NFR Project: 'Gentleman's Agreement' (1947)

 

NFR Project: “Gentleman’s Agreement”

Dir: Elia Kazan

Scr: Moss Hart, Elia Kazan

Pho: Arthur C. Miller

Ed: Harmon Jones

Premiere: Nov. 11, 1947

118 min.

In the wake of the Holocaust, anti-Semitism was suddenly in the spotlight. Western civilization was appalled by the destruction of millions of Jewish lives in World War II – but it turns out that prejudice against Jews was still broad and pervasive, even in highly educated and affluent parts of society.

Such is the premise of Gentleman’s Agreement, a message film that wound up unexpectedly popular, and won the Oscar for Best Picture to boot. In it, Gregory Peck plays Phil Green, a writer for a New York magazine who comes up with an angle for a series of articles about anti-Semitism. He is to claim that he is Jewish – and he records the reactions of those around him to this news.

Green is a widower with a young son (Dean Stockwell), who lives with him and his mother (Anne Revere). He falls for a teacher, Kathy (Dorothy McGuire), but their upcoming wedding is derailed by the revelation that she is prejudiced as well. It turns out that even in high society, Jews are not welcome. Neighbors shun him, clubs ignore him, hotels refuse to serve him. His son is bullied by other kids, called a “kike.” Phil’s friend, returning veteran Dave Goldman (John Garfield), long accustomed to such treatment, commiserates with him over the state of affairs – and fights his own battle to find a house and get a job despite his Jewishness.

Moss Hart’s dialogue is pungent and to the point, and the film is studded with excellent performances, under the command of director Elia Kazan. Kazan won Best Director for his work here; Celeste Holm won Best Supporting Actress for her sensitive portrayal of Green’s supportive fellow worker.

The movie ends happily for all the characters involved, but it created terrible problems for some of its participants. After this film, Kazan, Revere, and Garfield were summoned to testify by the House Un-American Activities Committee, accused of being Communists. Kazan testified against his fellow filmmakers, earning the scorn of many for decades. Revere and Garfield refused to name names, and were blacklisted. The prejudice was still strong.

The NFR is one writer’s attempt to review all the films listed in the National Film Registry in chronological order. Next time: Miracle on 34^th Street.

NFR Project: 'The Lady from Shanghai' (1947)

 

NFR Project: “The Lady from Shanghai”

Dir: Orson Welles

Scr: Orson Welles, William Castle, Charles Lederer, Fletcher Markle

Pho: Charles Lawton Jr., Rudolph Mate, Joseph Walker

Ed: Viola Lawrence

Premiere: Dec. 24, 1947

88 min.

This, Welles’ fascinating take on film noir, was another troubled production.

After the debacle that was the studio-botched end of his The Magnificent Ambersons (1943), Welles made two “normal” pictures – Journey into Fear (1943) and The Stranger (1946). It is said that he agreed to make this picture without looking at the book (If I Die Before I Wake) from which it was taken. Welles needed money for his extravagant stage production of Around the World in 80 Days, so he made a deal with the head of Columbia Pictures, Harry Cohn. Cohn would cover Welles’ expenses, and Welles would write, produce, and direct a feature film for him for free.

The story is complex and confusing. A sailor named Michael “Black Irish” O’Hara (Welles) meets a mysterious woman in Central Park, Elsa (Rita Hayworth), saving her from some thugs. From this brief contact comes a proposal from Elsa’s rich and crippled husband, the top-notch attorney Arthur Bannister (Everett Sloane). Will he work for them, sail with them on their yacht from New York to San Francisco?

Michael thinks he knows better than to accept, especially because of his obsessive attraction to Elsa. However, he takes the job and soon finds himself in uncomfortable close quarters with Elsa, Bannister, and Bannister’ partner, the slimy and disturbing George Grisby (Glenn Anders). The atmosphere is claustrophobic, even in the midst of tropical paradise. Michael tells them a story of how he once watched a wounded shark being devoured by other sharks, creating a frenzy that ended in the all the sharks eating each other.

Then Grisby makes an unusual proposition. He offers $5,000 to Michael to confess to murdering him. Grisby states he wants to disappear, faking his own death and escaping what he perceives to be the upcoming nuclear holocaust. Michael agrees. However, it turns out that Grisby wants to murder Bannister, frame Michael for it, and escape. Unfortunately, Grisby ends up being killed – and Michael’s signed confession means that he is indicted for his murder.

Bannister represents Michael at this trial. Elsa and Bannister himself testify, and the truth comes out – that Michael and Elsa have a romance. Bannister seeks revenge and plans to lose the case in order to put Michael in the death house.

Just before the verdict is pronounced, Michael escapes and runs into Chinatown, hiding out in an Asian theater. Elsa finds him – and he realizes that Elsa killed Grisby. Elsa and Grisby were both in on the plot to kill Bannister, but a private detective for Bannister discovers their scheme. He is killed by Grisby, who is shot in turn by Elsa.

Michael has swallowed sleeping pills during his escape, and he passes out. He wakes up in an abandoned amusement park, where Elsa has stashed him. Elsa shows up, then Bannister shows up, and Michael learns that Bannister has left a letter exonerating him. Bannister and Elsa have a shootout in the Hall of Mirrors. Both are killed. Michael walks away into the new morning.

Welles went the extra mile to make this film distinctive. He shot on location, a rare practice at the time. He creates a film that is very much like a puzzle, withholding key information from the viewer until the last possible moment. His distinctive camerawork is here – odd, disorienting angles, complicated dolly shots, and grotesque close-ups (save for the ravishing shots of Elsa – Welles made Hayworth into a blonde for this film). Hayworth here is ravishing and inscrutable – the typical femme fatale of noir fiction. This film marked the end of Welles’ and Hayworth’s brief marriage and stands as their only film collaboration.

Welles is not unhappy to vex the viewer. A scene in a darkened aquarium is iconic, as is the entire amusement park sequence, in which Welles can really indulge his Expressionist proclivities. This bravura sequence, including the final shoot out, has been copied many times by others. Multiples of Bannister and Elsa crowd the screen, and as the bullets fly, the glass smashes and crashes, fragmenting their faces as they gun each other down.

Cohn was reportedly very unhappy with Welles’ final product. He mandated some more closeups, and handed the film over to editor Viola Lawrence, who cut over an hour of footage from Welles’ version, rendering an already complex plot incomprehensible. (The “fun house” sequence, now only three minutes long, was originally 20 minutes in length!) After the delay of a year, the film was released, to mixed appraisal.

Today the film is honored for its heady atmosphere and virtuoso filming techniques. It is not Welles’ greatest film, but it is a distinctive artifact. After this, Welles would turn to Shakespeare for inspiration, making Macbeth (1948) and Othello (1951).

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

NFR Project: 'The Story of Menstruation' (1946)

 

NFR Project: “The Story of Menstruation”

Produced by Walt Disney Productions

Premiere: 1946

10 min.

Sex education in America was rudimentary for a long time. Women and girls rarely got the kind of information and advice they would need to have a sense of ownership and mastery over their bodies and functions.

Some smart person at the Kotex company thought it appropriate to change this. They commissioned Disney to create a short animated film that would educate schoolgirls about periods and menstruation. This film was crafted, and then shown to millions of young women, demystifying the process and making it less scary.

The film is staunchly wholesome; only the bare clinical details necessary are indulged in, and the whole cartoon has a euphemistic relationship to its subject. In truth, it faced the challenge of being both straightforward and socially acceptable. It does so admirably.

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