I really don’t want to spend a lot of time discussing Around the World in 80 Days. I’ve already spent 3 hours watching it and spending too much time writing about it is pretty much unwarranted. This is one of those annoying years where I go into it knowing that I’m going to be disappointed because there are at least 2 or 3 better films that I could be watching. But then, as I watch the film, I try to put myself in the place of an audience member of the time and try and discern what it was about this particular film that made it resonate so much with its contemporary audience. Clearly Around the World in 80 Days is a film that resonated with its audiences.

One thing to keep in mind was the era. The 1950’s were a time of scientific innovation. Cities were expanding. Factories were sprouting like flowers and things that were once unattainable for everyone but the rich, like automobiles and television sets, were starting to appear in everyone’s respective driveways and living rooms. When you think about it, America in the 1950’s was a very left-brained society. It makes sense then, that a film that pushed the boundaries of technical innovation would be so popular with the general movie-going public, as well as with the academy’s voters.

There were certainly a fair amount of technical innovations in Around the World in 80 Days that I’m certain must have influenced a number of Academy voters. There were over 100 locations used in 13 different countries. They literally used thousands of extras and thousands of animals on the production, and it was shot in color on 70 mm film. All of this created a larger than life spectacle that must have seemed to take film making to the next level, despite the fact that there are holes in the story that are wide enough to fly a hot air balloon through.

The story is long and convoluted so I’m not going to bother with a full synopsis. The premise, however, is about an eccentric English gentleman named Phileas Fogg (David Niven) who proposes to the other members of his Gentlemen’s Club that he can circumnavigate the globe in eighty days. None of them believe him and they all wager against him. Taking his man-servant Passepartout (Cantinflas) with him, he sets out on the journey that takes him through Spain, the Barbary Coast, India, China, the United States and all points in between. On the way, he’s pursued by a detective from Scotland Yard who is certain that Fogg is responsible for a bank robbery in order to finance his expedition. They rescue an Indian princess (Shirley MacLaine) from being burned with her dead husband in India. And they meet all manner of unique people that make each country special in its own way. All the while, the members of the club monitor his progress through the newspapers and continue to gamble based on the varying degrees of his success.

One of the technical innovations of the 1950’s was television, and it had a direct effect on how films were being made. For the most part the movie studios were terrified of television, and saw it as a direct threat to their business. If people could stay at home and watch television shows for free, what reason would they ever have to go to the movies? One of the ways they tried to solve that was with large format. Shooting in Cinemascope on 70 mm and giving the audience a huge image to look at that television couldn’t possibly replicate was one way of enticing people to continue to go to the theaters.

I look at the introduction of widescreen formats in similar way as the introduction of sound 30 years earlier. Much like the technical innovation, as well as limitations, set filmmaking back by a decade or so in the 20’s, widescreen set filmmaking back in a less drastic, but similar way in the 50’s and Around the World in 80 Days exemplifies that. This is a beautiful film. The cinematography is outstanding and the film makers did a great job of showing the environments, landscapes and vistas of various worldwide locales. The problem is that they did too much of it. They shot all of this beautiful footage and felt compelled to leave it in the film so that every introduction to every new location has five minutes of shots just showing the setting. While it may be beautiful to look at, it slows down the story to an interminable pace. The story is slow enough as it is, and the need of the filmmakers to show off a new toy has gotten in the way of their ability in this film to tell a good story.

The story itself is disorganized and unsatisfying. Director Michael Anderson had a nasty habit of putting the characters in difficult situations and setting up how they were going to get out of them, but not showing the action itself. For example, there’s a scene in the second half of the film as they’re making their way across the western United States when the train comes under attack by Comanche’s. Passepartout heroically leads the Indians away from the train, but is captured by them. After the train has safely reached the station, Fogg is told by local cavalrymen that Passepartout is certain to be tortured and killed by the Comanche, and Fogg convinces the cavalrymen to come with him on a rescue mission. We see the Comanche preparing to burn Passepartout at the stake. The cavalry arrives at the village and we see Passepartout with the flames around him look with relief at their arrival. We then cut to Fogg, Passepartout, Princess Aouda, and Inspector Fix sitting in front of the train station contemplating how they’ll get to New York. Then we see them attach a sail to a rail car and sail along the tracks, unsure if they’ll make it on time, and then we see them in New York. They film is full of these types of scenarios where Anderson gave his characters road blocks, and then just shows them on the other side without showing us how they got there. To me, that’s one of the most frustrating motifs of this film, and it happens constantly throughout.

Is this film all bad? Not at all. The story is a convoluted mess, but as mentioned before it’s beautifully shot and stunning to look at. There are also some genuine moments of good humor sprinkled throughout the film. The performances by David Niven, Cantinflas, Shirley MacLaine, and Robert Newton are terrifically entertaining, and are the main reason to sit through the film. Although even with that said. Fogg is a terribly pretentious and aloof character who is hard to root for or care about. That’s another one of the main problems with this film. It’s never a good thing when your main character isn’t at the very least sympathetic.

Ultimately, though, Around the World in 80 Days is all about the spectacle. The problem is with what it’s missing. It’s hard to think that a 3-hour film could be missing anything, but this film is missing a lot. First of all, with the characters as well developed and well performed as they are, we should care about them. We should care about what they’re doing and what’s going to happen to them. Unfortunately everything in the story is so superficial that it’s impossible to become emotionally engaged. The reason for that is that this is a self-indulgent film. Too many of the scenes take way too long. Such as the scene where Passepartout has to act as a matador in a bullfight so that they can procure transportation out of Spain. It’s a fine scene, but it lasts 5 minutes too long. The Indian chase is another scene that takes too ling. The hot air balloon scene is yet another one. I can’t help but think that if they’d been able to edit themselves down to 2 hours or even 2:15 that they would have had a much tighter film that would have felt a lot more riveting and entertaining.

Did the Academy get it right?

The obvious answer from today’s perspective is no, they did not. Around the World in 80 Days was nominated against Giant, The King and I and The Ten Commandments. Any one of those films was more deserving of winning the award, as they were all big films as well, and they had compelling stories and/or wonderful music. They also had compelling stories with characters that you cared about and rooted for. The Ten Commandments also made more at the box office that year than all of the other nominees combined and, along with The King and I, have become two of the most beloved films of all time. In fact, The Ten Commandments actually has a lot of the same technical innovations as Around the World in 80 Days. I’m honestly surprised that that film didn’t win that year, and the only reason I can think of for that being the case, is that Around the World in 80 Days was probably perceived to be a much more fun and entertaining film, whereas The Ten Commandments probably felt a little bit like going to Sunday School. Giant is also the only film on this list to make AFI’s list of top 100 films, coming in at #82. Another thing I have to mention is one film that wasn’t even nominated, and that’s The Searchers, which is perhaps John Wayne’s finest film, and is a film that transcends its genre and has become timeless. It also is on AFI’s list, coming in at #96. With all that said, however, Around the World in 80 Days was a spectacle and a feel-good adventure that must have had audiences in 1956 supremely entertained and feeling happy when they left the theater. So overall, while I don’t think the Academy got it right in 1956, I do understand why they got it wrong.

I don’t really have a ton to say about Marty. It’s a fine film, but to me not an outstanding one. At 90 minutes, it’s the shortest film to ever win the Oscar for Best Picture, and it feels like they (to use a football term) left a lot of plays on the field. They could have pushed it to two hours and done a lot more in terms of exploring the relationship between Marty and his love interest, Clara. We spend nearly the entire second act with them on their date getting to know each other, but the challenges to their relationship feel tacked on. Thematically, there was an opportunity to make this about two lost souls who find each other, but the film wrapped up so suddenly that we, as an audience don’t have an opportunity to digest what’s happening.

Now that’s not to say that it’s all bad. It’s actually a nice little story that’s set up very well and has some elements that are expertly paid off in Paddy Chayefsky’s screenplay. We’ll get to those later, but the point that I’m getting at is that, while this is a nice film and a feel-good film and an entertaining film, I’m not sure if it’s a Best Picture-worthy film.

Marty is about a 34-year old butcher named Marty Piletti, who has been looking for a girl every Saturday night of his life, but is too shy, too fat and too ugly to find one. So he hangs out with his friends, he lives with his mother and he watches as all of his younger siblings get married and start their own families. Marty receives constant criticism from his customers, his friends and his mother that he needs to find a wife and start a family for himself. We see throughout that Marty has resigned himself to the life of a bachelor, especially when his cousin Tommy and his wife Virginia come to the house asking if Marty’s Aunt Catherine can move out of their house and in with Marty and his mother, who is Aunt Catherine’s sister. Marty agrees, much to everyone’s delight. Finally, at the behest of his mother he goes with his friend Angie to a dance hall. Angie gets a girl to dance with him, but no one wants to dance with Marty until he meets Clara. She’s not particularly attractive but he feels bad for her when guys only want to dance with her as a joke, so he asks her to dance and she reluctantly agrees.

They then spend the entire second act walking around Manhattan and talking and falling in love. They catch up with Angie, who is angry with Marty for deserting him and he gives Clara that brush off. He then takes her home so that they can have a bite to eat before he takes her home to Brooklyn since the busses run so infrequently at night. Marty’s mother comes home and she’s delighted to meet Clara until they discuss the situation with Aunt Catherine. Clara feels that it’s reasonable for Tommy and Virginia to want their own space and mothers should respect their sons’ privacy once they’re married. This progressive point of view doesn’t sit well with Marty’s mother since it means she’ll likely be kicked out of the house if these two get married. Sensing the tension in the room, Marty takes Clara home and tells her that he had such a good time that he want to see her again the next night, and she tells him that she’ll wait for his call.

Unfortunately for Marty, neither his mother nor Angie likes Clara because they each see her as a threat to take Marty away from them. This is where the film lost me because it set up for a great dramatic third act with Marty’s mother and Angie trying to convince Marty that Clara is no good for him, but ended completely abruptly with Marty telling off Angie and then going to a payphone to call Clara and ask for another date. That’s it. That’s how it ends.

It was an unfortunate ending to what was otherwise a really nice film. Ernest Borgnine won the Oscar for Best Actor for his portrayal of Marty, and it’s a worthy performance. Two years after a terrific supporting role in From Here to Eternity, Borgnine was leading an Oscar-winning film playing a character that couldn’t have been more different from the bullying, racist and sadistic Sgt. Fatso. Marty is a kind, gregarious man with a good work ethic and an even better heart. His problem is that he puts everyone else’s needs ahead of his own and that will never allow him to achieve full happiness. He’s also so afraid of getting hurt that he won’t take a chance on being happy because he thinks it’s out of his reach. Screenwriter Paddy Chayefsky and director Delbert Mann did a wonderful job of creating in Marty a hero with depth and faults that allowed him to come across as a real person to whom the rest of us could relate. He was also a character that we could root for and we honestly hope that he finds happiness with Clara in the end.

There was one other aspect of the screenplay that Chayefsky handled very well. Mrs. Piletti has wanted nothing but for Marty to find a woman that he can marry. So when he finds Clara, Mrs. Piletti should be nothing but happy with this turn of events. The problem is that wouldn’t be terribly dramatic so they needed to add an element to the story that would make Clara unacceptable to Mrs. Piletti. That aspect that they added was Clara’s progressive views on Italian mothers not living with their sons once their sons are married. This is a big problem for her, as she sees it as a threat to her well-being and her relationship with Marty. Also, by setting up the issue with Aunt Catherine and having Marty already agree to let her live with them, the stakes are raised even more. Plus, the only woman that Marty has ever had in his life is his mother and he’s pretty much done everything she’s ever asked him to do. In this way, Mrs. Piletti becomes a very effective antagonist as she is ironically the one who now stands most directly in the way of Marty being happy.

That’s why it’s such a bummer when they don’t do more to expand this story motif. The film makers did a great job of setting us up for an emotional and dramatic third act and they didn’t give it to us. And again, at 90 minutes they had plenty of time to create that third act and potentially make this one of the greatest and most memorable romantic comedies of all time. Unfortunately that’s not the direction they went, and I’m left with this film wondering what might have been. Yes, Marty won the Oscar for Best Picture, but it was largely a wasted opportunity as it could have been remembered as one of the great films of all time had they put a little more work into it. It could have been an emotional powerhouse had they given us 20 minutes of Marty struggling with what he wants versus what he thinks he wants. He thinks that he wants his life to stay the same and his mother and his best friend are guiding him to that place. What he really wants is to be happy with Clara and she wants to be with him as well. Had those forces had a better tug-of-war with a more satisfying showdown and climax, Marty could have been a film for the ages.

Did the Academy get it right?

As I mentioned in the second paragraph, I don’t view Marty as Best Picture-worthy. It was very successful and well-received the year it came out. In fact, it’s one of the most profitable films of all time. Of the films that were nominated against it, the only one I’ve seen is Mister Roberts, and I likely would have voted for that film over Marty, had I had a vote. What’s noteworthy to me, though, are the films that came out in 1955 and were not even nominated. East of Eden; Rebel Without a Cause; The Night of the Hunter; To Catch a Thief; The Seven Year Itch, and The Trouble With Harry, just to name a few. I would have voted for any or all of those films rather than Marty for Best Picture, as all of those films have taken a higher place in the film cannon. The reason for that is that they’re all better films and any of them would have been more worthy of winning Best Picture than Marty.

On the Waterfront is one of those films that has transcended time and become a part of popular culture. Who hasn’t seen Marlon Brando’s famous moment where he tells his brother Charlie, “I coulda had class! I coulda been a contender! I coulda been somebody Instead of a bum, which is what I am. Let’s face it. It was you, Charlie.” That heartbreaking moment when Terry Malloy confronts his brother Charlie over the paths their lives have taken has become one of the iconic moments in cinema history. Unfortunately, Marlon Brando became a bit of a punch line as his life drew to a close, but we need to remember that he was a power house of an actor in the 1950’s and 1960’s and films like On the Waterfront displayed his virtuosity as an actor.

Another reason that On the Waterfront is so iconic and has become a timeless classic is that it was of its time. That is to say that it was an important social commentary on what was happening to the working class of that time. People seem to look back on the 1950’s with a very Pollyanna point of view. We think of that decade as one of wholesomeness when the United States was some sort of Stepford utopia. However films like On the Waterfront took a totally different point of view as to what was going on with the working man and the conditions he was facing. This is a gritty film. There is no polish to it. There is no feeling good about what happens. Even the triumphant ending comes with a great cost. This film is in your face and forces you to take a hard look at who we are as a society and what is socially acceptable behavior. We see that making the choice to do the right thing is a lot harder than it should be and is rarely met with appropriate enthusiasm.

This is a story about Terry Malloy (Brando), a washed up prize fighter who now works as a longshoreman and is a stooge for the union. His brother Charlie (Rod Steiger) is the right hand man of the union boss Johnny Friendly (Lee J. Cobb), and a long time ago, when Terry was on the verge of a shot at the title, Charlie had to tell Terry to take a dive because Friendly was taking the action on the underdog. Now Terry is nothing more than hired muscle for Friendly and Charlie, and he’s too much of a dope to see what’s really going on. That is, until he sees Doyle get thrown off a roof after he sent him there and he only thought that Friendly’s guys were going to lean on him. Friendly runs such a corrupt operation that no one dares speak up against him. In fact, he’s created a culture where ratting out a murderer is viewed more negatively than the murder itself. Doyle was killed because he was going to talk to the crime commission about the union’s corrupt practices, and the other dock workers figured that he had it coming since he was turning stool pigeon. Even Pop Doyle is reluctant to say anything that might get him in trouble with Friendly when he knows that Friendly is behind the murder of his own son.

There is one person who isn’t going to take this sitting down, and it’s Father Barry (Karl Malden). He gets some of the disgruntled workers together at the church, along with Doyle’s sister Edie (Eva Marie Saint in her film debut), but no one wants to stand up to Friendly. Charlie sends Terry to watch the meeting and report back, but Terry seems more interested in Edie. In fact, when some thugs come and break up the meeting, Terry gets Edie safely out of there. In the commotion, Kayo Dugan is beaten up and Father Barry convinces him to talk about the corruption and that he’ll be there with him all the way down the line. But word gets out that Dugan is talking to Father Barry and he meets with a fatal “accident” on the job. Father Barry administers Last Rights and implores the other men to stand up for themselves. His impassioned speech has an effect on Terry who is starting to crack. Even though he tells Edie that his philosophy on life is to get the other guy before he gets you, he’s starting to see that he’s being used as an instrument of Friendly’s corruption.

A subpoena is delivered to Terry because he was the last one to see Doyle alive and Charlie and Friendly both know if he’s going to be D & D (deaf and dumb) or a canary. Terry is starting to fall for Edie and the words that Father Barry is telling him make a lot of sense, so he’s caught between his loyalty to Charlie and Friendly and doing what he knows is the right thing. Concerned that Terry is going to rat on them, Friendly gives Charlie an impossible choice. Charlie picks Terry up and even pulls a gun on him to try and scare him into doing the right thing by Friendly. That’s when Terry has his iconic moment with Charlie, and Charlie, to his credit, does right by Terry for the first time in his life by letting Terry go and giving him his gun. Unfortunately that act of mercy costs Terry his life.

After seeing his dead brother, Terry is bent on avenging Charlie’s death the only way he knows how. But Father Barry has a better way. He tells Terry not to sink to Friendly’s level and to get him where it will really hurt, in the court room. This is where the conflict and the thematic elements of this movie come to a head. Terry does the right thing and testifies in open court about the corruption in the union. This is something that will make the lives of all the dockworkers better. But none of them see it that way. Their world is simple and it has simple, childlike rules. One of those rules is not to tattle, and Terry breaks it and is ostracized by everyone. Friendly tells him that he’ll never get another job on the docks from Boston to New Orleans, and none of the other longshoremen seem to have his back. Edie tries to get him to move away and get work on a farm or somewhere that Friendly can’t touch them, but Terry is going to make things right. He goes to the dock to confront Friendly, and Friendly’s men beat him to a pulp. This is where the other longshoremen finally see who is really on their side. They form a union against Friendly and stand up with Terry. Terry shows what real strength is and he goes from bum to leader of men.

There is so much going on in this film, it’s hard to imagine how directory Elia Kazan and screenwriter Bud Schulberg kept it all straight. They did a wonderful job of weaving an intricate and well developed story with multiple thematic elements and stirring and dramatic cinematography. This was a black and white film but the use of lighting in critical scenes was expertly used to heighten the drama and the suspense of what was going on in the story at that moment. What was most important, however, and what they did most effectively was to give Terry in inner need and an outer need that were in conflict with each other. As Terry becomes more involved with Edie and as he listens more and more to Father Barry, Terry knows that he has to testify against Friendly. In his heart of hearts, he knows he has to do that. The problem is that Friendly is his meal ticket, or so he thinks. Friendly makes sure that Terry gets the best assignments on the docks and his brother is Friendly’s right hand man. How can he possibly be disloyal to them? Add to that the culture of looking down on stool pigeons and it’s easy to see how anyone could become conflicted.

One of the things that makes it work so well is the Hero’s Journey motif that they used. Now, The Writer’s Journey was still 40 years away from being written, and I don’t know how much Kazan studied Joseph Campbell, but there are motifs at play in On the Waterfront that fit in well with the Hero’s Journey. First off is the structure of the story. Terry is the typical hero, as mentioned above, with a strong inner conflict. Terry’s Ordinary World is shown quite clearly that he’s not only a longshoreman, but also hired muscle for the union. He gets is Call To Adventure early on in the story when he’s asked by detectives from the crime commission to testify. He Refuses the Call by telling them that he doesn’t know anything and that he won’t talk to them. He Meets the Mentor who turns out to be Father Barry, who holds the archetype of mentor throughout the story. Terry Crosses the First Threshold when he starts to hang around with Edie, the sister of the man for whose death he is partially responsible. The Tests, Allies and Enemies phase of the story occurs as Terry starts to feel the inner conflict of whether or not to testify. The Approach has Terry in the car with his brother, which leads to the Supreme Ordeal of his brother’s murder. The Reward phase shows Terry drinking in Friendly’s bar with a gun, waiting for Friendly to show up so that he can have his revenge. The Road Back section of the story is Terry testifying in court against Friendly. The old Terry dies in this scene and the new Terry shows up in the Resurrection when he goes to see Friendly and he receives the vicious beating at the hands of Friendly’s thugs. The Return with the Elixir is when Terry survives the beating and earns the respect of the other longshoremen and leads them back to the job over the protestations of Friendly.

When you have a strong hero’s journey like this one, then you have the elements to make your story timeless, and that’s what happened here. Kazan was able to create a story that had strong structure, and from that structure he was able to effectively hang the subplots and thematic elements that made this film so great. It also didn’t hurt that he had Marlon Brando at the height of his acting prowess, despite the fact that Brando was dealing with the recent death of his mother. But Brando was just the tip of the iceberg that was the cast of On the Waterfront. This was a veritable who’s who of 1950’s character actors. All of them gave among the best performances of their respective careers and the great acting helped develop the great drama and tension the filled this film. All in all, the great storytelling, beautiful cinematography, inspired acting, and magnificent direction, combined to make On the Waterfront the movie of 1954 and one of the great American cinematic experiences of the 20^th Century.

Did the Academy get it right?

Certainly a case could be made for The Caine Mutiny, but for whatever reason courtroom dramas are quite often bridesmaids and rarely brides with the Academy. They are often nominated, but rarely if ever win. Seven Brides for Seven Brothers is the type of show-stopping, big-budget musical that the Academy usually loves to reward, and is considered to be one of the great and most recognizable musicals of all time. However, the Academy went bestowed the award for Best Motion Picture to On the Waterfront, and it was the correct result. This is a film that ranks #19 on AFI’s list of the top 100 movies of all time and it was not only a great film for its day, but an important one as well. The Caine Mutiny and Seven Brides for Seven Brothers are both fine films in their respective ways, but On the Waterfront went after social issues of economics and political corruption and presented them in a way that was dramatic and entertaining and riveting. It was an entertaining film and an important film and deserved to win Best Motion Picture for 1954.

This is the first time that I had ever seen From Here to Eternity and it wasn’t exactly what I was expecting. We’ve all seen the iconic scene of Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr kissing on the beach as the wave washes over them. Then there is the nearly as iconic moment a moment later when Kerr is lying on the towel and Lancaster in all of his bare-chested manliness stands over before falling on her and passionately kissing her yet again. The thing is that there is a lot more to this movie than those two scenes. From Here to Eternity tells a complex pre-war story about loyalty to one’s self as well loyalty to others. It’s about staying true to yourself no matter what others are trying to make you do or how much pressure they put on you.

Yes, this is a love story as well, but there are two competing love stories happening in this film and one of them is rarely, if ever, mentioned. The famous love story in From Here to Eternity is the one between Sgt. Milton Warden (Lancaster) and Karen Holmes (Kerr). It’s a compelling love story because Karen is married to Captain Dana Holmes, who happens to be Warden’s superior officer. This adds a level of tension to their relationship because if they get caught, there’s a little more to it than just having an affair with your boss’s wife. If this affair is discovered, Warden could be court martialed and sentenced to 20 years of hard labor in Leavenworth. Knowing all of that, Warden is so in love with Karen and she’s so in love with him that they’re willing to risk everything in order to be together. The one problem that I have with the love story between Warden and Karen is that it starts rather abruptly. This is a complex story with many levels to it, and so not everything could get the setup that it deserved, and I was having a hard time buying that they’d get together so quickly. I wouldn’t have minded having one or two more scenes of their relationship developing, but that ultimately is a minor point. When you get right down to it, it’s one of the great love stories in the history of American cinema.

However there is a second love story in From Here to Eternity that doesn’t get nearly the notoriety of the first one, but is nearly as compelling and is also better developed. That is the love story between Private Robert E. Lee Prewitt (Montgomery Clift) and Lorene (Donna Reed). What makes this love story compelling is the passion and brooding that Clift brought to his role and the loss of innocence that Reed brought to hers. Their relationship also takes much longer to develop, as Prewitt is the sort of person who doesn’t easily let people in. In a lot of ways Prewitt and Lorene are unwilling partners, even though Prewitt clearly initiates contact with her. However, as they slowly open up to each other, we find ourselves as an audience rooting hard that they’ll find a way to be together.

So those are the love stories, but together they probably only constitute half of what is going on in this picture. The story primarily follows Prewitt as he resists Capt. Holmes urgings for him to join the company boxing team. Prewitt used to be a good boxer but he paralyzed another fighter in the ring and now he wants nothing to do with fighting anymore. No matter how much the other guys on the boxing team make his life miserable, no matter what they try to do to force him on the team, Prewitt is steadfast and resolute. His stubbornness catches the eye of Warden who develops a budding respect for this young man and his idealistic convictions. Although Warden does try to nudge Prewitt to be more reasonable, Prewitt won’t be moved and Warden respects it to the point where they two of them become friends.

There is another important subplot as well. Prewitt’s best friend Angelo Maggio (Frank Sinatra) has run afoul of Sgt. ‘Fatso’ Judson (Ernest Borgnine), who runs the stockade. Judson calls Angelo some pretty derogatory names and Angelo, being the hothead that he is, won’t take that from anyone. There is another famous scene from this film where Judson threatens Angelo with a knife while they’re in a bar and Warden comes to Angelo’s rescue by breaking a bottle on a table and fending off Judson. Unfortunately for Angelo, his hot headedness lands him in the stockade where Judson has free reign over him and the results are… well, you’ll just have to see the movie because, like any well-written screenplay, everything that happens in this film is either a result of something else in the story or has consequences later on down the line in the story. The other important thing to note is that screenwriter Daniel Taradash did an excellent job in this screenplay of building the tension and raising the stakes throughout. In fact, this film couldn’t have had a more climactic finish.

The film takes place in Hawaii in the days leading up to World War II and the attack on Pearl Harbor. In fact, there are a couple of subtle moments that foreshadow the attack, but the story is so riveting that you’re not really thinking about it until Warden and Karen leave a pier and we see a sign pointing to Pearl Harbor. As the attack begins, Prewitt is AWOL and the rest of his platoon is in the barracks. They hear explosions and figure some training exercises are going on. But something is wrong. Finally they hear someone yelling from outside that they’re under attack and we see the Japanese planes flying overhead. Warden then leads his troops into battle and the last few minutes of the film shows the men fighting the first American battle of World War II.

One thing that I noticed while watching this film was how well Taradash and director Fred Zinnemann weaved the competing storylines into one compelling story. From Here to Eternity walks a very fine line between deep and complex story and mangled up mess, but it always comes out on the right side. The film makers combined an all-star cast with fresh memories of the war that had been over for less than 10 years, and a tragic event that, at that point in our history, was still felt very sincerely by many people in this country. The scar was still there and it still stung.

There is one other point I would like to make about From Here to Eternity. I think ultimately it is the acting that put this film over the top. The performances by the actors in this picture were extraordinary, as exemplified by their success on Oscar Night. Frank Sinatra and Donna Reed won Best Supporting Actor and Actress, respectively. Both Lancaster and Clift were nominated for Best Actor, and likely split the vote in losing to William Holden for Stalag 13. Debra Kerr was nominated for Best Actress but lost to Audrey Hepburn for Roman Holiday. One thing that I noticed in From Here to Eternity is that it lacked the more over the top type of acting that was prevalent up to that point. Method Acting was starting to take hold, and Montgomery Clift was one of the major proponents of that movement. What also helped the performances was the chemistry that they all had with each other. Nothing seemed forced or coerced. It was as though we had a window into this world and what we were watching was really happening.

Thematically, as mentioned before, this is a very strong film. It covers a wide array of thematic issues and, for the most part, the people that deserve some sort of comeuppance, even the people we like, receive it.

All of those elements, the themes, the acting, the writing, the direction, combined to make From Here to Eternity a powerful and dramatic film. Audiences and critics agreed, and the film was nominated for a record 13 Oscars in 12 different categories.

Did the Academy get it right?

They certainly did get it right this year, and it was a strong year of nominees. The Robe may be just short of a classic, but it had Richard Burton and Jean Simmons, and was the type of Biblical epic that the Academy generally considers. One of my favorite scenes of all time from any film is Marlon Brando as Marc Antony giving the “Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears!” speech from Julius Caesar. Roman Holiday was one of the great romantic comedies of all time and starred Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn. Finally, Shane is one of the greatest westerns of all time and is ranked #45 on the AFI list of top 100 movies (From Here to Eternity is not on the list). However, the Academy is famous for dissing westerns, and this year was no different. That said, I still feel that From Here to Eternity is a worthy winner. It has several iconic moments that have become a part of our popular culture. It had an expertly woven story and top notch performances from some of the era’s greatest actors. A strong case could have been made for any of the other films that came out that year, and I would love to be able to see the voting results. Ultimately, however, only one film can win, and in my opinion From Here to Eternity was just as deserving as any of the other films from 1953.

I have to admit that I was a tad skeptical going into this film. I hadn’t really heard too much about it coming into this project and I had no idea what to expect, other than it would probably be some sort of spectacle. On that account, it was not disappointed, for a spectacle it was. As the name implies, The Greatest Show On Earth is about the Ringling Bros. Barnum & Bailey Circus. Charlton Heston played Brad Braden, the circus manager, and this is the role that launched him into stardom. There are plenty of other recognizable faces throughout the film, and actual circus performers played themselves. James Stewart also has a role as Buttons the Clown and he never appears on screen without his clown makeup.

What struck me about this film, and what makes it somewhat unique in American cinema annals is that it’s almost a feature film/documentary combination. There is a plot and a story involved as Braden is trying to keep the circus in the black so that they can tour for an entire season, while various love triangles and other subplots whirl around. But director Cecil B. DeMille added these documentary style interstitials about life behind the scenes in the circus and what it takes to erect the big top and what it takes to break it down. There is narration over the documentary footage and the narrator constantly reminds us that one mistake on the part of the circus workers could mean death for a performer. The footage is raw and gives the viewer a sense of what this lifestyle is like and the type of person that it takes to live it. It accurately shows that the circus is not glamorous. It’s hard work, it’s a nomadic lifestyle and danger is never far away for anyone.

The fact that this exposition is given to us at various stages throughout the film certainly helps to keep the stakes high. That is necessary because the story itself isn’t terribly interesting. It isn’t bad by any stretch, but there isn’t anything particularly special about the story. It involves love triangles, a fugitive from justice and one man’s struggle to keep the business operating and on the level. When we first meet Braden, he’s at the circus’ off season headquarters in Sarasota, Florida getting ready to start the tour. He’s told by the board of directors that they’re only going to be hitting the big cities because they can’t afford to take the losses they usually incur by going to all of the small towns. Braden tells them that they will be doing a full season because he’s acquired The Great Sebastian, the most famous trapeze artists in the world, and having him attached to the circus will allow them to sell enough tickets even in the small towns to be able to go on a full tour. The board reluctantly agrees, and allows him to go on a full tour but only if he can keep the whole thing in the black. The problem for him is that The Great Sebastian only works in the Center Ring and he had previously promised the Center Ring to Holly, his would-be girlfriend. This is worth talking about for a moment because it instantly adds conflict to one of the core relationships in the film. Braden is the film’s main character and Holly is the love interest and before we even see them on screen together, they’re in conflict. This relationship ends up being one of the strengths of the film as Holly wants nothing more than to have Braden open his heart to her, but he lives and breathes the circus. This is especially so now due to his mandate to keep the circus in the black in order for them to be able to continue to tour. But when Braden can’t or won’t open up to her, Holly seems to turn her affections towards The Great Sebastian.

The Great Sebastian arrives with great fanfare and Holly is at first determined to push him out of the Center Ring so that she can claim what she feels in rightly hers. What ensues is each of them upping the stakes on the trapeze to the point where they’re risking their lives every time they go up there which inevitably leads to a fall. However it is Sebastian who takes the fall, and Holly is so guilt-ridden that Sebastian will apparently never fly again, as well as the fact that Braden seem to have “saw dust running through his veins” that she leaves him to care for Sebastian. This is another strong suit of the film and a source of good conflict. The love triangle that is between Braden, Holly and Sebastian pits conflicting personalities against each other. Braden is blue-collar, by the book and hard working. Sebastian is a flamboyant, womanizing showman. In fact, Sebastian hits the nail on the head when he says to Holly, “I think you have star dust mixed up with sawdust.” It’s perfect subtext explaining the choice she has to make between Sebastian and Braden, and it makes for a strong conflict that is effectively paid off in the end, also in a unique way.

There are a number of subplots throughout the story as well, and they’re all effectively interwoven into the plot. The most prominent subplot has to do with Buttons the Clown, and it’s effectively revealed throughout the course of the story in a way that is instructive for aspiring screenwriters. We learn early on that Buttons never takes off his makeup. We then learn that he’s on the run. We learn later that he’s on the run from the law. A little while later we learn that he was once a doctor. Finally we find out that he’s on the run from the law for killing his wife and he’s been masquerading as a clown in the circus to keep from going to jail. This is instructive for aspiring screenwriters (and professional screenwriters as well) because it keep us interested in Buttons as a character. DeMille and screenwriters Frederic M. Frank, Barre Lyndon and Theodore St. John expertly controlled the flow of information by revealing only what we needed to know when we needed to know it. There was a shroud of mystery around Buttons that took nearly the entire length of the film to reveal. That keeps the character interesting and the audience engaged, and is a much more effective way of storytelling than revealing the information too quickly. It’s also instructive because every moment they gave another clue about Buttons was in a manner that moved the story forward. In that regard, Buttons’ reveals were more than just character moments, but they were important story moments as well.

There is also another love interest as well. Angel, the elephant rider (played by Gloria Grahame, who many will recognize as Violet from It’s a Wonderful Life) has had a previous affair with Sebastian and still has some feelings for him. However, she also has feelings for Braden and is only too ready to move in on him when Holly chooses to be with Sebastian. This draws the ire of the elephant trainer, Klaus, who sees himself as the man for Angel. In a jealous rage, he goes so far as to nearly have one of the elephants nearly crush Angel during a performance until Braden steps in and stops it. Braden throws Klaus out of the circus, which connects Klaus to yet another subplot involving keeping the circus on the level. Braden finds that one of the carnies is running a dishonest game and has a band of pickpockets working the circus grounds. He throws the carny out and he eventually hooks up with Klaus and they plan on robbing the train together to get back at Braden. This unholy alliance leads to the climax of the story where all of the subplots are paid off, for good or for bad.

Over all The Greatest Show on Earth had a better story than I was expecting it to have. It has several subplots interwoven that all pay off by the end of the film. It has good character development that also helps drive the story. It isn’t a spectacular story. It isn’t an overly dramatic story, but it’s an adequate story when you combine it with the spectacle of the rest of the production.

Finally, this film was a spectacle. Much like the previous year’s An American in Paris, the Academy went with the big, glitzy show about a show. This is the type of big movie that Hollywood loved in the fifties. There was a cavalcade of stars. It was huge in its scope and it combined what were the two most popular forms of entertainment at the time. I think that is what ultimately won this film the Oscar for Best Motion Picture. It was more than a movie. It was a Production. I would stop short of calling it epic, but it wasn’t far away from that type of idea. It was also in color, and that technical advance, which surely helped An American in Paris in the eyes of the voters the year before, couldn’t have hurt the chances of The Greatest Show on Earth.

Did the Academy get it right?

Even with all of that said, I’m still inclined to say no. I would have voted for High Noon had I had a vote for 1952. While not as complex a production as The Greatest Show on Earth, High Noon was a serious film that was much stronger from a thematic standpoint. Also, the simpler storyline allowed for a much more dramatic film. The ticking clock was ever present and the closer it got to striking noon, the more tense the story became. Instead of taking place in multiple locations over a series of weeks, High Noon takes place over the course of a single morning in one town. There are fewer characters to keep track of, and everyone knows what’s going to happen when the clock strikes twelve. High Noon also ranks number 33 on the AFI list of the top 100 movies of all time. The Greatest Show on Earth is not on the list. Unfortunately for High Noon, however, it’s a Western, and Westerns rarely get love from the Academy. It was also shot in black and white, and as mentioned earlier, even though color films had been getting made for 15 years, it was still somewhat of a novelty because the vast majority of films were still in black and white. A spectacle like The Greatest Show on Earth could stand out even more by being in color. Another color film from 1952 that’s worth a second look is The Quiet Man directed by John Ford and starring John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara. Unfortunately for The Quiet Man, it’s a romantic comedy, and those barely get more love from the Academy than Westerns do. But it’s a very entertaining film that I possibly would have voted for as well over The Greatest Show on Earth. Ultimately, however, I can’t begrudge the Academy for making this selection. It’s not a bad movie in the least. In fact, it’s actually quite good, and the size and scope of it make it a worthy winner. Ultimately, however, it’s lackadaisical and meandering plot make it somewhat more forgettable than perhaps it deserves to be.

The first thought that came into my mind when I finished watching An American in Paris was, “How the hell did this movie win Best Picture?!” More on that later, but it is something to keep in mind. The fourth musical to win Best Picture, An American in Paris had some dance numbers that rivaled The Great Ziegfeld in terms of production and entertainment value, but the story wasn’t nearly as compelling. This certainly was an entertaining film, but the story and the characters were very thin. In fact, I would liken An American in Paris to many of the action films of today. That is to say that, similarly to a modern-day action thriller, it seems to me that the story in An American in Paris serves mainly to get us from one dance number to the next. Overall the story is thin and the characters are shallow. The relationships have no chemistry and the movie has very little spine.

Okay, now that that’s out of the way, let me give you my reasons for feeling the way I do. Let’s start with the premise. This is a movie about an American ex-patriot, Jerry Mulligan (Gene Kelly) living as a painter in Paris. He happens to fall in love with Lise Bouvier (Leslie Caron), the girlfriend of a mutual friend, but she won’t tell him why they always have to sneak around. Meanwhile, Milo Roberts (Nina Foch), an American woman has taken an interest in Jerry’s art as well as in Jerry as a person. Between dance numbers, we follow them all around Paris as their relationships become more complicated and until a resolution must finally be reached. The most frustrating thing about the premise for me is that it’s actually quite strong. This is actually a set up for what should be a very dramatic and emotionally charged story.

So what happened?

I think what happened was the songs and dance numbers got in the way. Let me say this: I am a fan of musicals. However, there are certain things that a musical needs to do in its music and that is advance the story. If the song and/or dance number doesn’t do anything to advance the story, then it shouldn’t be in there. I mentioned The Great Ziegfeld earlier. That to me was a successful musical because the musical numbers served multiple purposes. They showed the varying successes and struggles of the Ziegfeld Follies and they showed what was going on inside Ziegfeld’s head. That is to say that they showed how his ego and his psyche were affecting what he put on the stage. There are many other musicals you can look at, and there will be quite a few in upcoming blogs, where the songs not only show the mental state of the character, but they actually move the story forward. I could be talked in to conceding that the song and dance numbers in An American in Paris do at times adequately show the emotional states of the individual characters, but they rarely advance the story.

It made me think about another Gene Kelly musical that I actually love. In fact many people love Singin’ in the Rain. It’s number 10 on the AFI list of top 100 movies (An American in Paris is #68), and it has some of the most iconic songs and numbers in the history of American cinema. But the songs and dance numbers in Singin’ in the Rain propel the story forward. All of them either do that or give some insight to the emotional state of the individual characters. I look at An American in Paris and there is none of that.

Now please don’t get me wrong. I have the utmost respect for much of what they did in this film. I have total appreciation for the talent that it took to choreograph and perform the numbers. Vincente Minnelli’s direction and Alfred Gilks’ cinematography, especially during the dance scenes, are impeccable. The production design and art direction allowed us to feel like we were immersed in Paris in a way that must have been challenging at the time, considering the entire film was shot on a sound stage. I understand that a tremendous amount of talent went in to the making of this picture. I am just of the opinion that the musical numbers can’t exist in a vacuum. You can’t have musical numbers for their own sake, and that’s what has happened in An American in Paris. The dance numbers, especially the last one (more on that later), were too self-indulgent to serve the picture as a whole.

To me, the biggest problem with An American in Paris comes from the characters. Yes, the story is thin, but it’s thin because the characters are equally as shallow. There are two likable characters in this film. One is Jerry’s friend Adam Cook (Oscar Levant), a song writer who writes songs for Henri Baurel, the man to whom Lise eventually becomes engaged. The other is Milo, and I don’t think we’re supposed to particularly like her. At the very least we’re not supposed to root for her and Jerry to end up together, which is clearly what she wants. We’re supposed to root for Jerry and Lise to end up together. However, it is Milo who opens herself up to Jerry. Lise doesn’t want anything to do with Jerry at first. And with good reason. It’s because she already has a serious boyfriend! Now look, I know what you’re thinking. That’s where the drama is. It’s like a love triangle. Here’s the problem. Henri is a terrific guy. He helped Lise out and practically saved her life when she was young. Now she’s going to reward him by sneaking around and seeing some American on the side? We’re supposed to like this woman?

Jerry does remain somewhat likable because he at least doesn’t know for most of the film that she’s seeing someone else. However, she is very sneaky about where they can go and whom they can see. It takes him a long time to become suspicious and I feel that that causes him to lose a lot of his sympathy. The other problem with Jerry is that he keeps Milo at arm’s length. It is certainly understandable, as Milo does throw herself at him when they barely know each other, and that can certainly be off putting. But she is offering him and incredible opportunity to show his work in a gallery when he hasn’t even been able to sell paintings on the street. She gives him the opportunity of a lifetime and he won’t even give her the time of day. In fact, I think Jerry loses the audience right away when he openly flirts with Lise in a club to which Milo has taken him. This is especially true since we’ve already been introduced to Lise as Henri’s girlfriend. The character we feel for and empathize with in this scene is Milo. She’s the one who is embarrassed and mistreated by Jerry. She definitely doesn’t deserve the treatment she gets from him.

From that point, we are supposed to root for Jerry and Lise to end up together. Personally, it doesn’t work for me. Our introduction to their relationship completely took me out of the film. I had no emotional attachment to the characters and thus no emotional engagement in the story.

The lack of caring about the characters is bound to have a negative impact on the story. Since we don’t care about the characters, we don’t necessarily care about what they’re doing in the story. Compound that with the fact that the dance numbers continue to take the audience even farther out of the story, and your left with a disengaged audience. In fact, I consciously found myself disengaged a mere ten minutes in to the film. That doesn’t mean I stopped paying attention or that I completely disliked it. In fact, there are some individual scenes that are quite entertaining. The scene where Adam finds out that Jerry and Henri are both in love with the same girl is very funny. In what might be the strongest connection of song and story in the film, Jerry and Henri sing about how great it is to be in love, neither one knowing that they’re both singing about the same girl, as Adam pouts in his brandy. It’s a thoroughly entertaining scene that has several laugh out loud moments.

Ultimately, however, this is a film that is less than the sum of its parts. The dance scenes are well choreographed and entertaining. There are individual scenes and performances that work very well as individual scenes and performances. However there is no spine holding the story together and there is no depth to make us care. The coup de gras of this film is the 17-minute dance number at the end of the film that encapsulates everything that is right and everything that is wrong with this picture. After telling Jerry that she and Henri are going to get married the next day, Lise leaves Jerry on top of a roof where a masquerade ball is happening in the room below. Henri hears their conversation, and sadly drives Lise away. Jerry then imagines himself and Lise in all of the places in Paris, and some in America. It’s not totally dissimilar in style and tone to the Gotta Dance! sequence in Singin’ in the Rain. There are a ton of extras and various sets and musical and costume changes. The entire sequence took a month to shoot and it serves as the climax to the film. Again, the dancing is beautiful. Leslie Caron shows her true talent as a ballerina and practically steals the scene from Kelly on a number of occasions. The sets and dancing are dynamic. The choreography is top-notch. The production value is as high as it could be.

Here’s the problem. It shows Jerry as an ineffectual hero. It’s all a fantasy of him dreaming about what his life would be like with Lise. Warning: Spoiler Alert! Then Lise shows back up when the dream is over because Henri has brought her back. Jerry has done nothing on his own to win her back. He didn’t pound on the glass of the church, a-la Ben Braddock in The Graduate. He didn’t fight for the right to be with her, a-la John Prentice in Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner. He wished for her to come back and she came back.

He didn’t deserve her.

Did the Academy get it right?

As you may have surmised by now, I believe that the answer is no, and I’m not alone. According to IMDB, An American in Paris was named as one of the “20 most overrated movies of all time” by Premier. And although I wouldn’t agree with every film they have on that list, I would certainly agree with this one. It isn’t a great film in my opinion, and it certainly didn’t deserve to beat either A Place in the Sun or A Streetcar Named Desire for Best Picture. Both of those films were emotionally powerful with characters that you could relate to and root for or against. Either way, you cared about all of the principal characters in both of those films in a way that you never came close to caring about the characters in An American in Paris. A Streetcar Named Desire had Marlon Brando at the absolute height of his animal magnetism. Vivien Leigh, in her other signature role as Blanche brought a level of pathos to the screen that bordered on hypnotic. That was a film that you could not take your eyes off of. Similarly, A Place in the Sun starred Elizabeth Taylor and Montgomery Clift as a would-be beautiful couple, if not for Clift’s terrible secret that would ultimately lead to a tragic ending. I remember seeing that film for the first time and being incredibly moved by the emotion in it as it’s a story about a man who starts with nothing, then tricks his way in to everything only to lose it all. And yet, you root for him because he’s an “every man.” I would have voted for either of those two films above An American in Paris. Both were more deserving and both were better films.