On the Waterfront 
      
      
          A former prizefighter (Marlon Brando) is caught up in a corrupt union 
		headed by a mobster (Lee J. Cobb), but starts to question his beliefs 
		when he falls for the sister (Eva Marie Saint) of a man who was murdered 
		for informing.  
		
		 Kazan's boldly emphatic style was never put to better use than in 
		this gritty social drama, which captured the Oscars for picture, 
		director and actor. The atmosphere of menace which had hitherto been 
		confined to the crime picture (later known as "film noir") was here 
		skillfully expanded to a wider realm, and combined with a visual style 
		that emphasizes the desolation of the urban landscape and the cramped 
		inner life of the working class. It was something new in American 
		pictures, the product of a decade-long shift away from studio to 
		location shooting, and from the old "seamless" technique to a 
		rough-edged style influenced by the school of method acting. If in some 
		ways it seems old hat today, part of that is due to its immense 
		influence on later productions.  
		For all its starkness and sense of alienation, On the Waterfront 
		still suffers from a simplistic story and script, and an overwrought 
		dramatic emphasis. It's safe to say that the film probably woudn't have 
		worked at all but for the great lead performance of Brando. His Terry 
		Malloy - brutal, ignorant, mutely suffering, constantly wavering between 
		tenderness and aggression - is a fully realized dramatic creation that 
		demonstrates just why he was the most admired actor of his time. Watch 
		him, not only in the great scene with Rod Steiger (as his brother) in 
		the taxicab, but also in his scene at the bar with Saint, or on the 
		rooftop with the young toughs, or in just about any of his scenes - and 
		marvel at the way his inflections, hesitations, body movements, 
		everything about him, displays an inner conviction and power that makes 
		his character exist in the flesh. He carries the film on his shoulders 
		and makes it work.  
		Most of the other actors do fine, particularly Cobb, who is his usual 
		larger-than-life self. The one glaring exception is Karl Malden - 
		unconvincing in the admittedly misconceived role of a crusading priest. 
		Leonard Bernstein's music is great on its own terms, but too 
		overpowering at times as a film score. And the ending - well, it's 
		dramatic, alright, but if you think anything like that would really 
		happen outside of a movie, you haven't seen too much of the world.  
		It's hard to watch the film without relating it to Kazan's own 
		controversial decision, two years before, to turn on his friends and 
		"name names" to HUAC during the witch hunts. There is something awfully 
		defensive and self-serving about the aspect of the film which treats of 
		informing as a moral act. Seen without reference to the director's 
		history, however, it doesn't create the impression of a reactionary 
		tract, but rather an impassioned drama about the moral awakening of an 
		unlikely hero. The film's crude theatricality has not worn well over 
		time, but the visual style, and especially the central performance by 
		Brando, insures that it has a place in the pantheon of classic films. 
		 |