NFR Project: 'Marty' (1955)

 NFR Project: “Marty”

Dir: Delbert Mann

Scr: Paddy Chayefsky

Pho: Joseph LaShelle

Ed: Alan Crosland Jr.

Premiere: April 11, 1955

93 min.

Paddy Chayefsky (1923-1981) was a genius writer. Acclaimed with three Oscars, he is still considered one of America’s outstanding dramatists.

After serving in World War II, Chayefsky went to work in the new medium of television. Beginning in 1949, he cranked out scripts for what then were uniformly live broadcasts. The challenges of creating compelling drama in a studio, live, with limited resources did not daunt him. He was a master of naturalism, of “real-life” dialogue that was informal, direct, and elegant. Chayefsky reached people.

On May 24, 1953, “Marty” premiered on The Philco Television Playhouse. It starred Rod Steiger in a career-making performance, and featured Nancy Marchand as well. The broadcast made such an impact that a plan to make a movie of the script went into development immediately. It was the first time television impacted the world of moviemaking.

Chayefsky demanded creative control, consultation on casting, and the use of the broadcast director Delbert Mann as the film’s director. He got what he wanted.

Ernest Borgnine took over the role of Marty, and Betsy Blair played his date Clara. Filming took place in the Bronx for 16 days, another boost for New York City as a viable filming center. Such was the power of the result was that the film earned Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor for Borgnine, and Best Screenplay at the Oscars that year.

It’s a simple story, really. Marty is a butcher, 34 years old, still living with his mother in the Bronx, his brothers and sisters all married. It seems that everyone he runs into nags him about getting married. Marty bears this harassment patiently, until his mother questions him and he loses his temper.

He calls himself “a fat, ugly man.” He continues, “Ma, sooner or later, there comes a point in a man's life when he's gotta face some facts. And one fact I gotta face is that whatever it is that women like, I ain't got it. I chased after enough girls in my life, I went to enough dances. I got hurt enough, I don't wanna get hurt no more.”

Still, he is persuaded by his buddy Ange (Joe Mantell) to go with him to the Stardust Ballroom and look for women to pick up. He reluctantly complies. There he is accosted by a guy who wants to give him five bucks to take his date home, as he thinks she’s homely. She is Clara, 29, a sensitive single teacher. Marty declines – but he looks at Clara, goes over to her, asks her to dance.

They start talking and talk for hours. Marty takes her to his home, and briefly tries to kiss her. She rebuffs him, but she makes it very clear that she wants to see him again. Marty’s mother comes home and tries to interrogate her. Marty takes Clara home, promising to call her the next day.

The next day, he has second thoughts. His pal Ange and his mother both speak out against Clara, dismissing her and her impact on Marty. The butcher stews quietly until the early evening, when he cuts loose.

“You don't like her. My mother don't like her. She's a dog. And I'm a fat, ugly man. Well, all I know is I had a good time last night. I'm gonna have a good time tonight. If we have enough good times together, I'm gonna get down on my knees. I'm gonna beg that girl to marry me. If we make a party on New Year's, I got a date for that party. You don't like her? That's too bad.”

He goes to the pay phone to call her, and the film ends.

Borgnine, after playing villains and brutes for years, finally gets to ACT, and he does wonderful job as Marty, who is gentle, thoughtful, shy, and painfully polite. Betsy Blair was not the choice of the producers for Clara – she was a leftist, and this being the Red Scare – but, being the wife of Gene Kelly, she got her way.

Extra kudos to Esther Minicotti as Marty's mother, and Augusta Ciolli as the perfectly bitchy Aunt Katherine. 

It’s a great story about two lonely people. We watch Marty and Clara fall in love, and this beautiful, quiet little drama touches our hearts.

The NFR Project is one writer’s attempt to review all the films listed in the National Film Registry in chronological order. Next time: The Night of the Hunter.

NFR Project: 'Kiss Me Deadly' (1955)

 

NFR Project: “Kiss Me Deadly”

Dir: Robert Aldrich

Scr: A.I. Bezzerides

Pho: Ernest Laszlo

Ed: Michael Luciano

Premiere: May 18, 1955

106 min.

What in the hell is going on here? It’s a two-fisted, nihilistic film noir with plenty of action and not a lot of common sense. But it doesn’t matter, we’re having too much fun.

It’s based lightly on Mickey Spillane’s 1952 popular pulp novel. Mike Hammer (Ralph Meeker) is a bullyboy and a sleazy, salacious detective (he pimps his loving girlfriend Velda – and himself -- out for divorce cases). One night he encounters, running down the highway, a weeping, distracted girl in a trench coat and nothing else (Cloris Leachman’s film debut). She jumps into his sports car and off they go to the sound of Nat ‘King’ Cole.

She refuses to tell him what the problem is, and commences philosophizing. Bad guys jump upon them; the girl is tortured to death while Hammer lays by, helpless. Then he and the girl’s body are jammed into his car and pushed off a cliff and set aflame. And that’s just the first ten minutes.

Naturally, Mike is pissed. Once he recovers, he begins his search for the girl’s murderers. This leads him on the trail of various gangsters, and a femme fatale Lily (Gaby Rodgers). The trouble seems to be about a box of some kind, containing something dangerous and unearthly.

Mike gets to beat a lot of people up, which he enjoys. Velda is in danger, Mike goes to save her. There are character actors galore here: Strother Martin! Jack Elam! Even the inimitable Percy Helton in perhaps his greatest role as an evil coroner. Interestingly, though Hammer is supposed to be a working-class detective, many of the clues in the film are triggered by or near classical music, poetry, and art. Hammer is out of his element, so much so that he can’t foresee nuclear annihilation when it’s in his hot little hands.

The femme fatale Lily turns out to be someone else entirely. She shoots her co-conspirator, and then he shoots Mike. And she’s just got to open that box . . .

Spoiler Alert: I had watched the old, shorter ending of this film for 30 years – in which the last thing we see is the beach house exploding. This time out, I snagged a copy of the ORIGINAL ending. In it, Hammer and Velda escape the burning beach house. Hammer, though gutshot, stands in the surf clinging to Velda as they watch the place burn down. They survive! This certainly puts a new spin on the whole project. What was deemed to be a nihilistic statement about mankind was really a bad edit. It’s considerably more upbeat than before.

The NFR Project is one writer’s attempt to review all the films listed in the National Film Registry in chronological order. Next time: Marty.

NFR Project: 'Jailhouse Rock' (1957)

 

NFR Project: “Jailhouse Rock”

Dir: Richard Thorpe

Scr: Guy Trosper

Pho: Robert J. Bronner

Ed: Ralph E. Winters

Premiere: Nov. 8, 1957

96 min.

I was flabbergasted! Somebody taught Elvis how to act! (Not really.)

Singing star Elvis Presley was only 22 when this film was made; it was his third film and probably his best, which is not saying much. The idea of his going into movies to exploit his spectacular fame was his manager Col. Tom Parker’s. Elvis wanted to win an Oscar for acting, however, his 31 films were largely the same: musical rom-coms that painted the King as a loveable, ambitious young tough guy who rises to fame on the strength of his talent. The same basic story was repeated ad infinitum.

Elvis WAS an amazing singer, well-versed in blues and gospel and translating that soulful energy into his performances. He pretty much invented rockabilly, blending blues and country into a vital new genre of music. He was the first white artist to sing as a Black artist might; the combination of his looks, his divine voice, and his raw power made him a superstar overnight. Women wanted him, men wanted to be him.

Immediately, the powers that be moved to exploit him. He changed from a rebel into an establishment crooner (he is said to have taken as much inspiration from the style of Dean Martin as from Black singers). He made three films a year from 1964 to 1969, glutting the market with his product until he burned out and tried to return to his rock roots, winding up as a garish Las Vegas attraction.

Elvis was our enchanted singer, our Orpheus. And, like Orpheus, he was destroyed by the Maenads of excess and indulgence. His life became the archetype of the story of too much, too soon. His death at the age of 42 was tragic, but avoidable.

But this film shows us the young, unspoiled artist at his peak, a year before he was drafted into the Army. Elvis’ insolent and sullen persona makes him an unlikely protagonist. Here he’s Vince, a construction worker who’s a nice guy. When a man harasses a woman in a bar, Vince beats him to death.

Vince goes to jail for manslaughter. There he meets Hunk (Mickey Shaughnessy), who is basically king of the cellblock. He takes Vince under his wing and teaches him how to play the guitar. When an opportunity comes for a concert to be broadcast on TV from prison (?), Vince makes a huge impression and receives tons of fan mail, which the warden thoughtfully keeps from him.

Vince gets out and begins a dizzyingly rapid rise to fame and fortune, egged on by Peggy (Judy Tyler), a music promoter who believes in him and comes to love him. Vince’s head is turned by his sudden fame and he becomes an arrogant jerk. As a result, Hunk punches him in the throat. His future is endangered for a time, but he recovers his voice, and Peggy, in time for the fadeout.

The entire project is a vehicle for pushing the Elvis myth. He sings a few songs (four of them written by Leiber and Stoller), either gyrating and rocking out as in the title number, or crooning something slower soulfully. In terms of acting, he can barely cross a room competently, much less show any emotion save petulance.

We are flogged into buying the idea of him as an extraordinary person – tough, working-class, but possessed of a heart. This attempt is unsuccessful. The movie Elvis is devoid of humor, friendliness, and charm. Nothing the filmmakers attempt here can overcome his basic unsuitability for film. A depressing entry.

The NFR Project is one writer’s attempt to review all the films listed in the National Film Registry in chronological order. Next time: Kiss Me Deadly.