As the Warner Brothers 50 Film Collection moves into a new decade, the first movie from the 1950s is another story based on a play: Tennessee Williams’ A Streetcar Named Desire (which I will refer to simply as Streetcar to signal my credibility to the readers!).
Streetcar (see?!?) directed by Real American Elia Kazan, tells a very “small” story, reflecting its stage roots. The crux of the plot is that a woman named Stella has a nutty sister (Blanche) who arrives in New Orleans to live with Stella and her abusive husband Stanley. Blanche’s past is mysterious, and her behavior is odd—she needs frequent praise for her looks, a point her sister drives home more than once. Blanche also perpetually asks questions about what people think about her. The eventual revelations about her past are interesting, but not unexpected, given her strange conduct throughout the film.
Story aside, there are problems with the dialogue. Jeepers, this dialogue. It’s more music than words, for better and for worse. The sounds portray the intensity and emotion of the scene, but nobody talks this way. Not in 2014. Not in 1951.
The lines sound exactly like what they are: Short, impactful doses of words designed to hold the attention of the couple in the last row of a playhouse. Viewed with the scrutiny of a close-up on a large screen, they get silly very quickly.
Also note that we’re still in an era of acting that favored broad, melodramatic performances. The fact that the source material is a stage production only ups that particular ante. Vivien Leigh, funny and excellent in the 30s epic Gone with the Wind, now seems a little out-of-place in the 1950s, especially acting alongside Marlon Brando.
In fact, seeing Brando and Leigh together is a bit jarring. It’s almost as if they’re acting in two different movies. Or, more properly, Leigh is acting in a melodrama from the 1940s, and Brando is delivering something close to a “modern” performance.
Brando is acting. Leigh is ACTING!
The contrast doesn’t do Leigh any favors, although she won another Best Actress Oscar for her performance.
Karl Malden and Kim Hunter swept the supporting role Oscars as well. In fact—incredibly—Marlon Brando is the only primary cast member who didn’t win an Oscar for his performance in Streetcar. Seen from a contemporary perspective, that seems quite odd. I think it’s also probably surprising for people who only know this movie from the “STELLA!!!” scene to discover that Brando easily has the most subtlety and nuance.
But, again, that’s not entirely Leigh’s fault. Some of her lines are a volcano of unnatural syllables, particularly strange to hear erupting from the mouth of a past-her-prime Mississippi schoolteacher. However, there are also moments like (to pick just one) her reaction when Brando gives her the bus ticket back home that illustrate the broad tone of Leigh’s performance.
So we noticed.
In some ways, the character Leigh plays here is where we might imagine an older Scarlett O’Hara would wind up at the same age—alone, alcoholic, missing her erstwhile beauty and lost family estate. The difference is that O’Hara, at bottom, had a resilient, capable spirit. Blanche is a mess who just gets messier over the course of two hours.
Brando is the major selling point for me. His is the first performance I’ve seen in this collection that wouldn’t have seemed bizarre 20 years later. His popularity coupled with his different approach to acting would help usher in a shift toward a more natural, realistic approach to the craft.
This is ultimately a story about two very flawed people (and one who loves and tolerates both of them). Brando is great. Leigh’s effort won her an Academy Award, but was the sort of performance whose days as Oscar-winning were numbered. Hunter and Malden fall somewhere in-between.
Streetcar was rated as one of the 100 best films in movie history by AFI. One of the 50 best, in fact. As always, there’s a risk of a disconnect watching it for the first time more than a half-century after its initial release. However, I don’t think it merits that level of acclaim.
That’s not to say it isn’t a good film. Of course it is. But I just can’t get past the unnatural stage dialogue or the antiquated performance of Leigh juxtaposed with Brando’s must-see naturalism.
Specifically, I don’t care for musicals.
Not only that, but he perpetrated those acts against then-WWE Champion and “face of the company” John Cena.
In just a few days’ time, shrewd businessman and creative genius Vince McMahon’s troupe of fairly compensated independent contractors will put on their second-biggest show of the year.
The Axis of Ego 
Thanks Again, Lawyers
I had occasion to rise at the crack of nine a few Sundays back, thanks to the unusual start time of the London-based NFL game between the Falcons and Lions. The early wake-up was significant because it meant I would sit through the normal allotment of advertising during the game. I rarely see many ads watching NFL football on Sunday thanks to the commercial-free Red Zone channel.
The 9:00 kickoff meant that Falcons / Lions was the only game on. So, I happily endured the commercials, seeing them as a small price to pay for expanding my football Sunday by yet another three hours.
Much to my bemusement, one such commercial was a spot for Sony’s Playstation entitled “Friendly Competition.” The premise is that two friends playing against one another in various video-game-related scenarios morph from one character to another as they compete across genres and titles.
It’s a pretty, well-made, and otherwise-harmless commercial that has one damning flaw.
You’ll note the fine print at the bottom saying “Dramatization. Do not attempt.”
You’ll also note the space-warrior riding futuristic, weaponized equipment.
To be clear, the thing they’re telling viewers not to attempt is to fly some kind of speeder bike that shoots lasers in an effort to combat an army of robots on an alien planet. Definitely don’t do that, everybody!
Oh, and here’s what’s happening a couple of seconds later:
That’s right—the alien robot things are firing an unknown type of advanced weaponry at the aforementioned speeder bikes (that, again, you should not be riding into battle, dear consumers). The bikes then explode (probably why you shouldn’t be riding them!), and the two friends simply decide to destroy the robots on foot.
My problem with this commercial is, of course, the annoyance of having to be told not to attempt something that is not only dangerous, not only impractical, but also literally impossible.
I shouldn’t even have to say this, but . . . there is no way that I—or anyone—could genuinely attempt to battle robots on a laser chopper because neither the robots nor the bikes exist.
Yet, companies feel the need to put these sorts of disclaimers on their advertisements because even impossible scenarios can spawn lawsuits from morons. And, naturally, in our risk-averse, safety-first society, we must kowtow to the moron demographic.
To be fair, Sony appears to have revised the commercial so that the disclaimer appears during the segment where the duo rides conventional ATVs (which do exist here on Earth!). Still, if we’re seeing these disclaimers for video game commercials, I’m wondering what the next frontier might be for such onscreen warnings. Action movies? Video games themselves? WWE? Oh, right, those already happen.
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