It was dreary and rainy all day today. It is supposed to rain all weekend. Since I skipped working out last night, I hit the gym tonight before I headed home. I didn’t have anything else to do anyway. Besides, working out and being in sweaty gym clothes kept me from stopping for nachos on the way home, which was what I really wanted to do.
I got home and ate my leftover calzone. Not really much of a sacrifice, but at least I didn’t spend any more money.
I turned on telly, and of course there was nothing on. TCM seems to have this ‘unlimited crap-fest’ going on at the moment. I flipped over to OnDemand, though, and The Wild One was available. I wasn’t particularly interested in seeing it, but it was a very influential movie at the time, with a big influence on Elvis Presley, James Dean, and of course, eventually Grease. So I watched it. It was OK. Marlon Brando was hot, but not as hot as in Streetcar. He just isn’t my type. He’s too menacing, too rough trade, too everyman for me. It was interesting to see the ideal in its infancy, as it were, before it was perfected. It was interesting to see this persona, looking backwards, and seeing how that raw material has been refined by subsequent interpretations. I guess if I had seen it at the time it would have had much greater impact on me. But maybe not.
I think that Brando is one of the definitive straight-guy ideals, like John Wayne or Humphrey Bogart. I think they became famous because they romanticized the average schmoe. They helped women see the schmoes they were married to as possible romantic fodder, and helped average schmoe guys think that they could be cool and get the girl. Of course in real life many times they can. But these were guys they could identify with. They weren’t spouting romantic dialogue. They weren’t exceptionally good looking. The characters they played weren’t especially complex usually. I guess that’s why their movies don’t do it for me. I don’t speak their language. They’re not my ideal. The average schmoe is what I’m trying to escape from. I don’t identify with him as a gay man, and he is the guy I have to deal with all week long out in the world. The last thing I want is more of the same at home.
Two things did stand out for me. One was the “ribaldry” the bikers indulged in, which apparently consisted mainly of drinking, whistling at women on the street, and adolescent behavior. They also, at one point, put on a mop as a wig and danced together, or showed other evidence of male partners “because there weren’t enough girls to go around”. It reminded me of the cowboys in the West, who used to dance together in the saloons because there weren’t any women. This was standard practice at all girl boarding-schools in England too, so the girls could learn to dance. Products of a more innocent time, I guess. When this movie was made (1953), Uncle Miltie in a dress was the height of comedy, and was no more sexual baggage implied than the Pantomime dames of the British stage. It’s a shame that homosexuality has such a negative connotation for people now that such innocent jokes have been banished by the weight of heterosexual paranoia. Looking at them with the modern eye, there is much more of a homoerotic context than was intended, I’m sure.
The other thing that sticks with me is the “yes means no” thing that the love interest indulged in. Mary Murphy played Kathie Bleeker, a Good Girl who might not have gone all the way, but sure showed every intention of wanting to do so. Had her scene with Brando progressed to an actual sex scene, I wouldn’t have wanted to be the judge at the resulting trial. Although I’m sure she would have alleged rape later, I’m not so sure it would have been rape. At such times, I’m very thankful that I’m not a straight guy. Due to the mores of the time, of course, women were pushed into a strange and unnatural role. They were forced to subvert any natural sexual feelings, or consigned to be reviled by society at large. Still, it would have been very confusing to be a straight guy out on a date with such a woman and have to interpret all those complex and conflicting signals. Women are quite inscrutable enough now, when they are much more plain-spoken. Small wonder they were regarded by many men as an unsolvable puzzle (and borderline unstable) at the time.
Maybe the signals were clearer to people at the time. Maybe the scene was supposed to be a representation of teen-age angst and confusion. She wanted out. He represented freedom, but she decided she wouldn’t pay the price for that freedom. His ultimate rejection of her could have several possible interpretations. They say good movies are supposed to make you think and wonder about them. Maybe that is why this one has survived. Either way, I read that Marlon Brando was the most famous advocate of method acting at the time. I would love to have heard an interview with him on his character’s motivations for his actions in that scene.
That over, I decided to go for a little lighter fare. I turned on A Room With a View, which is also on OnDemand right now. I had watched the first part of it a couple of times, but watched it all the way through tonight (while playing computer games). Of course I could watch Maggie Smith read the phone book. That is a long movie.
I became ravenous again about 10, which made me think about that article I read about how exercise doesn’t make you thin because it kicks your appetite into overdrive. I thought about that as I ate half a frozen pizza. But I knew I wouldn’t sleep a wink tonight if I went to bed this hungry. I already did that last night.
I got home and ate my leftover calzone. Not really much of a sacrifice, but at least I didn’t spend any more money.
I turned on telly, and of course there was nothing on. TCM seems to have this ‘unlimited crap-fest’ going on at the moment. I flipped over to OnDemand, though, and The Wild One was available. I wasn’t particularly interested in seeing it, but it was a very influential movie at the time, with a big influence on Elvis Presley, James Dean, and of course, eventually Grease. So I watched it. It was OK. Marlon Brando was hot, but not as hot as in Streetcar. He just isn’t my type. He’s too menacing, too rough trade, too everyman for me. It was interesting to see the ideal in its infancy, as it were, before it was perfected. It was interesting to see this persona, looking backwards, and seeing how that raw material has been refined by subsequent interpretations. I guess if I had seen it at the time it would have had much greater impact on me. But maybe not.
I think that Brando is one of the definitive straight-guy ideals, like John Wayne or Humphrey Bogart. I think they became famous because they romanticized the average schmoe. They helped women see the schmoes they were married to as possible romantic fodder, and helped average schmoe guys think that they could be cool and get the girl. Of course in real life many times they can. But these were guys they could identify with. They weren’t spouting romantic dialogue. They weren’t exceptionally good looking. The characters they played weren’t especially complex usually. I guess that’s why their movies don’t do it for me. I don’t speak their language. They’re not my ideal. The average schmoe is what I’m trying to escape from. I don’t identify with him as a gay man, and he is the guy I have to deal with all week long out in the world. The last thing I want is more of the same at home.
Two things did stand out for me. One was the “ribaldry” the bikers indulged in, which apparently consisted mainly of drinking, whistling at women on the street, and adolescent behavior. They also, at one point, put on a mop as a wig and danced together, or showed other evidence of male partners “because there weren’t enough girls to go around”. It reminded me of the cowboys in the West, who used to dance together in the saloons because there weren’t any women. This was standard practice at all girl boarding-schools in England too, so the girls could learn to dance. Products of a more innocent time, I guess. When this movie was made (1953), Uncle Miltie in a dress was the height of comedy, and was no more sexual baggage implied than the Pantomime dames of the British stage. It’s a shame that homosexuality has such a negative connotation for people now that such innocent jokes have been banished by the weight of heterosexual paranoia. Looking at them with the modern eye, there is much more of a homoerotic context than was intended, I’m sure.
The other thing that sticks with me is the “yes means no” thing that the love interest indulged in. Mary Murphy played Kathie Bleeker, a Good Girl who might not have gone all the way, but sure showed every intention of wanting to do so. Had her scene with Brando progressed to an actual sex scene, I wouldn’t have wanted to be the judge at the resulting trial. Although I’m sure she would have alleged rape later, I’m not so sure it would have been rape. At such times, I’m very thankful that I’m not a straight guy. Due to the mores of the time, of course, women were pushed into a strange and unnatural role. They were forced to subvert any natural sexual feelings, or consigned to be reviled by society at large. Still, it would have been very confusing to be a straight guy out on a date with such a woman and have to interpret all those complex and conflicting signals. Women are quite inscrutable enough now, when they are much more plain-spoken. Small wonder they were regarded by many men as an unsolvable puzzle (and borderline unstable) at the time.
Maybe the signals were clearer to people at the time. Maybe the scene was supposed to be a representation of teen-age angst and confusion. She wanted out. He represented freedom, but she decided she wouldn’t pay the price for that freedom. His ultimate rejection of her could have several possible interpretations. They say good movies are supposed to make you think and wonder about them. Maybe that is why this one has survived. Either way, I read that Marlon Brando was the most famous advocate of method acting at the time. I would love to have heard an interview with him on his character’s motivations for his actions in that scene.
That over, I decided to go for a little lighter fare. I turned on A Room With a View, which is also on OnDemand right now. I had watched the first part of it a couple of times, but watched it all the way through tonight (while playing computer games). Of course I could watch Maggie Smith read the phone book. That is a long movie.
I became ravenous again about 10, which made me think about that article I read about how exercise doesn’t make you thin because it kicks your appetite into overdrive. I thought about that as I ate half a frozen pizza. But I knew I wouldn’t sleep a wink tonight if I went to bed this hungry. I already did that last night.
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