Название | Movie Bliss: A Hopeless Romantic Seeks Movies to Love |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Heidi Rice |
Жанр | Кинематограф, театр |
Серия | |
Издательство | Кинематограф, театр |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781472088451 |
So then all Clarence has to do is ask George if he really wishes he’d never lived. And the answer is a great big resounding no! Not just from George, but from everyone in the audience. And as George runs down the snowy Main Street and shouts merry Christmas to all those people and places he knows and loves (and who now know him, too), he’s got his mojo back (so to speak) and he, at last, realises that small dreams can actually be better than big dreams, especially if you know how to appreciate them.
So what’s the moral of the story?
Maybe it’s that we should all learn to cherish the little things? Maybe it’s that every life has value (even nasty old Mr Potter’s, who hasn’t got a single redeeming feature)? Maybe it’s simply that when the chips are down, you should look at what you’ve got, not what you haven’t? All good advice and all very heart-warming (especially if you’ve just been down a heaving Oxford Street in London’s West End trying to do all that last-minute Christmas shopping you should have done months ago).
But what I love about this film, what never fails to send that delicious quiver of emotion down my spine, is the way it portrays George and Mary’s marriage, because at the end of the day, that relationship is the bedrock of George’s life. Mary’s a sweet, pretty, no-nonsense, and utterly competent and patient wife and mother. She adores George, but she also knows him, inside and out—his weaknesses as well as his strengths.
And that makes theirs the perfect partnership.
That doesn’t mean the kids don’t get on their nerves, or that they don’t get on each other’s nerves, but it does mean that they love each other, and that they’re willing to go that extra mile to make things work. George isn’t the only one who’s made sacrifices, he’s not the only one who’s had to work and struggle and keep things together when it would have been easier to let them slide. Of course, this being George’s story, we don’t see a lot of Mary’s struggles, but they’re there, especially when George loses it with her and the kids and then slams out of the family home—on his way to a date with the icy river and Clarence.
And Mary’s the one who gets them their Happy Ever After in the end, because she tells all their friends and family of the trouble George is in. George being a bloke, of course, doesn’t think of that one (must be something to do with that old Y chromosome ‘asking for directions’ thingy). And so the whole town chips in to help with a few dollars here, a couple more dollars there—and in the end it really isn’t about the money, it’s about the love behind it. Cue another great big ahh.
So, is George and Mary’s marriage a romantic fantasy?
You betcha, but isn’t it one we can all aspire to? And isn’t that the same quality you love to unwrap in your favourite series romance? For me, the fast cars, the luxury homes, the designer wardrobe, even the glistening pecs, the awesome six-pack and the sex-god abilities between the sheets are just the sparkly tissue paper. It’s what’s underneath that counts—the good, strong, steady, dependable heart that’s beating just for you. That’s the real present, the gift you want that will keep on giving….
All right, I’m getting a little carried away now, but you get my drift. Especially if you watch this film on Christmas Eve in front of your bauble-laden tree and a roaring fire with either friends, family or the love of your life—or even just your favourite series romance—snuggled by your side.
On the Waterfront (1954): Brando in His Prime Does Bad Boys Proud
Directed by Elia Kazan
Starring:
Marlon Brando as Terry Malloy
Eva Marie Saint as Edie Doyle
Karl Malden as Father Barry
Lee J. Cobb as Johnny Friendly
Rod Steiger as Charley Malloy
A now-little-seen black-and-white social drama, Elia Kazan and Budd Schulberg’s tale of labour relations on the New Jersey docks circa 1954 is not a romance, but it has at its centre a love story that is so real and so beautifully evoked in only a few scenes it‚s bound to tear at your heart. Plus it’s performed by surely the greatest film actor of all time in his prime (long before he became the size of a small semi-detached house) and an actress who is not only luminously lovely but also sadly underrated IMHO. The chemistry between them in this movie is raw and provocative and poignant and so powerful that their love story is as fresh and real now as it was over half a century ago. And those are just a few reasons why it is my favourite film of all time.
Now, as it happens, it’s the love story in this movie that resonates so beautifully for me, so I’m going to dwell on that and not the rest of the movie—although that’s pretty spectacular, too. Anyone ever heard of Brando’s ‘I coulda been a contenda’ speech? That comes from this multi-Oscar-winner.
So let’s do a quick plot recap. The setting is the New Jersey docks in the 1950s, where the longshoremen’s union is controlled by corrupt thug Johnny Friendly and his right-hand man, Charlie the Gent. Charlie’s younger brother Terry (a thirty-something has-been ex-boxer) has been inadvertently involved in the killing of Joey, one of the longshoremen who was threatening to ‘squeal’ to the crime commission. Terry feels bad about it, but that’s life on the docks. He’s not about to rat out his brother. Until he meets Joey’s distraught sister Edie….
The drama that follows is about Terry’s battle with his conscience, and the harsh life of America’s dockworkers…. It’s social realism through and through, with a cast full of brilliant method actors, a wonderfully understated script by Budd Schulberg, and haunting black-and-white photography. But it’s the developing relationship between Edie and Terry that drives the story and is the heart and soul of the whole movie.
Take their first meeting, when the rough and inarticulate Terry tugs on Edie’s glove and sits on a kids’ swing while chatting to her with offhand bravado about his miserable childhood—Edie responds with quiet class and what Terry sees as a kooky naiveté. But Edie’s attitude isn’t really naiveté at all— it’s the simple belief that if people are loved they can rise above their circumstances….
Cut to the scene in a dingy neighbourhood bar where Terry (not knowing what to do with a nice girl) takes Edie on a sort of date and proceeds to ply her with drink:
Edie says, a little drunk, ‘Shouldn’t everyone care about everyone else?’
And Terry replies, ‘Boy, what a fruitcake you are.’
But as he says it, the tender astonishment in Terry’s eyes shows he’s already falling in love with this girl who’s sweet and innocent, but has the strength of character to rise above the roughness of slum life rather than be beaten down by it as Terry has been.
Always lurking in the background as they are becoming more attached to each other is the terrible truth about Terry’s involvement in Edie’s brother’s murder. The powerful, intensely dramatic and heartbreaking moment when Terry finally confesses his part in Joey’s murder, we don’t hear Terry’s words—they’re drowned out by a ship’s blaring horn—but we see Edie’s face, going from love to horror….
And then the wildly passionate scene when Terry breaks into Edie’s apartment and they kiss… It’s raw, it’s emotional, it’s desperate, as Terry, unable to voice how he feels, shows Edie the only way he knows how. And she submits, because despite Terry’s guilt, despite the bad things he’s done, she can see the good man he wants to be. Phwoar! I defy anyone not to be blown away by that kiss.
Okay, so this movie may be a little too intense and dramatic for a Girls’ Night In, but it’s definitely worth a peek if you like your