A quick search of "sex symbol" might show you Rudolph Valentino, Ramon Novarro, and Sessue Hayakawa as representations of the term for early Hollywood - their respective iconographies suggestive of men who, while undoubtably handsome, were also noble, chivalrous, clean-cut. The same applies for the likes of a young Cary Grant, Gary Cooper and Clark Gable - these are men who are emblems of an old-fashioned "masculine" ideal - good looking, debonair, a smidge cocksure. Enter Marlon Brando in A Streetcar Named Desire - vulgar, villainous, biceps bulging out of his tight, sweaty undershirts - to screw shit up a bit.
Before 1951, was there another male actor to have been so wantonly sexualized by the camera in a performance? Another male actor to have smoldered the way Brando did, to have aroused the viewer's senses the way he did? Whereas all male sex symbols had previously actors who drove female fans wild - I'd wager Brando in Streetcar was different by virtue of his own overt sexuality. I'm not sure just how cognizant Brando was of his own beauty and sexuality - but it is that beauty, that "sexiness," and that virile energy he so naturally exudes that makes this performance so game changing. This is a man who encourages you to lend him your gaze, a man who is flaunting himself such that he stirs with your lust.
Described by Tennessee Williams as being "just about the best-looking young man" he had ever seen, Brando, like Montgomery Clift, has stunning good looks to accompany an intense dramatic ability. Having wowed Broadway audiences for some time ahead of Streetcar the film, Stanley Kowalski is an introduction to the masses of a much more visceral and emotive approach to screen acting. Through Stanley, Brando is a deviation from what it generally meant to be a masculine figure in film - that is, he bears his emotions uninhibitedly and unattractively during a time when no male actors did such a thing.
To watch Brando in Streetcar is to witness an actor etch out a characterization that is uniquely his and definitively "Stanley." His mix of raw and sexual intensity is, interestingly enough, not present in the text of the play. Stanley doesn't "pop" from the text the way Brando does on the screen; I didn't find Stanley to have been written as overtly compelling. It's amazing, and a testament to Brando's talent, just how much life and bravado he brings to the written character. It's no wonder Jessica Tandy was pissed that Brando/Stanley stirred audiences so much when they both played Streetcar on stage.
There's a reason why the New York Times once questioned whether the role could be properly played by another actor. His is an interpretation which simply sears into the mind. There is a confidence, a sense of total familiarity that Brando has with the character, as though it fits him like a glove, as though he is Stanley in every expression he makes and every word he speaks (even though Brando notably hated the character). Any other interpretation of the part (see: Treat Williams, Alec Baldwin) only forces you to realize what is lacking from the original Brando formula.
Every note Brando plays seems to ring perfectly. His rage startles in how sudden, intense and relentless it can be. His poignancy is repentant and tender. His accent and his method style of slurring his lines - at times too quick and unintelligible - lends perfectly to "common'" "Polak" Stanley (my main criticism of Treat Williams and Alec Baldwin would be that their respective Stanleys seem too haughty and intelligent). Rein that in with his carnal sexuality and it makes for perplexed sentiments for the viewer.
Through and through, this is a performance that is undoubtably Brando's - in power and in distinction. One wonders how different the performance may have been had Elia Kazan not made the decision too deemphasize Stanley in favor of Blanche in the film adaptation. There's additional b-roll in Censorship and Desire which shows Brando's face as he utters to Blanche, "you've got plenty of room to get by me now" - you see the commanding, erotic glower to his face, and it packs a punch. He frightens you - and probably turns you on just a little a bit - and it's quite unlike anything we've seen from a male actor before.
I think Brando is terrific in this part. My issue, though, is that it's a one dimensional character. All that you ascribe to Brando is there right from the start and it's visceral and evident from start to finish. His presence makes Stanley a force of nature, but it's really Brando and not Stanley we're in thrall to. He was that kind of actor.
ReplyDeleteI think he's great here, but he'd be even better later on when he had roles with much more to play. Still, he was part of a group of actors (Clift was another one) who brought a more intrinsic, less presentational style of acting to the screen (director Elia Kazan played no small part in this,either). Brando's good in 'Streetcar' but the best was yet to come.
I had the same feeling initially, but keying into his performance a bit more, I found it to be really quite special. I don't know that I agree with your assessment on it being Brando and not Stanley that we're drawn to - that is true to an extent, but it's a very distinct characterization, so much so that we come to merge/associate actor+character.
DeleteGreat review of this amazing work.
ReplyDeleteHow did you feeling about Hunter and Malden?
I loved Hunter - I thought she was fantastic. Definitely one of the highlights of the category. It's a shame she was blacklisted shortly after her win. Malden was great too, not as flashy as the other principal characters, but he's potent and crucial in his part.
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