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Thursday, July 7, 2011

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Scandals of Classic Hollywood: Marlon Brando's Dirty Dungarees

Forget what you know about Marlon Brando. Forget Vito Corleone, forget cotton-balls-stuffed-in-cheeks, forget the unspeakable things involving butter in Last Tango in Paris. Forget the obscured, bald specter of Apocalypse Now, and certainly forget the hulking embarrassment of Superman. Wipe your memory clean and just f-ing look at this man.

This was Brando at the height of his powers, when his approach to acting challenged Hollywood’s concept of performance, and the way he lived was an affront to the entire industry. This was when something burned behind his eyes, when his entire body seemed to undulate with energy like a live wire in search of a socket. This is when you could not take your eyes off him, when the alchemy of his physical and emotive presence threatened to burn through the film on which it was printed.

Despite never entering into a long-term studio contract or having the benefit of publicity “Fixers,” Brando was never embroiled in a single large-scale scandal — unless, that is, you count doubling your weight, retreating to your own South Pacific island, sending a Native American to accept your Academy Award, or having three children with your housekeeper scandalous.

But that was all Middle and Late Stage Brando. Early Brando, or Hot Brando, as I like to call him, was never thrown in jail like Robert Mitchum or denounced on the floor of the senate like Ingrid Bergman. Like his contemporary Marilyn Monroe (just wait, that piece is totally coming), he didn’t break societal rules so much as bend them. In this way, Brando not only changed what audiences expected of a “good performance” onscreen, but the type of behavior they’d accept off it.

* * *

The beginnings of Brando’s career are well known. After studying The Method with Stella Adler at The New School, he appeared in some bad plays that earned him some good notices. As famed New Yorker film critic Pauline Kael would recall years later, the first time she saw him on stage,

... I looked up and saw what I thought was an actor having a seizure onstage. Embarrassed for him, I lowered my eyes, and it wasn’t until the young man who’d brought me grabbed my arm and said, "Watch this guy!" that I realized he was acting.

That. That is what I’m talking about.

After receiving tremendous critical acclaim for his role in Tennessee Williams’ A Streetcar Named Desire, Brando moved to Hollywood to appear as a paraplegic in The Men. The plan was to show Hollywood what was up and then blow town, giving the movie colony the finger on the way back to Broadway.

Brando never made it back to the stage, but he never changed his attitude towards Hollywood. He wore his opprobrium on his sleeve, refusing to make friends with the gossip columnists or submit to interviews with the fan magazines. His wore “dirty dungarees,” which is to say JEANS, IN PUBLIC, ALL THE TIME. A Photoplay article scornfully described his “habitual costume of Levis, a t-shirt, and moccasins without socks,” which really just sounds like Your Dad, but when most stars were still rocking high-waisted and finely tailored trousers, this was a big deal.

Brando didn’t care about money. His “apartments change but never vary; one room with a bed that is rarely made up, a chest of drawers about as empty as his closet.” in 1951, he ran an advertisement in the Saturday Review of Literature: ‘Apartment Wanted – Any Old Thing.’”

He didn’t like “glamour girls” or Hollywood starlets, driving them “slightly crazy because he ignores them.” Instead, he preferred “girls he meets at drama classes and in offices.” (Which is another way of saying that he wants to take all of Hairpin on a date, amiright?)

He loved to play the bongos and marimbas, he hung out with black people who were not named Sammy Davis Jr., and he proclaimed his best friend to be a raccoon. He was “known to make an entire meal out of a jar of peanut butter.”

In other words, he operated in a completely different circle than the Hollywood elite. In today’s terms, he was at the dive bar drinking High Life unironically while the rest of the stars was getting bottle service at a night club named something like “Pure.” He did not give a shit — or, more precisely, he did not give a shit about toeing the line of what a star should be and how one should behave. When asked to pose for the cover of Life magazine, he answered “Why would I want to do that?”

Yet during this period, Brando appeared in a series of films that made it impossible for the industry to ignore him. He smoldered, abused, and tore his shirt in the film version of Streetcar (1951), donned full “brown face” as Mexican Revolutionary Emiliano Zapata in Viva Zapata! (1952), proved he could do Shakespeare as Marc Antony in Julius Caesar (1953), helped codify the leather biker look and teen rebelliousness in The Wild One (1953), and wore the shit out of a longshoreman’s jacket in On the Waterfront (1954).

He earned four Oscar nominations in as many years, finally winning for On the Waterfront. (There are some hilarious pictures of him all polished up on on Oscar Night and posing with Best Actress Grace Kelly, who looks like she might be vaguely allergic to him.)

In these films, Brando’s performances made people feel something I don’t think we quite understand, as the vast majority of us have grown up with actors who either adhere to The Method (Robert De Niro, Daniel Day-Lewis, Meryl Streep, Christian Bale, Sean Penn) or bastardize aspects of it to “go ugly” and win an Oscar (Charlize Theron, Nicole Kidman).

But back in the early ‘50s, Brando was operating on an entirely different level than everyone around him — kinda like LeBron before he betrayed the entire state of Ohio, Blake Lively when she was still a Sister of Traveling Virginity-Losing Pants, or Kanye when he was the sixth headliner at the Sasquatch Music Festival in 2004 and you got too drunk on vodka you’d smuggled in using plastic ziplocs shoved into your bikini bottoms and all you can remember is Kanye strutting across stage in a purple sequined suit yelling JESUS WALKS WITH MEEE!!!!!, but bygones.

Point is, Kanye ruled that festival, and Brando ate those films for breakfast.

Take, for example, his role in On the Waterfront. You’ve heard the “I coulda been a contender” monologue, which is great, sure, but what’s better is the way he interacts with his love interest, played by Eva Marie Saint.

He puts on her little white glove! I DIE! Then he tells her she was a hideous braces monster when she was younger but wins her over with “I just mean to tell ya that ya grew up very nice.” [!!!!!]

What Brando does with Saint over the course of the film is subtle but spectacular: A woman made of Catholicism, shrillness, pointy edges, and buttoned up jackets becomes sexy before our eyes.

Part of the transformation can be credited to good directing, lighting, costuming, etc., but as Brando falls in love with her, the way he looks at her — all lusty with those eyelids that fold over on themselves — somehow becomes the way we look at her.

Now, if Brando had just been talented, he’d most likely have stayed on the stage. mainstream Hollywood supports many things, but serious, experimental art has not historically one of them.

But as evidenced so thoroughly above, Brando was also spectacularly, ruinously handsome. And while he certainly inspired no small amount of teen squeals, he was no teen idol. He left that job to James Dean, who was busy mimicking the Brando scowl and mumble. Crucially, Dean was also more accessible to girls still ambivalent enough about actual sex that they want their objects of affection feminine-faced and shiny, looking like they’ve just come from a facial and an eyebrow wax. (See also Zac Efron, young Leonardo DiCaprio, and David Cassidy.)

Brando, however, was the kind of handsome that gives grown women shivers, with a sort of physical imprint that lingers in the back of your head and dreams for days. Sixteen-year-old me saw nothing in Brando; 30-year-old me sees everything.

That everything, of course, is sex. Hedda Hopper called him “Hollywood’s New Sex Boat,” recounting how, when she mentioned his name over coffee, it “instantly spread over my living room like a flash fire. ‘Marlon Brando? He’s exciting! Marlon Brando! He’s coarse, he’s vulgar! Marlon Brando, he’s male!

INDEED, HEDDA’S COFFEE CLATCH. Brando was male, and it made people feel something funny in their bathing suit parts. More importantly, he seemed to represent the working class male — in part because the roles that made him famous were so clearly marked as such (Stanley Kowalski, road biker, longshoreman) but also because the way he comported himself off the screen so precisely matched that image, all dirty dungarees and motorcycles and t-shirts rolled over the biceps.

Of course, the fetishization of the working class male has a long history, spanning from Walt Whitman’s exclamation points all the way to Ryan’s wife beaters in The O.C. Working class guys build things! With their hands! They will then TOUCH YOU with those hands, all lusty and man-like! And the 1950s, like today, were filled with anxiety over the feminized male, the desk-bound husband, and Momism, rendering this type of man tremendously appealing.

The gossip industry obviously had no idea how to process Brando. After years of spoon-feeding readers pablum from the studios about family Christmases and chaperoned dates, it was like People magazine trying to explain Lady Gaga to the minivan majority.

But Brando, for all of his iconoclasm, understood that shunning publicity was publicity in and of itself. In the early 1950s, he could manipulate the studio as savvily as any studio star, he simply played the game by entirely different rules, with no coach, personal trainer, or real teammates to assist him.

Which is all to say that Brando was the first of a new brand of stars, and his success would encourage others, including pot-smoking Mitchum, to take their careers and publicity into their own hands, or at least out of the studio's hands and into those of an agent who could then be subject to the star’s personal demands. It was a new calculus of control, with the balance of power swinging from the studios to the talent.

On the surface, this seems like a great idea. The classic studio system could be feudal and exploitative, and no one would have given Jim Carrey $20 million for Bruce Almighty.

But as Andre Bazin and other writers for the Cahiers du Cinema recognized, there was a certain genius to the classic system. The efficiency with which films were made, the guidelines and budgets to which the directors, producers, and writers were forced to hew, and the immaculate constraint of star images resulted in more spectacular films, more great films, more good films, and far fewer Transformers 2 films.

The genius, then, sprung from control: Give me a million dollars and no deadline to write my next scandal piece for Hairpin and I’ll turn in something two years from now that basically recites “I Love You Ryan Gosling Take Off Your Shirt.” Have me do it for free with only the promise of personal glory, and I’ll give you something with esoteric adjectives, turns of phrase, and jokes concerning my home state — plus I’ll turn it in on time, every time.

Same goes for the stars. With effectively no oversight and enormous demand for his services, Brando began to indulge: in women, in food, in his own vanity. The films after On the Waterfront are successively more bloated and embarrassing, and a 1957 New Yorker profile, written by Truman Capote, made it clear that Brando was not just a jackass but perhaps also a dilettante. And it’s completely heartbreaking.

The true scandal, in the end, was that a talent so promising would so predictably succumb to his own hubris. Brando’s decline was far more tragic than any illicit affair or recreational drug use, as it betrayed what fame and adulation could do to the actual bodies and psyches that compose our popular images. Indeed, for all Brando’s gravitas in The Godfather and Last Tango in Paris, both performances lack the vibrance and vitality of his work in the early ‘50s. Instead, they seem to spring from a well of of shame and despair, appealing for the audience to mourn an ideal of masculinity gone to seed.

Brando had an entire generation’s desire pulsing under his finger. But the lesson, it seems, is that no one can wield such power on his own. Not a king, not a movie star, not even a brilliant actor in dirty dungarees.

Previously: Lana Turner, Sweater Girl Gone Bad.

Anne Helen Petersen is a Doctor of Celebrity Gossip. No, really. You can find evidence (and other writings) here.



125 Comments / Post A Comment

Chris Grier@twitter

Not to be a metaphor-ruiner, but it wouldn't really be a live wire until it was plugged into the socket. Unless the other end was plugged in somewhere else. But why would you do that? Are you saying Brando was that kinda crazy? OK, I get that.

But wait. If the other end was in fact plugged in and LIVE!, the unplugged end looking for the socket would be the "female" end, as the electricians say. So ... you'd have it just kinda bumping into the wall, like a seal nudging a beach ball in a marine park. Or something.

I think this heat wave is making me weird.

brad

@Chris Grier@twitter - perhaps she meant socket in the loosest meaning- as in, and this just happened to me, when your wiring a fan in hot, and you jam the housing into the wires and the resulting explosion of sparks is nothing compared to the arc shooting between your hand and the wires, then perhaps you should have...oh...i forget now.

Anne Helen Petersen

@brad i endorse both of these interpretations.

raised amongst catalogs

He was “known to make an entire meal out of a jar of peanut butter.” --> That is my manfriend, seriously. P.S. That last photo of Brando? Holy smolder. Good heavens. Gracious!

fondue with cheddar

@vanillawaif YEAH...that photo certainly made me feel funny in my bathing suit parts.

Mrs. Brown's Lovely Daughter

Yeah um.. I can't look at it for more than a few seconds at a time because HOLY CRAP.

troubleminx

UGH, MY BOO. Marlon is my favorite person in all of Old Hollywood (and new Hollywood, really) and I love this column. THANK YOU FOR COMBINING THEM.

Rookie (not the magazine) (not that there's anything wrong with that)

@LauraMac I was going to comment and say something that would basically sound exactly like this.
Brando was just so... I don't know. Everything.

workerbee

I just set this last photo as my work desktop. Not Safe for Work indeed. Hey Brando, I'm in an Office! Come get me.............. let's go to your messy apartment... I like peanut butter!!! You can like..ignore me and stuff.

winchesterwolcott

@bcfol440 I just printed it out and stuck it to my computer screen. I hate Excel anyway.

Alisondelune

@bcfol440 I'd like to see a flipbook of the transition from Hot Marlon to Paunchy Marlon.

no way

You are apparently writing these for personal glory, Anne. They are magnificent.

Noelle O'Donnell

@no way Seconded. I just forwarded this to all my friends who love Old Hollywood and/or Marlon Brando.

Gnatalby

Wow, that last picture makes me realize how much Christian from Clueless (Justin Walker IRL) looked like Brando, hot damn!

I love Brando's housing requirements, they are so similar to mine.

one cow.

@Gnatalby Carpe Diem! You looked hot in it!

kaydeel

@Gnatalby What's with you, kid? You think the death of Sammy Davis left an opening in the Rat Pack?

becky@twitter

@Gnatalby question, is the jacket james dean or jason priestly?

boom

"I coulda been SOMEBODY." That line gets me every time. Watched an interview once comparing Brando and James Dean. The interviewee claimed that the death of Dean left Brando as the king of The Method, allowing him to rest on his laurels. He argued that if Dean hadn't died, we would have seen much better work from Brando.

LastMinuteLulu

OMG, is it weird that I got to that last picture and thought, "HOLY SMOKES, MEEEEEOW!... Ewwwwww, what is that ring he's wearing?" I hate it when men wear gaudy rings like that (or any kind of ring on their pinky finger).

That marimba picture still slays me though.

LaurenL

@LastMinuteLulu Ahhhh, I had that exact reaction. "Smoldering ... take me home big boy ... wait, what's that on his finger?! Ugh. Take it off. But keep smoking because while the actual smell turns me off I like the idea of it."

Mrs. Brown's Lovely Daughter

@LastMinuteLulu There was a ring?

renee

@LaurenL He is wearing that ring since this picture is from the movie A STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE(possibly a photoshoot)in which he was married .So he didn't really have much of a choice.

LastMinuteLulu

@renee That's a wedding ring?! Blech.

melis

I think the most disturbing thing about this piece is that Pauline Kael's instinctual reaction to someone having a seizure was to feel embarrassed for them and close her eyes. Even for the fifties, that's awfully repressive.

shannonmkennedy@twitter

I didn't get the whole Brando thing... until we watched Streetcar in my high school English class. Damn, did that light go on above my head in the "Hey, Stella" staircase scene.

Holy god, this is why I'm attracted to damaged, volatile men, isn't it? DAMN YOU TENNESSEE WILLIAMS & MARLON BRANDO!

chapstick-please

I adore these, but why hasn't there been mention of his traipsing with the male sex?

shenannies

@chapstick-please I was waiting for that part too. The picture of him in flagrante delicto with another man? Worth seeing.

brista128

@chapstick-please Has this happened?!?!

Katie Ritter

Oh goodness. I've been in love with this man since I saw Guys & Dolls about twelve years ago at age ten. Which, in retrospect, seems like such an odd choice of movie for him. Do you think he and Sinatra were friends? Oh to eat peanut butter, play cards and smoke something with those two men.

becky@twitter

@Katie Ritter i'd turn christian and volunteer for the salvation army if it meant i'd have a shot with young brando.

Saiko

Still holding out hope that quantum physics can somehow make it possible for me to have a three-way with Brando and Liz Taylor in the '50s

forrealz

Beautifully written.
That "oh my actual god" photo is making me want to smoke (among other things).

Rosebudddd

Great piece! I too love that scene with Eva Marie Saint where she drops her glove and he picks it up and puts it on his hand. I believe that bit was totally improvised. He's magnetic all the way through that movie.

AndreaEssEmm

Thank you for this. I'm currently struggling through a crazy-busy day at work, and that last photo of Mr. Brando just perked me right up, along with renewing my lust for life in general. Wow!

atipofthehat

Taking all of the Hairpin on a date is a thing...?!

QuiteAmiable

@atipofthehat Yes. And we will all split the check.

atipofthehat

@QuiteAimable

I already whispered to the waiter and gave him my card. Can the next one be on the Hairpin?

QuiteAmiable

@atipofthehat I have no authority, but I will say yes, mostly because I just really need to go a date.

becky@twitter

this clip will always make my bathing suit area tingly: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S1A0p0F_iH8

I think James Franco's best friend is a raccoon.

jacqueline
jacqueline

I hate to say it, but I'm getting an Andy Samberg vibe in the maracas photo. (Not that I don't think Andy Samberg is hot, but in a very, very different way than Brando.)

Anne Helen Petersen

@jacqueline Totally agree re: maracas. When he was smiling he seemed like a bit of a different person. There's also this adorable picture of him with a cat -- how did I not figure out a way to put that in the piece? http://www.photographersgallery.com/i/full/brando_w_cat.jpg

jacqueline
jacqueline

@Anne Helen Petersen Ahhh! I wanna come back in the next life as that cat.

dorkydebutante

@jacqueline LOL. He does look like Andy Samberg in that picture! I think it's the goofy smile. (Also, maracas.)

She was a retail whore

@jacqueline I scrolled back up, and I totally see it, too. Wow. This is making me rethink Andy Samburg. Thanks a lot, jacqueline!

gfrancie

Fantastic piece. When Brando was on, it was like being in a lightning storm.
Plus from a purely animalistic standpoint, that man was more than sex on a stick. He was a full on sex buffet. I would have been up for several helpings.

NormaDesmond

"Sixteen-year-old me saw nothing in Brando; 30-year-old me sees everything."

I am SO SO SO glad that I am not alone in this. I had a friend who looooooooved Brando when we were in high school, where I got 15 kinds of steamy for Cary Grant, and then, like a year ago, the Brando thing clicked and OH MY ACTUAL GOD could not sum it up better. OH MY ACTUAL GOD.

notandersoncooper

One of my favorite rites of passage into the groovy person club was learning to do Brando. I wasn't great but I got enough essence of the "contendah" speech and I can still recite that Napoleonic code thing from Streetcar.

dg
dg

Seriously, just marry me. We can live in the 1940s in our apartment.

Also you totally convinced me to check out Hollywood Babylon and it is fucking AMAZING. Loves loves loves it.

anti

@Anne Helen
Girl, this series is GREAT! I have been reading Hairpin on RSS and this article made me come out, create an account and tell you this. Keep up the astounding work.

reclusivewanker

I love this series! And also Brando!

I think he was the inspiration for Paul Newman's persona in Hud.

Piegasm

I just finished Last Tango in Paris while eating peanut butter out of the jar in honor of this article. Day complete!

Melissa Von Rocksaton@facebook

I was converted by Streetcar--being simultaneously turned on and freaked out really does it for my lady bits, apparently.

dividingday

My voice teacher went on a date or two with Brando back when she was in Julliard and before he was famous. She said he was vulgar, that he reminded her of a trucker, and that he seemed to think he was God's gift to women. She ended up marrying a man who made her tea every morning for the rest of his life, so I guess it worked out for her...

But oh, man...On the Waterfront was the first movie that made me understand the power of cinema. And I certainly wouldn't say no to a date or two with the man, even if he wasn't the marrying kind.

PatriciaPepoire

I am not a big fan of brando. I saw streetcar in high school and it did nothing for me, probably because I hated every character in the play. I will say that I couldn't stop watching Last Tango in Paris, even the boring, angsty part after the butter and before the end. He was pretty hard to look away from, in an aging formerly charismatic but is now sad and pathetic way. I can see what you mean in your comparison of old and young brando.

Side note, chuck bass from gossip girl totally tried to be brando when he was faking amnesia in Paris last season.

ChelsPenny

@Anne Helen-This is one of the best series on the hairpin (although they are all great!) I wish it was a weekly or even daily series!

Zo@twitter

This is just one smashing piece of writing.You are *very* good. Not to mention absolutely correct about Brando.

ghoffman@twitter

I totally thought the same about the maracas and Samberg... that's so bizarre

Cajun Boy

I thought this was going to be a story about Marlon Brando crapping his pants.

Katie Conn@facebook

Can we do Paul Newman next, please? He's just as handsome as Brando, except he stayed with his wife, devoted his later years to charity work, and he never got fat.

She was a retail whore

@Katie Conn@facebook Didn't he stay with the wife that he first left and divorced somebody else for? Props for the length of that second marriage, but let's not forget about his first wife...

clipse

Oh my gawwwd, Marlon Brando. What a man. I'm positively sweating over here.

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john1234

I think the most disturbing thing about this piece is that Pauline Kael's instinctual reaction to someone having a seizure was to feel embarrassed for them and close her eyes. Even for the fifties, that's awfully repressive. Gatwick Parking

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Brando not only changed what audiences expected of a “good performance” onscreen, but the type of behavior they’d accept off it.Kile

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South Pacific island, sending a Native American to accept your Academy Award, or having three children with your housekeeper scandalous.link

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Brando was never embroiled in a single large-scale scandal — unless, that is, you count doubling your weight, retreating to your own South Pacific island, sending a Native American to accept your Academy Award, or having three children with your housekeeper scandalous.hothostingcompanies.com

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Scott Munsey@facebook

Another great article.
Thank you. My only contention is in the mention of jimmy dean.
Yes, Brando, and clift we're both inspirations for the man
And I'm sure, too a degree he took a page or two out of
their books. That said, Dean was his own man, and an extremely gifted one at that. Dean once said that he had his own personal rebellion (demons), and didn't need to rely on Brando's.
Both were great regardless and the world is better for their existence.
Personally, I feel Dean was a much, much better actor than Brando. Hell than anyone. That's my bias though ; )
Thank you again for a very cool read!
Cheers : )

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