Welcome to our final day of our study in the life and work of Marlon Brando. Today we look into the film Apocalypse Now…that word film doesn’t truly describe Apocalypse Now though. It is more of an experience. It has surpassed the realm of mere movie and more a thing of obsession for many people. Trust me…you can go way too far down the rabbit hole with this thing! Not only is there the theatrical version of “Apocalypse Now” but there is also a “Redux” cut which is longer and denser AND there is a full making of documentary. Not to mention the original source material “Heart of Darkness” and countless reviews and dissections of this film (add one to the list).
The plot is very simple: During the height of Vietnam, Captain Willard (Martin Sheen) is sent on a mission to take a small platoon on a boat into the thick of Cambodia to assassinate a defective Colonel Kurtz (Brando). To simplify it even more: it’s like the Saving Private Ryan if they were setting out to kill Ryan. But of course along the journey, the platoon encounters numerous morally-grey situations and tragedies befall. As they get deeper in the jungle, the darker their interactions become and the darker their souls turn. A common comparison/theory I have heard many times is that the journey is similar to Dante’s Inferno and the seven layers of Hell.
Like the “Godfather“, the film has so many iconic moments you almost forget they are all from Apocalypse Now. Wagner’s Flight of the Valkaries playing over the speakers of the helicopters, Sheen’s almost dismal narration through out the film, “I love the smell of napalm in the morning” are so parodied its almost unrecognizable as original when watching the movie. And, of course, the superb acting of Brando as the melodramatic, philosophical, and humid Col. Kurtz. I defy you to not be rapt by his droning (even non-sensical) monologue in the sparsely lit, “ladle-drenching” scene in which Willard is captured and finally meets the mysterious Col. Kurtz. The way he elongates his thoughts is mesmerizing.
“You are an errand boy…sent by grocery clerks…to collect a bill.”
This statement alone sums up not only Kurtz’s philosophy on the U.S. military but also his apathy toward his soon-to-be-murderer and his own mortality. Although, Brando is sparsely used in the movie, the build up to the grandeur of Col. Kurtz could not be executed by any other actor working at the time.
Even more interesting than the film itself is the infamous chaos surrounding it. The first line of the documentary Heart of Darkness is a quote from Francis Ford Coppola:
“This movie is not a film about Vietnam…it was Vietnam.”
Among the typhoons, disease and Martin Sheen almost dying (no lie y’all), in steps Brando and his diva-like personality. For starters, when the casting for Col. Kurtz began, he was described to be a formidable man both of stature and personality. Think A Street Car Named Desire but with salt and pepper hair. So it was much to everyone’s surprise when off steps the plane a chubby, unkempt Brando. He also refused to work with the originally written scenes, requiring he and Coppola to hide themselves away in a trailer for two days as they hammered out the lines that are in the film today. As infuriating as this must have been at the time, the results are perfect for this story.
This concludes our look into the great Marlon Brando! What are your thoughts on our picks? Did we leave one out? Did you go into Superman (1978) dying to see his take on Jor-El (I mean who doesn’t love floating-head Brando)? Are you a fan of Apocalypse Now>The Island of Dr. Moreau? Are you the only one who likes that movie? If so, let us know! You can check us out on FaceBook and Twitter! If you have any suggestions for who we should Spotlight next – actor, director, writer, cinematographer, composer – let us know that too!
Thanks, y’all!
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Welcome back! For Day 6 of our Marlon Brando spotlight series, we’ll be talking about the racy, NC-17 film from director Bernardo Bertolucci: Last Tango in Paris (1972).
You may be wondering why a movie we’ve named as one of Brando’s 7 most essential would garner a measly two-star rating from me (which is a fair question). In my defense, I found this film is incredibly difficult to rate. I think it deserves to be included in the list for its sheer infamy, and because Brando’s acting really does sear itself onto the back of your brain here. AND YET.
I have to be honest– I kind of hate this movie. Hate may be too strong a word, but I just…don’t get its appeal. Yes, I understand that Bertolucci is known for his raw, voyeuristic shooting style, and that there’s something to be said for the uniqueness and gutsiness of the concept. I can even appreciate the artfulness of it (though whether it is “high art” or “low art”, I am still unsure). But, those things aside, it’s just gross. Not in a prudish, “gasp, they’re naked!” kind of way, either; it’s legitimately disturbing. Unspeakable, butter-related moments aside (I don’t know if I can even bring myself to comment directly on that), the relationship between Paul and Jeanne is just plain abusive. Brando, as usual, gives a bold performance filled with gravitas and gusto, but I loathe his character.
But let me back up. Paul (Brando), an American expatriate living in Paris, finds himself swimming in rage and confusion after the tragic suicide of his wife, Rosa. She’s left him utterly alone, struggling with the knowledge of her previous affair with a man living in their hotel. They seem to have had, at best, an unconventional marriage, but in the wake of Rosa’s death, Paul is so shaken that he seems to blame all of womankind for his wife’s transgressions. This is one of the aspects I do appreciate about Last Tango— Brando pours himself into the role, as he always does, and it’s really quite chilling. Excuse for his actions or not, this is a sad, sad person. It is at this point, during the height of his depression, that Paul encounters a young Parisienne (about 25 years his junior), Jeanne, with whom he strikes up an immediate, carnal relationship.
I have to admit, Brando still looks great in this movie, despite pushing 50 and being so much older than his female co-star (Maria Schneider). At first, you can understand why Jeanne would be magnetically attracted to Paul– he’s sexy, he’s mysterious, and then there’s the Florence Nightingale-flavored desire to be the balm for his tortured soul. So, I get it. I really do. BUT it’s at this point that the film starts to lose me.
By the way, Jeanne is engaged to an extremely goofy, aspiring filmmaker. I don’t even remember what his name is, and I’m not going to bother looking it up because he’s such a blip on the plot radar. Clearly, he’s the kind of weak romantic rival that is supposed to make us sympathetic to the fact that she’s cheating on him with Brando. “Who wouldn’t?”, they imply. “His biceps are so scrawny!”, says Bertolucci.
At any rate, it’s just awkward. Whatshisname is shooting some kind of strange, ambiguous biopic about Jeanne– an idea which she could not be less into. There are so many scenes where he’s chasing her around a shrubbery, or dramatically following her as she traipses, listless, through an empty apartment. To me, the movie could have easily been solely about Jeanne and Paul (there is more than enough conflict to spare), and The Fiancé wouldn’t have been needed at all. But, I digress.
As Jeanne silently confronts her sexual dissatisfaction with Monsieur Filmmaker, she is presented with his polar opposite in Paul/Brando. The perhaps too-virile Paul tells her repeatedly that their relationship will based exclusively on sex. They will meet in this dingy apartment, they will hop on the good foot and do the bad thing, and they will UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES reveal their names, or anything personal, to each other. It’s hypocrisy at its finest, because 20 seconds after shrieking at Jeanne for accidentally mentioning something about HER childhood, Paul launches into a five-minute monologue about his OWN childhood. He yells at her, he shoves her naked body onto the revolting mattress; he so clearly uses her as a physical outlet for his own pain. He doesn’t want to hear what she has to say, he doesn’t want to venture outside the apartment together, but he DOES want her available to serve as the vessel for his every perverted whim. He violently curses at her, and rape is a regular occurrence in their “relationship”. It’s disgusting and inexcusable, no matter what personal turmoil he’s going through.
Bertolucci tries to counter these horrifying scenes of abuse with bizarre moments of levity: Brando and Schneider cackle and caper around the room like patients of an insane asylum. They make zoo animal noises to each other, and we get the distinct sense that it’s supposed to be funny and heartwarming. Maybe it is for some, but it didn’t land at all for me– it just comes across as weird and uncomfortable.
So…I don’t know. I don’t know what to do with this movie. Robert Pattinson cited Last Tango in Paris as one of the films he repeatedly watched to get into the role of Edward for the Twilight series, and to that I say: You would. Before I watched this movie, I just thought he was being pretentious, but now that I’ve seen it all I can do is laugh nervously to myself.
What are your thoughts about Last Tango? Do you agree? Disagree? I’d love for you to let me know in the comments below.
Tomorrow, we will be closing out our Brando spotlight series with a review from Micah on the wartime classic, Apocalypse Now (1979). Be sure to check that one out, and stay tuned for more Spotlight Classics at ItsJustAwesome.com!!
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It’s Day 5 on our Marlon Brando spotlight and we’re talking about one of the best, if not the best, film of all time, The Godfather!!
It’s the story of an Italian-American crime family (led by Brando’s Don Vito Corleone) and a war that breaks out between them and the other “families” of New York. It’s about the American Dream, family, Hollywood, corruption, capitalism and so much more.
Scene after scene is fantastic, with each one somehow topping the last.
Here’s the opening one that sets up the story so perfectly:
Currently, it sits at #2 on IMDB’s Top 250 list (with The Shawshank Redemption at #1) while its sequel is right behind it at #3. It was nominated for 11 Academy Awards and won 3 of them, including Best Picture. It also connected well with audiences and was the highest grossing film of 1972.
To say it was an unmitigated success would be an understatement.
But, of course, as many of you already know, the production was oftentimes a nightmare and very chaotic. The studio didn’t want Al Pacino or Marlon Brando and they fought with director Francis Ford Coppola constantly over them as well as nearly every other issue they could find.
It seemed no one thought the movie would be a success.
At the time, Brando was definitely in a career slump. Despite all his accolades, he had become better known for his antics and behind-the-scene quarrels than for his performances and as a result, there were very few people that wanted anything to do with him. The studio only reluctantly agreed to hire him if he met three conditions, as explained by Coppola:
https://youtu.be/r49QSsGxNtk?t=44s
These were insulting to him, no doubt, but he ended up playing what would become one of cinema’s all time great characters and giving one of the best acting performances in the history of film. The rest of the cast is great (perfect, actually) but Brando steals the show and gives the movie its much needed emotional core. That you can root for the Coreleone family is a testament to his acting. Many of you may think of him as being older when this film was made, but it’s only because of the incredible makeup he wore for the part; in fact, he was only 47 years old during production. That makes the performance even better, even more nuanced.
This is Brando at his finest, and his career was resurrected.
We’re winding down our Spotlight, but Kelley will return tomorrow with one of her favorite Brando films, Last Tango in Paris. Or is that one of her least favorite Brando films? I can never remember.
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Welcome back for Day 4 of our Marlon Brando spotlight series! Today we’ll be talking about one of my favorite movies, the film that earned Brando his first Oscar win: Elia Kazan’s On the Waterfront (1954).
I waxed on about the merits of A Streetcar Named Desire in Day 1 (another Kazan/Brando pairing–clearly they knew how to complement each other’s strengths) and Waterfront is just as good, albeit for different reasons.
In a role completely different from the hot-headed Stanley Kowalski, Brando’s Terry Malloy is quiet, introspective, and only fights when he’s pushed to his limits. Malloy is a former boxer, and was largely “sponsored” in his short career by the shady dealings of his older brother, Charlie The Gent, and the corrupt boss of the dock-worker’s union (laughably nicknamed Johnny Friendly). Charlie is Friendly’s right-hand man, and together the duo controls the cash flow of imports/exports along the waterfront. As the story unfolds, we learn that Malloy’s boxing career was incredibly promising until Charlie and Friendly started paying him to take dives in his fights. Friendly’s greed is limitless, and unfortunately, what Friendly wants, Friendly gets. You’ve all probably heard some portion of Brando’s “I coulda had class, I coulda been a contender!” speech (*chills*), chastising Charlie for choosing Friendly over family. As a result of the mob’s betting, Malloy’s rising talent is wasted and he resigns himself to working on the waterfront as a longshoreman: bitter and alone.
Despite his own personal misgivings, Malloy can’t seem to shake the influence of Friendly and the mob. They essentially run the town, and particularly with his brother’s lofty position in the ranks, Malloy remains a reluctant participant in their schemes. To that effect, the film opens with Malloy unwittingly leading a young longshoreman, Joey, to his death at the hands of Friendly’s flunkies. He thinks they merely plan to rough Joey up a bit (to keep him from testifying to the group’s unsavory activities in court), but much to his horror, Joey is pushed from the rooftop in cold blood.
While he’s still processing his own role in the murder, Malloy meets Joey’s sister, Edie (played touchingly by Eva Marie-Saint). This is a turning point for him, and while the “I coulda been a contender!” speech is indeed fantastic, I think the best part of the movie for me is the burgeoning on-screen relationship between Brando and Saint. One of my favorite classic movie bloggers, Anne Helen Petersen, perfectly describes the change that comes over Edie during the course of the movie: “A woman made of Catholicism, shrillness, pointy edges, and buttoned up jackets becomes sexy before our eyes. Part of the transformation can be credited to good directing, lighting, costuming, etc., but as Brando falls in love with her, the way he looks at her — all lusty with those eyelids that fold over on themselves — somehow becomes the way we look at her.” It’s SO true, and you can see a glimpse of the transformation in the clip below:
Brando’s friendship and tender attentions soften her, and while they don’t diminish her thirst for justice on her brother’s behalf, they do open her eyes to the fact that situations in life are rarely black and white.
With the help of Edie and a local priest named Father Barry (Karl Malden, who also co-starred with Brando in Streetcar), Malloy finally gathers the grit and the courage he’s needed to take on Friendly’s organization. He knows the cost of such an action, but he’s come too far to turn back now–redemption awaits by doing the right thing.
The final scene of this movie is one of the most powerful in all of cinema, and makes On the Waterfront a must-see classic (along with, you know, all the other amazing things about it). If you haven’t come across it before, seek it out. Now. Today. Right this minute. It’s one of Brando’s absolute best, and exemplifies the subtle, emotive acting that made him such a one-in-a-million star.
Tomorrow, Charles will be reviewing another stone-cold classic: Francis Ford Coppola’s The Godfather (1972). I can already hear the mandolins. Don’t miss it!
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For Day 3 of our Spotlight on Marlon Brando, we’ll be discussing The Wild One from 1953.
Brando plays Johnny, the rough-and-tough leader of a motorcycle gang. They ride from town to town and cause all kinds of ruckus and mayhem, though generally, they leave before it gets too crazy. In one particularly small town, however, a rival gang shows up and tensions begin to mount. That gang’s leader, Chino (played by Lee Marvin), has a history with Johnny and after a brawl in the street between them, Chino ends up being arrested. At this point, all Hell breaks loose. Both gangs are destroying the city in retaliation for the arrest, while Johnny is torn because he’s fallen for the sheriff’s daughter, Kathie (Mary Murphy), and he can’t quite decide whether to do the right thing and help or just leave the city behind like he always does. It’s the classic question of can the “good girl” tame the “bad boy.”
This is one of those movies that I feel straddles the line between popular and being lost to the ages. It certainly feels like it should be well known, but it hasn’t aged well at all. There’s a certain amount of sensationalism that may have been shocking in the 50s, but comes across as mild and… dare I say… cheesy. The opening even has a title card that reads:
“This is a shocking story. It could never take place in most American towns – but it did in this one. It is a public challenge not to let it happen again.”
Knowing this is a 50s movie, my natural proclivity is to roll my eyes and expect a ridiculously campy story with strong morals and bad effects. “A public challenge??” Yes, I have a certain amount of disdain for this kind of high judgement thing, and the opening narration that immediately begins after certainly doesn’t help (especially since there’s no other narration throughout the rest of the film):
So, why am I still giving this movie 3 stars?
Well, Brando, of course (though, to be fair, I do also love that the motorcycle almost hits the camera in that opening shot. Not sure if that was on purpose or not, but it did temporarily make me think the movie might actually be, you know, shocking).
Brando alone makes this movie worth watching. He plays Johnny as a kind soul, someone who knows right from wrong, someone who is introspective and thoughtful, but doesn’t always allow himself to do the right thing. He’s had bad experiences with cops and that has tainted so much of his life that even when the best solution is staring him in the face, he can’t force himself to compromise on silly stubborn ideal he’s created for himself. But Kathie is more than just the average girl to him, and he can see that she really wants to get out of the town, too. For her, it’s too small and too suffocating. She’s certainly a big fish in a small pond and that presents an interesting dynamic because she is shown to be strong and knows exactly what she wants out of life. Johnny, on the other hand, is apparently rebelling just to rebel, unsure of what he’s doing with his life.
That, of course, is one of the movie’s most famous lines (and maybe the only famous line from it) making it perhaps Brando’s version of Rebel Without a Cause (which is ironic because he auditioned for that movie and didn’t get the part).
Still, watch this one only for Brando… and maybe the restrained and nuanced ending (which actually surprised me a bit).
For Day 4 tomorrow, Kelley will be back with her review of On the Waterfront as we continue our spotlight on Marlon Brando!!
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It’s Day 2 of our Spotlight on Marlon Brando and I have the pleasure of writing about Julius Caesar. If you can’t tell from my score up there, I love this movie.
And why not?
It’s one of Shakespeare’s greatest and most famous plays (who here didn’t have to recite Mark Antony’s speech in high school??), directed by the Oscar winning Joseph L. Mankiewicz (of All About Eve fame), and starring some of the finest actors ever, including James Mason, Deborah Kerr, and, of course, Mr. Brando.
With a pedigree like that, one would have to work especially hard to muck it up, but I suppose stranger things have happened.
Still, that is certainly not the case here.
Oddly enough, I had never before questioned the historical accuracy of the plot… and I was perfectly okay with that. Caesar’s last words just had to be “Et tu, Brute?” didn’t they?? Well, as it turns out, maybe they did. Shakespeare’s account of the betrayal and murder of Caesar by his peers and protégés is (mostly) based on Plutarch’s Lives of Noble Greeks and Romans, and while we will never know for sure, it does make it all the more impressive and all the more tragic that these events likely went down in a similar way in real life.
Brando plays Mark Antony, and though he receives top billing, his character is largely absent for the first half of the movie. But when he finally does appear, man, is it one of the most dynamic and exiting moments in all of cinema. It’s the turning point; you see, Antony was not part of the group that betrayed Caesar, and yet, for whatever reason, he is not murdered despite knowing the truth. In fact, Brutus even allows him to speak at Caesar’s funeral, a mistake that changed the course of history, because Antony is able to get all of Rome on his side in a show of solidarity for Caesar. They are united against the “noble” Brutus and war is started.
Brando is simply electric here, delievering his speech with such gusto that you’re likely to be standing up and yelling at your television by the end, cheering with the good people of Rome.
But this is actually why I’m giving the film 3.5 stars instead of 4.
Antony’s speech is easily the best part, and it never again reaches such heights. That’s not to say the rest isn’t extremely well done, but it just pales in comparison. Still, I definitely recommend this movie, especially if you’re only vaguely familiar with the play. The words really come off the screen and it remains one of Hollywood’s best Shakespeare adaptations.
Tomorrow, I’ll be returning for Day 3 with my review of The Wild One, so come back and check it out!!
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On this day in history, screen legend Marlon Brando was born. The world didn’t know it then, but here was a man (/baby) who would shake up Hollywood to such an extent that the “rules” for what constituted a performance would never be the same. Brando didn’t care two figs about what was expected socially or professionally– he wore dirty jeans instead of then-fashionable high-waisted trousers, had three children with his housekeeper, bought a South Pacific island (?!)…the list goes on. In other words, he charted his own path, and steamrolled through the studio system like the bull-in-a-china-shop that he was. In later years, his hubris and laissez-faire attitude about his health and professional relationships would cause his star to dim a bit, but none of that can take away from the genius of his work.
To celebrate the life and impact of such an American movie icon, we at ItsJustAwesome decided to dedicate an entire week to reviewing (what we consider to be) his 7 most essential films. Today, on Day 1, we’ll be talking about one of Brando’s earliest triumphs: Elia Kazan’s take on the Tennessee Williams play, A Streetcar Named Desire (1951).
Aptly named, Streetcar is a sultry, sticky, bourbon-soaked doozy of a film. You can practically feel the stifling heat rising off the pavement of The Quarter, as bawdy New Orleans jazz floats through the open window of the apartment where Blanche and Stanley circle one another like cage fighters. Gone are the moonlight and magnolias of earlier Southern films like Gone With the Wind and Jezebel—Streetcar is an onion of emotional and psychological traumas, and it’s not until the final scene that we realize just how many layers must be peeled away and tearfully dissected to reach the core. Nobody can pen a seedy, disturbing family drama quite like Tennessee Williams, and, if nothing else, his story makes you thankful that you have the family you do.
This is an incredible movie, there’s no question about it. It won 4 Oscars, and was nominated for another 8. Vivien Leigh is pitch-perfect in her role as the emotionally fragile, high-minded Blanche DuBois, and she absolutely deserved her Best Actress win. If you ask me, Brando should have won for his explosive performance as Stanley Kowalski as well (sorry, Humphrey, I still love you–and The African Queen), but alas, it was not his time yet.
The film opens with Blanche arriving in New Orleans, by way of the titular streetcar named Desire. She has taken a leave of absence from her job as a high school English teacher in Auriol, Mississippi, and plans to stay in The Big Easy with her sister Stella…indefinitely. Unfortunately for Blanche, she knows nothing of Stella’s living situation before she arrives in town– or of Stella’s husband, Stanley, for that matter. As we’re caressed by a decadent horn soundtrack, we see the city of New Orleans through Blanche’s eyes: torrid, dirty, baked in sin. The aristocratic Blanche is horrified even further when she sees Stella’s graceless, ground-floor apartment in the the French Quarter. She can’t fathom why her sister would live in such a place, until she meets the equally graceless, animalistic Stanley.
Enter a sweat-soaked, T-shirt-clad Marlon Brando. Brando’s Stanley Kowalski is brutish, bull-headed, volatile…but DAMN, is he sexy. I say this because, not only is it difficult to deny as a person with eyes and the ability to see, but it is also integral to understanding the hypnotic hold he has on Stella. He shoves people around, rips his clothes under the agony of his own emotions, hurls dishes against the wall (“Oh, Stanley has always smashed things”); he’ll be tender and caressing one minute, then savagely dangerous the next. Yet, Stella has no interest in leaving him. She is utterly mesmerized by the magnitude of his sex appeal, and powerless to resist her own desire for him. This photo pretty much says it all:
In one of many examples of Streetcar‘s excellent dialogue, Blanche gets up the gumption to comment on Stella’s abusive relationship:
Blanche: You’re married to a madman.
Stella: I wish you’d stop taking it for granted that I’m in something I want to get out of.
Blanche: What you are talking about is desire– just brutal Desire. The name of that rattle-trap streetcar that bangs through the Quarter, up one old narrow street and down another.
Stella: Haven’t you ever ridden on that streetcar?
Blanche: It brought me here. Where I’m not wanted and where I’m ashamed to be.
Stella: Don’t you think your superior attitude is a little out of place?
Blanche: May I speak plainly? If you’ll forgive me, he’s common. He’s like an animal. He has an animal’s habits. There’s even something subhuman about him. Thousands of years have passed him right by, and there he is. Stanley Kowalski, survivor of the Stone Age, bearing the raw meat home from the kill in the jungle. And you– you here waiting for him. Maybe he’ll strike you or maybe grunt and kiss you, that’s if kisses have been discovered yet. His “poker night”, you call it. This party of apes.
Therein lies the central conflict of the movie. Blanche is immune to Stanley’s charms (if they can be called that), and sees him for the brute that he is. On the other hand, Stanley also sees through the carefully-crafted backstory that Blanche has invented for herself. She’s clearly hiding the true reasons she has for being in New Orleans, and he won’t rest until he has brought them into the light. At first, the cracks in her story seem innocent enough, but as time wears on and the threat of discovery looms, Blanche’s neuroses become more and more apparent. Stella, in dismay, finds herself torn between defending her husband’s actions and protecting her sister’s fragile grip on reality.
Again, this is a fantastic movie. The one con for me personally is that it feels very much like a play at times (which I guess it should, because it is), and I’m not always in the mood to watch that type of film. With that said, however, I do revisit this gem every 1-2 years, and it gets me every time. The performances from everyone involved give me chills, but I think my eyeballs would need to be surgically removed from the screen during any scene with Brando. It’s no wonder at all that this became one of the most iconic roles of his career–it’s a truly unforgettable performance.
Tomorrow, Brando trades a T-shirt for a toga in his performance as Mark Antony in Julius Caesar (1953). Be sure to come back for Charles’ review on that one, as well as the rest of our Brando reviews this week at ItsJustAwesome.com!!
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