James Greene | Through the Shattered Lens

Welcome to Retro Television Reviews, a feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past! On Saturdays, I will be reviewing The American Short Story, which ran semi-regularly on PBS in 1974 to 1981. The entire show can be purchased on Prime and found on YouTube and Tubi.

This week, we have an adaptation of a Henry James short story.

Episode #3 “The Jolly Corner”

(Dir by Arthur Barron, originally aired in 1975)

In 1906, Spencer Brydon (Fritz Weaver) returns to America from Europe, where he’s spent the majority of his adult life. Brydon has specifically returned to oversee some properties that he has inherited, including his childhood home and an adjacent building that’s going to be turned into an apartment complex. The middle-aged Brydon reconnects with his old friend, Alice Shaverton (Salome Jens), and finds himself wondering what type of man he would have come if he had stayed and worked in America as opposed to living a life of leisure in Europe.

Soon, Spencer comes to feel that his alternate “American” self is actually haunting his childhood home, his so-called “Jolly Corner.” His American self haunts him like a ghost, a menacing shadow that continually forces him to ask “what if?” He becomes obsessed with both his former home and his shadowy alter ego. But is this American version of Spencer Brydon real? And if it is real, what does it want from the Spencer Brydon who went to Europe?

This was a really well-done adaptation of a Henry James short story, one that was full of gothic atmosphere and which featured a compelling lead performance from Fritz Weaver. As directed by Arthur Barron, this episode did a good job of portraying the story’s horror elements while also reminding us that James’s story, for all of its talk of ghosts and alternate realities, is ultimately a portrait of a really bad midlife crisis. Spencer did what a lot of rich Americans do. He went to Europe to escape the responsibilities of his home country. And now, in middle-age, he’s asking himself, “Is this all there is?”

If nothing else, watching this episode might inspire the viewer to read more Henry James. That’s a good thing.

After Tom Logan (Jack Nicholson) and his gang of rustlers (played by Randy Quaid, Frederic Forrest, and Harry Dean Stanton) rob a train, Logan uses the money to buy a small ranch. Their new neighbor is Braxton (John McLiam), a haughty land baron who considers himself to be an ambassador of culture to the west but who is not above hanging rustlers and hiring gunmen. One such gunman is the eccentric Robert E. Lee Clayton (Marlon Brando), a “regulator” who speaks in a possibly fake Irish brogue, is a master of disguise, and uses a variety of hand-made weapons. Braxton hires Clayton to kill Logan and his men, despite the fact that his daughter (Kathleen Lloyd) has fallen in love with Logan.

A flop that was so notorious that it would be five years before Arthur Penn got a chance to direct another film, The Missouri Breaks is best remembered for Marlon Brando’s bizarre performance. Brando reportedly showed up on the set late and insisted on largely improvising his part, which meant speaking in a comical Irish accent, singing an impromptu love song to his horse, and disguising himself as an old woman for one key scene. (According to Patrick McGilligan’s Jack’s Life: A Biography of Jack Nicholson, co-star Harry Dean Stanton grew so incensed at Brando’s behavior that he actually tried to rip the dress off of Brando, saying that he simply would not be “killed’ by a man wearing a dress.) Brando’s later reputation for being a disastrously weird performer largely started with the stories of his behavior on the set of The Missouri Breaks.

I had heard so many bad things about Brando and The Missouri Breaks that I was surprised when I finally watched it and discovered that it is actually a pretty good movie. For all of his notoriety, Brando does not enter this leisurely paced and elegiac western until after half a hour. The majority of the movie is just about Jack Nicholson and his gang, with Nicholson giving a low-key and surprisingly humorous performance that contrasts well with Brando’s more flamboyant work. While Arthur Penn may not have been able to control Brando, he still deftly combines moments of comedy with moments of drama and he gets good performances from most of the supporting cast. Quaid, Stanton, Forrest, and Nicholson are all just fun to watch and the rambling storyline provides plenty of time to get to know them. Whenever Brando pushes the movie too close to self-parody, Nicholson pulls it back. The Missouri Breaks may have been a flop when it was released but it has aged well.