliest little lady you can find in the south, but at least she’s fertile.  She lords it over the lovely Maggie and uses her pack of “no-neck monsters” to try to win over the favor, and inheritance, of her father-in-law, Big Daddy (Burl Ives).

Everyone is gathering at the plantation to celebrate Big Daddy’s sixty-fifth birthday.  The doctor has just lied to him that his cancer is cured, but the reality is that he doesn’t have much time left.  Still, all the family celebrates, except Brick who drinks alone upstairs, solemnly thinking about all the mendacity.  Big Daddy wants to leave the land to Brick, his favorite son, but first needs to confront his drinking problem.  When Brick accidentally lets it slip that his father is near death, Big Daddy has even more reason to try to patch things up with his son.

The great thing about this film is that there is tension between everything and no one is left out.  There’s Brick’s excessive drinking, leaving land to the drunk son rather than the first born with a family, Big Daddy’s death creeping closer, an unhappy childless marriage, guilt over a dead friend, Gooper’s unfulfilled need to please his father and those damn kids that everyone hates.  Most of the film is simply conversations, but they’re so fueled and blazing with all these problems, every word is important.  And when a new problem comes up, or a lie is found out, it’s like gas on the fire.

One thing I could not ignore is how horrible those bratty little kids of Gooper and Mae’s are.  They’re enough to make the calm and collected Maggie absolutely lose it, multiple times.  At one point, one of them sneaks into the room she and Brick are in and blow a shrieking whistle right behind her.  If all this fighting going on isn’t enough for your nerves, that whistle, and the other stunts those kids pull, can break them.

When the film came out, Tennessee Williams hated it.  In fact, he would tell people waiting in line for the movie, “This movie will set the industry back fifty years. Go home!”  The film had to change details in the play, including all references to homosexuality, a major theme in the play.  It was also the first film based on his work to be in color, which may have depleted the intended artistic tone.  But the studio wanted to make sure their audience could see Newman’s baby blue eyes.  What a priority.

Until I realized how disappointed Williams was with this film, I was leaning towards declaring it my personal Best Picture of 1958.  Plays by Williams are some of my favorite to read, but alas, I have not read Cat on a Hot Tin Roof yet, but now I absolutely have to.  For now, I have to agree with Williams, if someone cut out a major theme in my work, dolled it up with pretty colors when it’s supposed to be more bleak, I’d be angry too.

“There ain’t nothin’ more powerful than the odor of mendacity!”

Cleopatra

An entire clear sky afternoon was wasted on this four hour flop, but that’s my job right now.  By the third hour I was literally yelling horrible things at the film, trying to get it to hurry up.  I knew my history and it ended just like I knew it would.

The next day, with my head less full of rage, I wondered if I was the only one who despised the film.  This was supposed to be a classic epic right?  With my ruthless review finished, I went to Cleopatra‘s IMDB page and read the posts under it’s board.  Most of the comments ripped Cleo a new one and I have to share my favorites: “Perfectly awful film. Gorgeous photography wasted on a dull, dull script full of exposition without any sense of movement or pace”  “a shining example of how the road to hell is paved with good intentions”  “It’s amazing what people would sit through in 1963.” and “”a lot better to watch whilst high.”

The constant thought going through my head (before the rage became overwhelming) was, “Is this trying to out do Ben Hur?”  The sets are beautiful and larger than life and that crazy parade for when Cleopatra enters Rome was jaw dropping, but I always had that thought.  Soon, everything felt so pompous, the acting started to swell and stink like road kill and Taylor stared with her huge eye shadow more and more and I started yelling, “This is a terrible attempt at one-upping Ben Hur!”  I believe it was around the naval battle that I snapped into a raving fit.  This has only happened to me during one other film, Howard the Duck, and I feel terrible relating Cleopatra to that film now.

Like a mannequin, she has more costumes than facial expressions.

Cleopatra breaks one of the main rules of storytelling: show, don’t tell.  We hear from the Romans how grand Cleopatra is, she’s smart, can speak seven languages, thinks of herself as a living goddess and has beauty to match.  The greatest thing Taylor shows off about Cleopatra is her skin.  There is just enough skin and cleavage to make this pretty risqué in ‘63.  Apart from Cleopatra’s sexual hold over men, she doesn’t seem so powerful.  Her eye shadow looks like it could put up a better fight.  Most of Taylor’s acting consists of standing like a mannequin and staring, sometimes an angry twitch is thrown in.

I was honestly disappointed to see that Taylor couldn’t make Cleopatra pop out of history any more than a hieroglyphic off a tomb.  Growing up, I went through an Egypt phase, where mummies, pyramids and ancient history was suddenly cool, and Cleopatra was Queen of the Nile and an idol.  Where was her strength, intelligence and power?  Taylor made Cleopatra no more than a dark haired Barbie doll.  Just a harlot with only the power to be an enticing dessert for the pent up rulers of Rome.

The one actor I truly enjoyed was Rex Harrison as Julius Caesar.  Harrison rises to the challenge of portraying an eloquent, smart, intriguing Roman ruler.  He truly feels larger than life and human at the same time.  He made the first half of the film so much more bearable, and Richard Burton just couldn’t hold up that last grueling half by himself.

I understand why this film can be 4 hours long, there’s a lot of substance here and it can feel like a crime to leave one piece of history out, but, come on.  How many people in 63 were really riveted by this all two-hundred forty-three minutes?  Today, there’s so much ADD out there that for people to sit through an epic over three hours it has to be full of explosions, giant blue people and in 3-D.  This really does feel like ancient history at times.  Unless you are a big fan of ancient history, classic epics or any of the actors and want to make a big party out of his four hour epic, I would honestly suggest watching it in two separate sittings, part one and two.

Even better, just watch DeMille’s 1934 Cleopatra instead.

On a less serious note, I would like to see this remade in a way that makes Cleo one badass lady.  Like Samuel L. Jackson as a chick.  And less than two hours long, if you please.  The guys who made 300 could put a good spin on this.  May I suggest casting Tyra Banks as Cleopatra?  And then she can star in a remake of Attack of the Fifty Foot Woman, a role I always felt Banks was born to play.

 

Giant

Third generation cattle rancher Bick Benedict (Rock Hudson) visits Maryland in the 1920’s to buy a prized horse and leaves with a wife as well.  Within two days Leslie (Elizabeth Taylor) falls all over Bick and his big Texas ideals, though she’s an independent minded woman.  The wide open opportunities of Texas seem romantic to Leslie, and having a wealthy rancher on her arm is a good idea.

But once they’ve arrived at a huge house in the middle of dusty nowhere, Bick expects Leslie to up and change instantly: “You’re a Texan now.  You’re a Benedict now.”  Oh, it’s going to be a daily struggle for a smart Eastern girl in Texas.  Between the racism against Mexicans and blatant sexism the big ranching men constantly spew, Leslie’s got to change a few things around here somehow.

Soon Leslie meets Jett Rink (James Dean), the young poor cowboy looking for a way out of Texas and all it’s poor islolation.  When he’s left a piece of land, suddenly Jett is busting with pride and has something to show for himself.  He works hard to make an oil well and eventually strikes it rich.  Later, Bick and his children have to deal with Jett, the oil tycoon.

So yes, Bick and Leslie have three children, a boy and two girls.  Bick plans on giving his ranch to his son, just as his father and grandfather did, but even at an early age the boy doesn’t want anything to do with ranching.  He’d rather be a doctor and work alongside a Mexican.  Of course, Leslie encourages her son and Bick feels like generations of his family’s work are being undone.

Let’s break this down into the one reason to see this movie: James Dean.  Though he’s just a minor character, he steals the show.  And he’s the one person we want to identify with from the start; he’s young, poor, very cool and dreams of something more.  As his role progresses to an aging oil tycoon, Dean’s performance only gets better.  This was also Dean’s final role, before the film was even out of production, he was killed in a car crash.

Sadly, Giant is just a long boring film about this Texas family and the change from one generation to another.  The sexism theme is not strong enough to hold any weight here, mostly because I couldn’t believe that a real independently minded woman (in the 1920’s or otherwise) would just marry some rich and ignorant guy that showed up at her daddy’s house within two days.  Argue with me if you want, Leslie is a terrible character from the start.

Sigh, let’s end this on a better note.  James Dean everyone:

“I’m rich, Bick. I’m a rich ‘un. I’m a rich boy. Me, I’m gonna have more money than you ever thought you could have — you and all the rest of you stinkin’ sons of … Benedicts!”

A Place in the Sun

When George Eastman (Montgomery Clift) arrives in town, he doesn’t seem to have much compared to his rich uncle who owns a large factory.  The whole Eastman family seems very high class compared to simple young George.  His uncle gives him a job in the factory and as his cousin goes over a few rules one seems extra important: don’t get involved with any of the women.  All the Eastman men should keep a respectable business distance with the working class so they can be more social at their high class parties.

Well, poor George seems a little lonely at the end of his conveyor belt and doesn’t get out much.  When he runs into a coworker at the movies, Alice (Shelley Winters), they hit it off real quick.  Maybe it’s the forbidden fruit idea, maybe it’s the loneliness, but George and Alice start dating, knowing that they can’t let anyone at work know or they’ll both be fired.

Just when things have heated up with Alice, George is finally invited to one of his uncles fancy parties.  But George isn’t all that social, so he sneaks off to the pool table and meets Angela (Elizabeth Taylor).  She’s young, flirty, much more exciting and prettier than dull old Alice.  Besides, she’s within the approved circle of dating for George.  So they have a romantic evening of dancing that goes on later than George meant to.  Of course, this party conflicts with a special dinner Alice has prepared where she breaks shocking news to George: she’s pregnant.

Well sucks to be George.  How can he support Alice and still keep up appearances with Angela?  Sooner or later he’ll have to chose which girl to stay with but how can he get rid of the other?  It’s exciting to watch George live a double life for a while and when his decision is made, watching him deal with the consequences, well let’s just say there are a lot of consequences.

There are some great suspenseful moments in the second half of the film.  We hold our breath at times when George’s entire family is just inches away from learning about Alice.  The rowboat scene is a great nail-biter that keeps you guessing until the end.

The film tries to milk the secret remorse as long as it can.  George must suffer on his own while his mind won’t let go of what he’s done.  Though I sincerely enjoyed the film, it’s more tragic than entertaining.  The whole film feels like it finds more and more opportunities to rake George over some hot coals.  After a while, that lost its pizzazz.

“You’re an Eastman and expected to act accordingly.”

Ivanhoe

First, let’s talk about Robin Hood.  He’s the guy in green tights that takes money from the rich, gives it to the poor, has some merry men in the woods, is all chivalrous, great archer, loves a fair maiden and has some beef with Prince John.  Ivanhoe is just a few details away from being Robin Hood.

Ivanhoe (Robert Taylor) is a knight returning from the Crusades where Richard the Lionheart (the rightful king of England) is being held for ransom in Austria.  Ivanhoe’s father has kinda disowned him, a girl, Rowena (Joan Fontaine) (who I honestly thought was his sister for a while) is in love with him and Big-I tries to pull money together to free Richard.  He turns to a Jewish banker to help raise the money and competes in a jousting tournament anonymously.  He dominates but gets injured, because jousting is pretty dangerous. As he’s laid up, he gets word that Prince John’s men are looking for him.  So he and his Jewish friends hide for a while and turn to his father for help, but are captured. Don’t worry, Ivanhoe has a lot of friends who are willing to storm a castle and create some fun action scenes.

So, to make Ivanhoe a full blown Robin Hood we just need to think of the Jewish banker as rich, King Richard as poor and substitute jousting for archery.  Don’t worry, he wears green tights for a while.

Ivanhoe is also a ladies man.  There seems to be a cat fight brewing between iHoe’s best girl, Rowena and the generous Jewish girl who tends to his jousting wounds, Rebecca (Elizabeth Taylor).  There is tension, they say they’re jealous of each other in that well-mannered damsel way but there was never anything to worry about, Ivanhoe’s far too chivalrous to be tempted by a new pretty girl.

The main problem is that Robert Taylor brings no presence to Ivanhoe.  He simply does things, says things and doesn’t make me care.  I wanted him to jump off screen and show me that he isn’t a Robin Hood knock-off, but that never happens.   Perhaps when he agreed to the green tight costume for the sword fight/escape scene, he knew it was too late.

The battle scenes are the best parts of the film.  My favorite little moments are when the plans are quickly discussed in the middle of battle.  We know all this crazy action is going on all around them, but two men just kinda stop and talk very calm and quick about it with no emotion at all.  It felt way too stiff, unnatural and laughable.  Really, I found it very funny, one moment swords are clanging all over and the next these two just stop.

The film is a nice little spectacle, with it’s greatest moments being in medieval battle of all sorts but in the end it’s not that satisfying.  I won’t give away the ending, but I found myself saying, “Really?  It’s just going to end like that?”  It’s just, maybe I wanted more, not more movie, but a real ending.

Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?  Huh, sounds like a dare.  When this film first came to theaters, it was accompanied by the MPAA tag: “No one under 18 will be admitted unless accompanied by his parent.”  That make is a double-dog dare, but really, it’s triple and for the big kids only.

Late one evening on a New England campus, middle aged professor George (Richard Burton) and his wife Martha (Elizabeth Taylor) invite a young couple over for drinks.  As the booze flows, the conversations turn to ugly, dark secrets within each couples lives, like a booze ridden Mad Hatter’s tea party.  Basically, George and Martha use their guests as fuel and audience to rip apart their dirty secrets that only bring pain.

Now, George and Martha aren’t your typical couple who lob a few softballs when dinner’s a little overdone or pick and bitter just for entertainment.  Their language is course, ruthless, and brutal.  Every other sentence between them can arguably be emotional abuse.  With George’s professor intellect eloquently flowing out of his mouth, his verbals slaps to Martha are engaging and often poetic.  Martha is more gruff and straightforward, as she describes herself, “I’m loud and I’m vulgar, and I wear the pants in the house because somebody’s got to.”  There’s more on Martha’s agenda tonight than a fight, after all, it seems she invited the couple.

Nick (George Segal) and Honey (Sandy Dennis) are the young, unsuspecting couple.  Nick is a handsome, well built and smart man, while Honey is, well, are you familiar with the term butterface?  Actually, it’s not just her face, it’s everything.  She’s sickly skinny, talks like she didn’t pass the third grade and her eyes carry all the inner beauty of a rodent.  And when she’s drunk, she’s sloshed and vomits often.  Those beady eyes can hardly stay open.  She made me think a twelve year old walked onto the set and got into the brandy.  So yeah, I think Dennis deserved the best supporting actress win, especially with the lines like,”No, if I can’t do my interpretive dance I don’t want to dance at all, I’ll just sit here.” And my personal favorite: “Hump the hostess!”

It seems George becomes master of ceremonies and uses the other three like puppets.  When Nick and Honey want to leave, he banters and says the night has just begun.  He shares stories with Nick and Nick shares in return, only for those private moments to be used against him later.  “And that’s how you play get the guests,” George explains.  In the final act, George’s last little game, oh, what a riveting climax, I cannot even allude to it.  I will say that I found myself standing in front of my television, hands over my mouth unable to pull away as my mind made the necessary connections that I could hardly believe.  I don’t even remember the last time a movie made me do that, it was amazing.

Of course, I’m odd like that.  Now, who would enjoy this movie as much as I did?  I don’t know, I think it takes some real love for dialogue, mental stamina, and a very open mind.  If you get some laughs out of this film, they’re probably not good natured, unless you find the term “monkey boobs” hilarious.  Some people won’t know how to handle the mental anguish you witness in the film.  The bottom line is these people are messed up and you’re going to find out more than you really want to about them, and oh, that last scene is a shocker.  The real question is not Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? but Who Can Handle Virginia Woolf?