by Elia Kazan
Starring:
Marlon Brando as Terry Malloy
Eva Marie Saint as Edie Doyle
Karl Malden as Father Barry
Lee J. Cobb as Johnny Friendly
Rod Steiger as Charley Malloy
A now-little-seen black-and-white social drama, Elia Kazan and Budd Schulberg’s tale of labour relations on the New Jersey docks circa 1954 is not a romance, but it has at its centre a love story that is so real and so beautifully evoked in only a few scenes it‚s bound to tear at your heart. Plus it’s performed by surely the greatest film actor of all time in his prime (long before he became the size of a small semi-detached house) and an actress who is not only luminously lovely but also sadly underrated IMHO. The chemistry between them in this movie is raw and provocative and poignant and so powerful that their love story is as fresh and real now as it was over half a century ago. And those are just a few reasons why it is my favourite film of all time.
Now, as it happens, it’s the love story in this movie that resonates so beautifully for me, so I’m going to dwell on that and not the rest of the movie—although that’s pretty spectacular, too. Anyone ever heard of Brando’s ‘I coulda been a contenda’ speech? That comes from this multi-Oscar-winner.
So let’s do a quick plot recap. The setting is the New Jersey docks in the 1950s, where the longshoremen’s union is controlled by corrupt thug Johnny Friendly and his right-hand man, Charlie the Gent. Charlie’s younger brother Terry (a thirty-something has-been ex-boxer) has been inadvertently involved in the killing of Joey, one of the longshoremen who was threatening to ‘squeal’ to the crime commission. Terry feels bad about it, but that’s life on the docks. He’s not about to rat out his brother. Until he meets Joey’s distraught sister Edie….
The drama that follows is about Terry’s battle with his conscience, and the harsh life of America’s dockworkers…. It’s social realism through and through, with a cast full of brilliant method actors, a wonderfully understated script by Budd Schulberg, and haunting black-and-white photography. But it’s the developing relationship between Edie and Terry that drives the story and is the heart and soul of the whole movie.
Take their first meeting, when the rough and inarticulate Terry tugs on Edie’s glove and sits on a kids’ swing while chatting to her with offhand bravado about his miserable childhood—Edie responds with quiet class and what Terry sees as a kooky naiveté. But Edie’s attitude isn’t really naiveté at all— it’s the simple belief that if people are loved they can rise above their circumstances….
Cut to the scene in a dingy neighbourhood bar where Terry (not knowing what to do with a nice girl) takes Edie on a sort of date and proceeds to ply her with drink:
Edie says, a little drunk, ‘Shouldn’t everyone care about everyone else?’
And Terry replies, ‘Boy, what a fruitcake you are.’
But as he says it, the tender astonishment in Terry’s eyes shows he’s already falling in love with this girl who’s sweet and innocent, but has the strength of character to rise above the roughness of slum life rather than be beaten down by it as Terry has been.
Always lurking in the background as they are becoming more attached to each other is the terrible truth about Terry’s involvement in Edie’s brother’s murder. The powerful, intensely dramatic and heartbreaking moment when Terry finally confesses his part in Joey’s murder, we don’t hear Terry’s words—they’re drowned out by a ship’s blaring horn—but we see Edie’s face, going from love to horror….
And then the wildly passionate scene when Terry breaks into Edie’s apartment and they kiss… It’s raw, it’s emotional, it’s desperate, as Terry, unable to voice how he feels, shows Edie the only way he knows how. And she submits, because despite Terry’s guilt, despite the bad things he’s done, she can see the good man he wants to be. Phwoar! I defy anyone not to be blown away by that kiss.
Okay, so this movie may be a little too intense and dramatic for a Girls’ Night In, but it’s definitely worth a peek if you like your romance occasionally raw and realistic and heartbreakingly honest. Plus Brando is beyond gorgeous in this movie—all rough, ready and raw, with inarticulate, pure animal magnetism (just think Tom Hardy without the tattoos, basically).
The Long, Hot Summer (1958): When Paul Met Joanne…
Directed by Martin Ritt
Starring:
Paul Newman as Ben Quick
Joanne Woodward as Clara Varner
Orson Welles as Will Varner
Anthony Franciosa as Jody Varner
Lee Remick as Eula Varner
Angela Lansbury as Minnie Littlejohn
Okay, I’m going to ask you to indulge me a little bit with this sultry, sparky, smoulderingly sexy 1950s romance—because The Long, Hot Summer is very close to my heart. Simply put, it’s the film that turned me on to the wonders of bad boys and romance and the fabulousness of Paul Newman at the impressionable age of thirteen, when I first saw it at the National Film Theatre (an art-house cinema showing old movies on London’s South Bank) during one long-ago long, hot summer (appropriately).
Now, Mr Newman was an incredibly gorgeous man—sonnets could have been written about those chiselled cheekbones, his lean muscular physique and, of course, those unfathomable blue eyes. And he’s at his moody and magnificent best in this movie. But while his looks are certainly breathtaking, that’s only a small part of the package that makes this movie worth its weight in gold to any self-respecting romance junkie (like moi).
First off, there’s the premise (very loosely based on a William Faulkner story), which is quite simply a romance author’s dream. And any author who’s ever had trouble finding that all-important conflict in a story (waves hand in the air) should take notes at this point.
As Ben Quick, a drop-dead-gorgeous drifter with a dangerous reputation, Paul is the quintessential bad boy. All smouldering sexuality, mercenary charm and devil-may-care arrogance, Ben swaggers into Clara Varner’s steamy southern town in the middle of a heatwave and immediately sets Clara’s neat and tidy life on fire after making a Faustian bargain with Clara’s dad, Will—a Big Daddy–style demagogue who’s determined to see his only daughter wedded and bedded and making babies.
Will is a self-made man (played with fabulous OTT bluster by Orson Welles), and he sees in Ben a lean, hungry wolf who’s a chip off the old block, a man who’ll do anything to live the easy life—including seduce a woman into marriage for a share of her daddy’s money.
But Clara’s a smart woman with principles; she’s wise to her father’s schemes and she’s determined not to fall for Ben. She wants refinement and intelligence in her marriage, a man with scruples and standards, a man who loves her, not just a handsome stud who can get her hormones doing the hula….
As she puts it to Ben, ‘I’ve spent my whole life around men who push and shove and shout and think they can make anything happen just by being aggressive, and I’m not anxious to have another
