Of course this film is based on a play by Tennessee Williams so it is in no way it’s own unique story, however, cinema’s greatest coward Elia Kazan directs the film in such a fashion that it is nearly 100% character driven, which allows for incredible personality exploration. This device is really what makes the film work as well as it does considering the plot, when taken at face value, is pretty minimal. A southern debutante Blanche DuBois (Vivian Leigh) falls from grace and moves to New Orleans to live in a cramped apartment with her sister Stella and the contemptible Stanley, with whom she soon learns she does not get along… and that’s pretty much it really. But the incredible performances and the gutsy subject matter turn a pretty ho-hum plot into an impressive masterpiece and a psychiatric quality study in personalities.
The opening scene of Blanche’s arrival in the French Quarter is one of many to come depicting confinement both literally and metaphorically. Before we even see the inside of the apartment building it is already evident how cramped and confined the main characters’ lives are going to turn out. The fenced-in courtyard where other residents of the complex congregate is unbelievably small, definitely too small for all the people there, which is an underlying theme of the entire picture.
Blanche and Stella have their first on-screen conversation at a nearby bowling alley where it is revealed that Blanche used to be a schoolteacher but is on some sort of sabbatical which she claims is to recover from stress, though her unwillingness to look directly at Stella throughout the conversation as well as her symbolically being shrouded in shadows indicates there is more to the story; this lighting technique will also be recurring FYI.
Later in the evening Blanche explains to Stella the circumstances surrounding the loss of the family estate Belle Reve but the real focus of these scenes are the understated shots of the almost comically tiny apartment. As the camera tries to follow them around the space we see curtains in the place of doors, pieces of furniture littered with clothing and a general state of disrepair. All the while it is painfully obvious that this arrangement is not going to work out.
The first encounter between Stanley and Blanche is built up wonderfully with Stella making several implications as to his brutish nature and Blanche repeatedly expressing concern over Stanley’s comfort level with her staying with the Kowalskis. He is shown as an almost stereotypically blue-collar male; drinking beer, wearing a wife beater and generally speaking with no tact. He is suspicious of Blanche from the outset and likes to constantly make references to people he knows in various walks of life like law and real estate. He also misogynistically refers to Napoleonic Law (a man’s right to pry into his wife’s affairs) and is often seen carnivorously eating meat, frequently off the bone. All of these aspects of his character make it totally obvious as to what kind of person he is going to be. Despite a classic scene where Stanley and Stella fight and he cries out to her from the building’s courtyard he never comes across as romantic or passionate, instead he just seems like a Neanderthal.
”I never met a dame yet that didn't know if she was good-looking or not without being told, and there's some of them that give themselves credit for more than they've got” (Stanley Kowalski, ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’)
Blanche desperately tries to keep the illusion going that she is a proper Southern woman but the details of her checkered past that emerge along the way reveal that she is nothing like she perceives herself or assumes people do her. In fact the only one who really sees her in any way that resembles the sophisticated lady she believes she is is Mitch (Karl Malden), a friend of Stanley’s from work. He pursues her endlessly despite her hot and cold attention to his affections, exploiting him solely to inflate her self-worth. A memorable scene where the two go on a date and take a walk along the pier still maintains the feel of entrapment as they are still confined to the railing along the dock. Blanche opens up to Mitch about her previous husband’s suicide- yet another piece to the disturbing puzzle that comprises Blanche’s personality. The conversation on the dock also illustrates another example of Blanche always insisting on being in poorly lit settings in an effort to hide her fading looks.
Meanwhile a vengeful Stanley, angry at Blanche for her attempts to convince Stella to leave the abusive relationship, airs all her dirty laundry at once: she lost the family home to foreclosure, she spent some time as a prostitute and worst of all she lost her job as a teacher after having slept with one of her students in a disturbing Mary Kay Letourneau scenario. Blanche finally has a complete nervous breakdown and retreats into a world that is buoyed by her lies- delusions of Belle Reve, millionaire suitors and the glamorous lifestyle she alleges to have led back home.
With Stella in the hospital delivering her and Stanley’s baby, the hostility between the two boils over and a shouting match devolves into physical conflict ending with Stanley seemingly raping Stella- broken glass in a vanity mirror reflects a distorted image of what is occurring in the scene. The broken mirror also represents Blanche’s state of mind- it is finally irreparably destroyed.
The film ends with a very rare combination of dark and inspiring. Blanche is taken to an insane asylum, all the while saying (and possibly believing in her mind) that she is taking a trip with a Texas millionaire. She delivers the character encompassing line “I’ve always depended on the kindness of strangers” which not only finally serves as an admission of her own helplessness and mooching nature but sums up her personality perfectly. We are left with no real feelings of sympathy or love for Stanley or Blanche, but Stella has remained the true “protagonist” in that we are always pulling for her and she has the worst set of circumstances to overcome- which she defiantly does by walking out on Stanley in the final scene. He yells after her like he has done in the past but this time it is to no avail as Stella clearly leaves him for good as the credits roll.
It is hard to pull off any kind of transition from play-to-movie without the risk of corny overacting, and yes, Brando and Leigh particularly DO overact in this film, but it is not too over the top. Somehow it ends up working and luckily taking some of the edge off the uncomfortable subject matter. Less theatrical acting would have just made the film a little too real, gritty and disturbing.
And I would have ended up hating it because it would have reminded me too much of that batshit crazy bitch I used to date.
No comments:
Post a Comment