Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Thursday, November 12, 2009
The Misfits
A few nights ago, instead of viewing any one of the movies in EW's Top Fifteen, I watched The Misfits. The film's reputation as one of Hollywood's most beautiful and strangely fascinating flops is well-founded--the picture, though remarkably compelling, just does not come off. Yet one is left with an unshakable notion that the film's power is inexplicably tied up in its status as failed art. Its place in movie history is also significant. The Misfits was the final film for two great legends of the screen: Clark Gable and Marilyn Monroe. Based on a short story by Arthur Miller and directed by John Huston (The Maltese Falcon, Treasure of the Sierra Madre), the movie is dark, cerebral, and not a traditional Western. As Miller himself affirmed, "The preoccupation of the film is not what it usually [is] in a Western. It's about people trying to connect and afraid to connect."
With all of the talent and ambition engaged in the project, the film was expected to be a hit. The original trailer showcases the optimistic anticipation that proceeded its theatrical release:
For a time, The Misfits looked as though it would become the quintessential American epic.
The plot centers around a troubled former exotic dancer named Roslyn Taber and played by Monroe, who, after receiving a divorce, sets out into the Nevada desert with aging cowboy Gay Langland (Gable) and a widowed ex-air force pilot (Eli Wallach). Both men abhor "working for wages" and eventually team up with a rodeo man (Montgomery Clift) to capture a heard of wild mustangs and sell them as pet food for profit. Miller wrote the story while in Reno, obtaining a divorce from his first wife in order to marry Monroe, but by the time the film was in production their relationship was nearly over.

Monroe was eternally late to the set and frequently unprepared. Her prescription drug habit was interfering with the quality of her work. In addition, she was flagrantly carrying out an affair with French singer-actor Yves Montand. Miller was utterly emasculated. Legend has it that tired of waiting for Monroe to show up every day, Gable opted to do his own stunts--brutal exertion which may have contributed to the heart attack that killed him.

Thematically, the film not only deals with the increasing difficulty and ethical cost of maintaining a way of life outside of conventional society, but also questions the cowboy as a heroic ideal. In the first half of the film we find that Roslyn's landlady, Isabella Steers (Thelma Ritter), is exceptionally skeptical.

Isabella: He's a cowboy.
Gay: How'd you know?
Isabella: Ha. I can smell, can't I?
Gay: You can't smell cows on me.
Isabella: I can smell the look on your face, cowboy. But I love every miserable one of ya. Of course, you're all good for nothing...as you well know.
Because it is Clark Gable who portrays this fallen hero, a character now subject to this type of criticism, we not only watch a fictional man looking back on his fictional life and finding himself unsure of its merit, but something more significant. In The Misfits, an actor who once embodied rugged, free-spirited adventure to the American audience appears on screen old, out of step, yet still trying to regain his footing, and asks what it was worth. In this respect, Monroe's part is quite similar: Roslyn is a woman tormented to the point of madness by being valued all her life only for her beauty. That the ending is happy and that the two characters eventually drive off across the desert in a beat-up pick-up truck following the North Star makes little difference--the effect is haunting.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Once Upon a Time in the West

The dialog is punchy and amusing, often coalescing in bad ass gems like this one:
Harmonica: The reward for this man is 5000 dollars, is that right?
Cheyenne: Judas was content for 4970 dollars less.
Harmonica: There were no dollars in them days.
Cheyenne: But sons of bitches... yeah.
Yet the plot of Once Upon a Time in the West takes its time to unfold, as the camera habitually lingers on each gritty cowboy face, every textural detail of costume and set. Supported by the film's impressive score, traces of moments secondary to anything remotely touching the principle action are savored and exploited to the last possible degree, at any opportunity. Once things take off, however, we learn that the widow Jill McBain (Claudia Cardinale) is being targeted by the vicious railroad gang that killed her husband and his three children, as she now stands to inherit his property. Cheyenne (Jason Robards), a frowzy escaped convict, and a mysterious harmonica playing loner (Charles Bronson) join forces to protect her. Love triangles are born, conflict ensues, and various scuffles between gunslinging members of the opposing parties lead up to a final showdown between Harmonica and Frank best represented in this YouTube video. Spoiler Alert.
That Cardinale's character is eventually revealed to be a cunning ex-prostitute who likes the feeling of a man's hands all over her so much that she doesn't care if they belong to the man who killed her husband is just a little bit troubling from a certain perspective. At one point Cheyenne tells her, "You know what? If I was you, I'd go down there and give those boys a drink. Can't imagine how happy it makes a man to see a woman like you. Just to look at her. And if one of them should pat your behind, just make believe it's nothing. They earned it." What's more, at film's end, she takes his advice.
And yet above all else, one thing is certain: This is a movie to be enjoyed and treasured. Because it is awesome.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
This American Trail of Tears Road Trip with Sarah Vowell
This 1998 episode of everyone's favorite Chicago Public Radio show turned Showtime series, This American Life, follows writer Sarah Vowell and her twin sister as they retrace the Trail of Tears on a road trip from Georgia to Oklahoma. Over the course of the hour, the part Cherokee siblings attempt to reconcile their complicated dual loyalties to country and heritage while navigating a seemingly unrelated modern landscape of tourist traps and superficial memorials. What results is a thoughtful and affecting reflection on the personal ramifications of history in a flawed democracy.

The history of the Cherokee Nation is a supremely interesting one itself, steeped in a culture and democratic tradition of its own. While the tribe's forced removal from the Eastern seaboard at the hands of Andrew Jackson is now guiltily regarded as a national mistake, Vowell's rendering of the events leading up to the Cherokee's march to the Midwest makes the disturbing unconstitutionality of the whole scene devastatingly clear, which is something I, at least, never really considered.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Clint Eastwood on Hulu
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