Retrospective: A Streetcar Named Desire (1951)
Long Che Chan
Directed by Elia Kazan
Starring Vivien Leigh, Marlon Brando, Kim Hunter, Karl Malden
USA, 1951
Rated PG (strong thematic elements)
A+
For screen adaptations of theater, there’s always a notion that the
movie is simply a filmed play. I have read a couple of the great
Tennessee Williams’ plays and A Streetcar Named Desire is very similar
to the movie version. The film, starring Vivien Leigh, Marlon Brando,
Kim Hunter, and Karl Malden in performances that have become touchstones
for powerful acting, is one of my favorite films of all-time and I,
naively, say that watching the film probably has its advantages over
watching the play version and vice versa. With film there is a more
intimate feel what with close-ups and the ability to be a complete
perfectionist. With theater you are able to see the play (and what a
play it is!) in all its glory with the spontaneity that theater allows.
I have never seen a stage production of Streetcar which, alongside the
work of Arthur Miller, must be the greatest American play written this
century. Therefore, I cannot really judge if the movie is just a filmed
play. However, regardless of ideas and opinions brought about by
nit-picking, A Streetcar Named Desire is one of the most powerful and
frightening films I’ve ever seen and, I am convinced, is a milestone in
the careers of every person involved.
The film version was directed by the incomparable Elia Kazan who also
directed the New York version of the play. Most of the cast of the New
York stage version went on to star in the film except for Jessica
Tandy. She was replaced by Vivien Leigh as Blanche DuBois, the famous
character that has been used ever since it was written as a test of an
actress’ talent. The film begins as Blanche searches for her sister,
Stella Kowalski’s (Kim Hunter), house after having traveled from her
home in Laurel, Mississippi to New Orleans. She is tired, worn. She
discovers Stella in living conditions that appall her. The home is a
two bedroom apartment and Stella shares it with her husband, Stanley
(Marlon Brando).
Throughout the film we see the tragic deterioration of Blanche. When
she arrives in New Orleans on the streetcar Desire, she is already an
unstable, neurotic woman. She frantically explains to her pregnant
sister that the family plantation back in Laurel, Belle Reve, was lost.
Stanley’s suspicions (which he tries to justify by explaining New
Orleans’ napoleonic code in which what belongs to the wife also belongs
to the husband) about Blanche push her to a mental breakdown. After
much investigation, Stanley discovers that Blanche was forced out of
Laurel for having an affair with a student at her school and that she
brought her sexual "victims" to an infamous hotel named the Tarantula
Arms.
Blanche describes Stanley as common. He is a violent, merciless
character who only aids in crumbling the self-esteem and sanity of
Blanche. In one of the most famous scenes in history, Stella, after
being in a violent fight with Stanley, lustfully returns to him against
the advice of Blanche and friends. "Hey, Stella!" Stanley screams. He
is an animal with little remorse for his wrong-doing.
When Blanche has seemingly found love with Stanley’s poker buddy Mitch
(Karl Malden), Stanley seems determined to keep the two apart, divulging
horrific information to Mitch incriminating Blanche and her murky past.
The romance is tested to the breaking point and so is Blanche who, by
the endless and brutal manipulation of Stanley, is becoming more and
more disillusioned and sick everyday.
We also learn about a mysterious deceased husband of Blanche whom she
claims she killed with her disapproval of him. The play alludes to the
fact that Blanche’s husband was gay and that she was a nymphomaniac, but
the movie never even skims the surface of such allusions. This is
because of the constraints built by the Legion of Decency who censored
Streetcar before its release. Despite the meddling of this awful
organization, Streetcar is chilling and potent. Elia Kazan
intelligently interprets Tennessee Williams’ screenplay and works to
bring out the best in all those involved with the movie even with the
barriers the Legion thrust upon Hollywood films in the ‘50s.
Vivien Leigh’s portrayal of the legendary Blanche DuBois is captivating
and stunning and has become one of the great female motion picture
performances of all time. Likewise, Marlon Brando’s fierce performance
as Stanley Kowalski has become one of the most admired pieces of film
acting ever. Kim Hunter and Karl Malden’s performances have not,
despite much praise, gotten the overwhelming attention Leigh and Brando
have gotten. I think Hunter’s performance as the lust-ridden Stella
Kowalski is one of the best supporting performances I have ever seen and
Karl Malden is, as always, perfection. With A Streetcar Named Desire,
Hollywood entered a new realm of acting, a world of method acting that
brought more to the portrayed characters, thereby improving the film.
A Streetcar Named Desire has remained undated and painfully emotional,
even with the decades that have gone by and the Legion’s mutilation. It
is about the disintegration of the human spirit and of humanity itself.
Blanche never loses her humanity but her spirit is trampled on again and
again. Stanley is one of the most monstrous creatures I’ve seen on film;
he has no humanity. The story tells of lust (Blanche’s seeming sexual
lust and her lust for anything but the pain of realism; Stella’s pursuit
of a life away from the barbaric Stanley which is marred by her unending
lust for him), violence, inhumanity, and complete darkness and sadness.
"I don’t want realism, I want magic," Blanche cries after a violent
encounter with Mitch. This scream basically sums up what everyone seems
to be looking for: magic. Reality is not always pretty. Regardless of
whether the play or movie version is better, A Streetcar Named Desire
has become one of the most compelling stories of cinema. I watched
Blanche DuBois for the sixth time last night as she rapidly dissolved in
a world of her own pretentious magic, her shield, and I was, again,
shattered.
By Andrew Chan