monday, july 21, 2008
On the Waterfront
Watching Elia Kazan's masterpiece On the Waterfront for the first time is to behold a film with which one is already intimately familiar. It's pacing, setting and tone have been copied and referenced so often it is now part of how we conduct discourse about the medium.To put it simply, if you make a crime film you have to respond to the gauntlet thrown down by Kazan and Marlon Brando in 1954. And the parts of the film that pack the most power have long lapsed into the realm of cliche, making approaching them on their own terms a tough proposition.
Moreover, there is the inescapable backstory of director's Kazan's controversial testimony before the House Committee on Un-American Activities (HUAC). The director's act of "naming names" of movie industry players who had connections with the Communist part cannot be separated from the work.
On the Waterfront is the story of a snitch and how there is nobility in the plight of the stool pigeon. It is an adaptation of the Pulitzer Prize-winning work of New York Sun reporter Malcolm Johnson exposing the working of corrupt unions on the docks of New Jersey and New York.
The story subtly sets up the slow and methodical path of good intentions that leads to the logic behind a corrupt mob. The gang led by union boss Johnny Friendly (Lee J. Cobb) has scraped and clawed their way to the top and is determined to get their cut now they are there.
"Why shouldn't we," asks Charley Malloy (Rod Steiger). And that's the rub for his young brother, Terry. A washed-up prizefighter, Terry now picks up odd jobs from the dockside mob and diverts himself with his carrier pigeons on the rooftops. He's not the brightest bulb in the box, but he's not without depth either.
There is a recurring analogy of this little world being a jungle - Father Berry (Karl Malden) even says it straight out at one point. Johnny Friendly is the leader of this wild kingdom and he lords over it like a brooding lion.
 |
Which raises an interesting question of the homosexual overtones in the film. Brando's roles are so sexually charged from the get-go that it's an interpretation that almost has to be addressed in any appraisal of his work. But here it seems less a question of sexual interest establishing who is the dominant male in the pack.
For the rest of the film these two snarl and lung at each other and narrative is a faithful following of their paths as they approach their inevtiable clash. Acting-wise it's a fantastic top card - the young vibrant Brando against the experience and power of Cobb but for the audience to be invested there has to be an investment in both of them and Kazan carfully makes sure to address that in his methodical manner.
It's telling that it takes a woman intruding on this all male group to really awaken Malloy to what his situation actually is. He's been content to be a bum - aimless and without responsibility - but Edie awakens something else inside of him. He sees where he could create something and have a life of worth rather than simply "taking his share" like the rest of Friendly's gang.
The courtship is difficult and uncomfortable for both. Malloy is a man used to actions not emotions and Doyle is very aware she is completely out of her environment among the dockside toughs and turmoil of New Jersey. It's a counterpoint to the main drama that the actors pull off brilliantly.
One of the best moments is the odd walk in the park where Malloy is idly talking about anything to keep Doyle's interest and she, in turn, is more preoccupied with her own sense of discomfort. It's beautifully summarized with him picking up her glove and playing with it while she tries to muster the courage to ask for it back.
It was, supposedly, an unplanned element that happened by chance in rehearsal and Kazan insisted be included in the final take. And rightly so. It clearly shows the distance the two will have to traverse to reach each other and the struggle it will entail.
 |
Brando's pitch perfect performance carries this even further by giving Malloy that casual physical grace of a prize fighter. He moves in curt graceful swoops and cuts and there is always a tension there as he seems to want to express that raw physical power inside of him.
Morally, he's exactly the same. There is an ethical base to relatively simple-minded Malloy that his compatriots have lost through constant
As Malloy tries to find the right path Kazan places him in narrow hallways and closed corridors. There is a sense of claustrophobia to these scenes but also a sense of inevitability and purpose. Malloy only has one option but the crux of the film is him coming to realize it rather than the actual going through with it.
This is where the film dovetails with Kazan's own plight. His argument is that his testimony before the HUAC panel was something he was not only correct but that he was obligated to do. Malloy's redemption by going through with the testimony against his boss is inevitable due to his underlying honesty and Kazan wishes to suggest his situation is similar.
If that's a valid analogy is beyond the scope of this discussion but it certainly is a view of the film that must be taken into account. What these scenes more effectively demonstrate is a culmination of two opposing forces in acting realized both in Brando's powerful performance and Kazan's masterful direction.
Until the 1950s there was a paradigm in acting that put emphasis on control as the guiding principle of stagecraft. The onset of Stanislavsky's emphasis on inner passion - commonly referred to as "method acting" - had begun turning that approach on its head.
 |
And of course, he had the ace of Brando to accomplish it. In On the Waterfront, Brando prowls the film with his coiled power filling the corners and passageways created for him by the director.
Viewed looking back through his lifetime of strange peculiarities, petty manner and, well, the fact he got fat, makes On the Waterfront all the more powerful. This is not the brooding, petulant beast we've come to know - this is a revelation. Looking back today the film and the actor both suffer due to the excesses of their shared legacy.
The film actor," Brady explained. "Does not so much perform a role as he creates a kind of life, playing between his characterization of a particular film and his potential escape from that character, outside the film and perhaps into other films."
Certainly this had been seen before in the star "system" of the studios but Brando's fanatical focus on the internal as a way to transmit power into a performance emphasized this tendency to the nth degree. Eventually, it wasn't possible to divorce the role from the actor at all, and the films he starred in were defined by his presence - not the other way around.
The famed taxicab scene where Terry and Charley finally confront each other is justifiably famous for its sheer power and nuance. The fact that it has become cliché doesn't diffuse its power a whit. And what is amazing is that it's not only a watershed for the characters but also for the subtle way it paints in the depth of their relationship.
The realization that it was his brother who destroyed his chances at being a success is clearly an epiphany for Terry but it's not delivered with spite. He knows Charley was trying to look out for him and made the wrong decision and there is a level of empathy there that shows it.
 |
There is an overwhelming amount of religious imagery in the film both overt and covert. Father Berry stands as a clear moral voice although he's grounded enough to connect with his flock. His casual vices are an aspect of his virtues not in contrast to them. It's a role of a lifetime and Malden seizes like he knows it.
This is less the story of a messiah who will save those who adore him but rather a depiction of the passion, a man who suffers for the sake of the sins. The catharsis will come but the hero must suffer and suffer terribly for it to come to pass. So when the expected moment of redemption comes, it isn't the dramatic climax to the film.
Malloy's testimony before the crime commission strikes back at his former boss in a way that hurts him grievously but it doesn't end the process of redemption for the character. With the testimony, the die is cast but the final - and true - act has yet to be committed. Malloy's final act has to be to confront the king of this sordid jungle.
Kazan is very clear in how he sets this crucial scene. It is upon the rooftop again and the pigeons he has turned to for solace for so long have been taken in a child's act of revenge. For the first time Kazan sets the scene inside the pigeon-cage and we see Malloy immediately - not through the wire mesh.
 |
Throughout On the Waterfront Brando has shown Malloy looking idly at objects as he labors in thought. It's the hallmark of the "glove" scene and repeats in a subtle manner throughout the course of the narrative. Here though, he's not mulling things over any longer. It is at this moment, when he and the viewer are one, that he makes a decision.
He then grasps his loading hook, stands and goes down to the dock to confront his adversary.
more: 52 films 26 books | Movies
| add a comment |