Plot Intro
New Orleans, the late '40s. Southern Belle, Blanche DuBois (Vivien Leigh) arrives in New Orleans looking to stay with her sister Stella (Kim Hunter) and Stella’s husband Stanley Kowalski (Marlon Brando). Stella and Stanley quickly realise that all is not well with Blanche, as she reveals that their grand childhood home, Belle Reve, has been lost amidst financial ruin, and Blanche is spiralling into a nervous breakdown. Meanwhile Blanche’s high-born snobbery and Stanley’s macho bullying put them into intense conflict with each other, leading to some pretty intense shouty scenes.
13 women have won two Best Actress Oscars but a vast majority won both awards within a 10 year gap. Only four winners had gaps between Oscar wins of more than a decade so 12 years between her win for Gone With the Wind and Streetcar is quite substantial for Vivien. Ingrid Bergman also had a 12 year gap between her two Oscars, Frances McDormand has a 21 year gap, while Her Royal Majesty Meryl Streep herself holds the record for the longest gap between Best Actress wins with a whopping 29 years.
Unlike many Oscar winners, Vivien won her Oscars for what are, arguably, her best known roles. They are also immensely similar in that both Scarlet O’Hara and Blanche DuBois are “Southern Belles” of wealthy and high-born ancestry who encounter poverty and the loss of their livelihoods. But they are also very different. Blanche is, for starters, older but, more significantly, she is much less resourceful, survivalist and has nowhere near Scarlet’s tenacity. She is broken, delusional, helpless and unstable.
The fact that Vivien displays all of these facets to Blanche, along with glimmers of the “Old Blanche” who was evidently kind, forthcoming and convivial, proves that this is not just a repeat of her success as Scarlet. This is evidence that she truly deserves her place in the Hollywood Hall of Fame, and whether you enjoy the film or not, you will see an example of some of the most tremendous acting in the history of cinema. She starts off as nervous and jumpy but with a desire to please and ingratiate herself, but ends the movie in an almost animalistic state of terror and I felt for her all the way through, even if she is understandably exhausting.
Streetcar isn’t a story for everyone, I must admit. It doesn’t have the excitement of Gaslight, the fun of The Farmer’s Daughter or the nuance of The Heiress (these three films are rapidly becoming the standard by which I measure all future films from this era). The original play can drag and feel overly dramatic. But I think it works better as a film and this is probably the best adaptation you will see. Elia Kazan’s direction conveys the overwhelming heat and claustrophobia of Stanley and Stella’s dirty little apartment, as well as the surrounding noise and bustle of New Orlean’s French Quarter which a big, spacious stage will struggle to show. Camera angles and haunting sound effects can be used to effectively create an air of mystery around Blanche’s ethereal past life at Belle Reve. And the changes to the script ensures the film is shorter and pacier (although I’d argue that further cuts could have been made), and the alternative ending in which Stella leaves the abusive Stanley rather than returns to him may be less tragic but it’s much more satisfying.
A huge hit, Streetcar is one of 15 films to garner Oscar nominations in all four acting categories and won three (Kim Hunter won Best Supporting Actress and Karl Malden won Best Supporting Actor as the hapless Mitch). It was nominated for 12 Oscars in total, and won four, and it made a star and sex symbol out of Marlon Brando who is also outstanding. This became his first of four consecutive Best Actor nominations and by the end of his life he had gained eight Oscar nominations and two wins overall - an incredible feat.
But back to our gal Vivien. We last left her in 1940 when she married the king of all egotistical luvvies, Laurence Olivier. Both of their careers throughout the '40s were met with highs (such as Olivier’s success in his cinematic adaptation of Hamlet) and lows (such as joint Broadway production of Romeo and Juliet in which they invested $40,000 only for it to be critically panned). Vivien was the first person to play Blanche DuBois on stage in the West End in 1949 and, of course, Laurence Olivier directed the production. Fun fact: the very first person to play Blanche on Broadway was future Best Actress winner Jessica Tandy, while Marlon Brando, Kim Hunter and Karl Malden all originated their movie adaptation roles on Broadway too.
Vivien’s performance on stage was so well received that she got the part in the movie two years later and her success and popularity continued both on screen and on stage. However, her struggles with Bipolar Disorder understandably made life hard. Miscarriages in the mid '40s and mid '50s, an extramarital relationship with actor Peter Finch, as well as any bad reviews or criticism could often lead to periods of hyperactivity, depression and eventually a breakdown. This put an enormous strain on her and Olivier’s marriage and they divorced after 20 years in 1960. He would go on to marry actress Joan Plowright.
Meanwhile, Vivien maintained a cordial relationship with her first husband, and a romantic one with her actor Jack Merivale, both of whom were a stabilising force for her but she remained ill throughout the last few years of her life. She died at her 54 Eaton Square flat (there is a blue plaque outside it) from tuberculosis in July 1967 at the age of 53. She left behind a legacy of being one of the most sought-after, glamorous and talked about actresses of all time and, for me at least, her Oscar-winning performances remain masterclasses in acting even after 80 years.
The scenes between Vivien and Marlon Brando are superbly acted. Brando exudes a bullying, intimidating energy whilst also emphasising Stanley’s boyish immaturity and insecurity. He’s also immensely attractive which helps us understand why the hell Stella married him in the first place.
Even at two hours, I think extra cuts to the script could have been made here and there to keep the pace up.
Here’s a moment of iconic film history. A Streetcar Named Desire is probably the best known Tennessee Williams play - in part because of this extraordinarily famous film version. And while I would argue other play in Williams’ repertoire are stronger (Cat on a Hot Tin Roof; The Glass Menagerie), it’s of no question that the part of Blanche DuBois is one of the great roles for an actress, and has been deeply influential on culture as a whole.
This is a film of phenomenal performances. Vivien Leigh deserves every award she got for this, where she shows the nervous cracks beneath a hastily assembled glamorous surface, and delves right in when showing the decline and eventual destruction of DuBois’ sanity. It’s worth noting that this film softens the rape scene of the play, with Stanley hitting her - and anything else is assumed by the viewer, whereas the play makes it explicit that he rapes her. (This plot point is a weaker point of the play in my view, as Williams doesn’t write Stanley in a way that would necessarily result in such a brutal attack - Stanley feels more bored of Blanche than attracted to her, but I’m sure academics have pulled that particular discussion apart better than I).
Most importantly though, how fit was Marlon Brando? I swear to god, he may be the most gorgeous actor to have ever existed - right up to the modern day. Elaine Stritch talks about going to drama school with him in her one woman show Elaine Stritch At Liberty (watch it and thank me later), and he seems to have slept with pretty much everyone at the drama school (Stritch excepted, she says morosely) - a raw sexuality and beauty that he uses in his performance as Stanley to devastating effect - we understand how the plainer Stella is desperate to stay with him - he’s just so goddam sexy.
The film is beautifully shot - angles are thought about, most notably at the end as Blanche lies on the floor, as a nurse attempts to straitjacket her - the camera hovers upside down, unforgivingly on Leigh’s face as she struggles, broken. It’s heart-rending and makes the doctor’s kind offer of politeness and manners very moving - we are grateful (as is Blanche) for the kindness of this stranger.
Leigh is one of those lucky and rare actresses who had two incredible and iconic performances under her belt by the end of her career. Most don’t get one - she had both Gone With The Wind and A Streetcar Named Desire. I can’t think of many other actresses who are known for more than one iconic role in an iconic film (Bette Davis certainly, perhaps Elizabeth Taylor? Answers on a postcard). This, coming later in her life, was a great chance for her to roll up her proverbial sleeves and show them how to do it. And sometimes there’s nothing more satisfying than someone who is a great talent, proving it once again.
Leigh’s central performance lifts this film to legendary status - her slow, relentless descent into madness is truthful and at times agonising to watch. Remarkable acting.
Not a fault of the actors or production team, but Tennessee Williams’ main fault (in my opinion) is his refusal to ever weave lightness into his plays. They are uniformly dark, heavy and without the boost or energy of a comedic or hopeful scene. This is a remarkable and faithful interpretation of his play, but the core writing would benefit from some lighter moments. Life is never entirely depressing - and his insistence on denying this means that the film can drag at times.
Mark
8/10
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