Tag Archives: Martin Ritt

Film Review: Hud (dir by Martin Ritt)

Posted on by Lisa Marie Bowman

In 1963’s Hud, Paul Newman plays a monster named Hud.

Hud Bannon is the son of rancher Homer Bannon (Melvyn Douglas).  Hud lives in a small Texas town, where he’s known for his pink Cadillac, his heavy-drinking, and his womanizing.  When we first meet him, he’s leaving the home of a married woman and narrowly escaping the rage of her husband.  Throughout the film, he mentions that he’s heading into town to meet “Mrs.” So-and-So.  Hud’s father fears that Hud might be incapable of caring about anyone but himself.  Hud’s nephew, Lonnie (Brandon deWilde), at first looks up to Hud but, over the course of the film, he comes to see his uncle for who he truly is.  Though Hud is quick to defend Homer from others, he himself views Homer with contempt and even plots to have the old man declared incompetent so that he can take over the ranch.  His flirtation with the family housekeeper, Alma (Patricia Neal), soon crosses the line into something much more dangerous.  Hud is charming and handsome in the way that only a 30-something Paul Newman could be.  But he’s also a complete monster.

In Hud, Newman gave one of his best performances and director Martin Ritt and cinematographer James Wong Howe captured some haunting images of the most barren parts of the Texas panhandle.  Howe’s black-and-white imagery not only captures the harsh landscape but also the harsh outlook of the people who live there.  Hud’s ruthless personality as is much a product of the demands of the land as his own narcissism.  The characters in Hud live in a land that doesn’t allow sentimentality.  It’s a land that’s allowed Hud to become the monster that he is.

At least, that’s the way that Paul Newman saw Hud.  That was also the way that the film’s director, Martin Ritt, viewed Hud.  They viewed him as being about as villainous and unlikable as a character could be but, to Newman’s surprise, audiences actually walked out of the film embracing the character and making excuses for him.  Newman was shocked to learn that teenagers were putting posters of him as Hud on their walls.

Why did viewers embrace Hud?

Some of it is due to the fact that Brandon deWilde gives a remarkably bland performance as Lonny.  We first see Hud through Lonny’s eyes and we are meant to share Lonny’s growing disillusionment with his uncle.  But Lonny comes across as being such an empty-headed character that it’s hard to really get emotionally invested in his coming-of-age.  When Hud eventually dismisses Lonny and his concerns, Lonny really can’t defend himself because there’s not much going on inside of Lonny.  On the other hand, Paul Newman gives such a charismatic performance as Hud that we find ourselves continually making excuses for his bad behavior.  When he talks about how he was raised and his difficult relationship with his father, we have sympathy for him even though we know we shouldn’t.  The viewer makes excuses for Hud because that’s what we tend to do when it comes to charismatic bad boys who don’t follow the rules.

Indeed, Hud is proof of the power of charisma and screen presence.  As a character, Hud does some truly terrible things and yet, because he’s Paul Newman, we want to forgive him.  We want to try to figure out why someone who is so handsome and so charismatic would also be so angry.  Lonny may be the “good” character but Hud is the one who we want to get to know.  When Lonny flips through a paperback to read the sex scenes, he comes across as being creepy.  When a drunk Hud flirts with a woman who he has just met, we ask ourselves what we would do if Hud ever tried that with us.  The truth is that we all know what we would do.  That’s what makes Hud both a dangerous and an intriguing character.

In the end, Hud is an excellent film that features Paul Newman at his best and which uses the downfall of Homer’s ranch as a metaphor for a changing American society.  Though Hud was  not nominated for Best Picture, it was nominated for almost everything else.  Melvyn Douglas and Patricia Neal won acting Oscars.  James Wong Howe’s cinematography was also honored.  Paul Newman was nominated and perhaps would have won if not for the fact that Sidney Poitier was nominated for playing the exact opposite of Hud in Lilies of the Field.  Hud was meant to be a picture about Lonny discovering his uncle was a monster.  Instead, the film became about Hud’s refusal to compromise.  It turns out that people like good-looking rebels who do what they want.

Even if viewers missed the point, Hud was one of the best films of the early 60s and Paul Newman’s powerful performance continues to intrigue.

 

 

Film Review: Paris Blues (dir by Martin Ritt)

Posted on by Lisa Marie Bowman

1961’s Paris Blues tells the story of four Americans in Paris.

Ram (Paul Newman) and Eddie (Sidney Poitier) are expatriate jazz musicians.  Ram has come to Paris to try to find success as a musician.  He’s a little cocky.  He’s a little arrogant.  However, he’s talented and he believes enough in his talent that he takes it a little bit personally when he’s told that he should just focus on being a composer instead.  Eddie is Ram’s best friend and someone who has no interest in ever returning to America.  In America, he’s judged by the color of his skin.  In Paris, no one cares that he’s black.  In Paris, they just care about his talent.

Lillian (Joanne Woodward) and Connie (Diahann Carroll) are best friends who are spending two weeks in Paris.  They love jazz and eventually, Lillian comes to love Ram while Connie comes to love Eddie.  Connie tries to convince Eddie to marry her and come back to America with her but Eddie tells her that “the struggle” in America is not “my struggle.”  Ram also finds himself torn over whether he should stay in Paris or return to America with Lillian.  In the end, one man leaves and one man stays.  It’s not really much of a surprise who does what.

Paris Blues was directed by Martin Ritt, a director who had been blacklisted during the 50s and whose career was revived by several films that he made with Paul Newman.  (Newman and Joanne Woodward first met on the set of Ritt’s The Long Hot Summer.)  Ritt was one of those reliably liberal directors who made message films that dealt with political issues but were never quite radical.  Paris Blues features a lot of talk about the civil rights movement and it makes an attempt to be honest about why two Americans would chose to live in a different country.  And yet, as was so often the case with Martin Ritt’s films, the film presents itself as being far more daring than it actually is.  Yes, Ram initially hits on Connie but he loses interest once he sees Lillian.  Though the film is based on a novel that featured an interracial relationship, there’s never really any doubt that, in the film, Ram is going to end up with Lillian and Eddie is going to end up with Connie.  And while the film makes it clear that Ram and Lillian sleep together within hours of first meeting each other, the relationship between Connie and Eddie is romantic but chaste.  Paris Blues may be a mature film for 1961 but it’s still definitely a film of 1961.

That said, the music’s great (Louis Armstrong shows up to jam with Ram and Eddie) and Newman and Woodward’s chemistry is off the charts.  Ram is like a lot of the characters that Paul Newman played in the 50s and 60s.  He can be self-centered and he can be petulant and he can be self-destructive.  But he’s never less than honest and the fact that he refuses to compromise or give into self-doubt makes him very appealing.  While Poitier struggles with a script that refuses to allow him too much personality (he’s affably pleasant, even when he’s explaining why he doesn’t want to live in America), Newman dominates the film in the role of an artist determined to share his vision.

Paris Blues is never the masterpiece that it tries to be but Paul Newman makes it more than worth watching.

4 Shots From 4 Films: Special Paul Newman Edition

Posted on by Lisa Marie Bowman

4 Shots From 4 Films is just what it says it is, 4 shots from 4 of our favorite films. As opposed to the reviews and recaps that we usually post, 4 Shots From 4 Films lets the visuals do the talking!

101 years ago today, Paul Newman was born in Shaker Heights, Ohio.  He would go on, of course, to become one of America’s greatest film stars, an acclaimed actor who was active from the mid-part of the 20th century to the beginning of our current century.  He made his film debut in 1954 with The Silver Chalice (and subsequently paid for an ad in which he apologized for his performance in the film, which I think was a bit unnecessary as he wasn’t really that bad in the film) and he made his final onscreen appearance in 2005 in Empire Falls.  (He did, however, subsequently provide the voice of Doc Hudson in Cars, along with narrating a few documentaries.)  Time and again, he proved himself to be one of the best actors around.  According to most report, he was also one of the nicest.  When he died in 2008, the world mourned.

In honor of his cinematic legacy, here are….

4 Shots From 4 Paul Newman Films

The Long Hot Summer (1958, dir by Martin Ritt, DP: Joseph LaShelle)

Hud (1963, dir by Martin Ritt, DP: James Wong Howe)

The Sting (1973, dir by George Roy Hill, DP: Robert Surtees)

Slap Shot (1977, dir by George Roy Hill, DP: Victor Kemper)

4 Shots From 4 Films: Special 1963 Edition

Posted on by Lisa Marie Bowman

4 Shots From 4 Films is just what it says it is, 4 shots from 4 of our favorite films. As opposed to the reviews and recaps that we usually post, 4 Shots From 4 Films is all about letting the visuals do the talking.

Since I reviewed a film that takes place in 1963 this morning, I’m going to use today’s edition of 4 Shots From 4 Films to pay further homage to that pivotal year.  It’s time for….

4 Shots From 4 1963 Films

From Russia With Love (1963, dir by Terence Young, DP: Ted Moore)

Black Sabbath (1963, dir by Mario Bava, DP: Ubaldo Terzano)

Hud (1963, dir by Martin Ritt, DP: James Wong Howe)

Cleopatra (1963, dir by Joseph L. Mankiewicz, DP: Leon Shamroy)

The Great White Hope (1970, directed by Martin Ritt)

Posted on by Jedadiah Leland

The year is 1910 and the sports world is in a panic.  For the first time, a black man has won the title of the heavyweight champion of the world.  Jack Jefferson (James Earl Jones) had to go to Australia because no American city would agree to host the fight but he came out of it victorious.  The proud and outspoken Jefferson finds himself targeted by both the white establishment and black activists who claim that Jefferson has not done enough for his community.

It’s not just Jefferson’s success as a boxer that people find scandalous.  It’s also that the married Jefferson has a white mistress, a socialite named Eleanor Brachman (Jane Alexander, in her film debut).  While boxing promoters search for a “great white hope” who can take the title from Jefferson, the legal authorities attempt to arrest Jefferson for violating the Mann Act by supposedly taking Eleanor across state lines for “immoral purposes.”  Jefferson and Eleanor end up fleeing abroad but even then, their relationship is as doomed as Jefferson’s reign as the heavyweight champ.

Based on a Pulitzer-winning stage play by Howard Sackler, The Great White Hope features Jones and Alexander recreating the roles for which they both won Tonys.  Both Jones and Alexander would go on to receive Oscar nominations for their work in the film version.  It was the first nomination for Alexander and, amazingly, it was the only nomination that Jones would receive over the course of his career.  (It surprises me that he wasn’t even nominated for his work in Field Of Dreams.)  Both Jones and Alexander give powerful performances, with Jones dominating every scene as the proud, defiant, and often very funny Jack Jefferson.  Jones may not have had a boxer’s physique but he captured the attitude of a man who knew he was the best and who mistakenly believed that would be enough to overcome a racist culture.  (Speaking of racist, legendary recluse Howard Hughes reportedly caught the film on television and was so offended by the sight of Jones kissing Alexander that he thought about buying NBC to make sure that the movie would never be aired again.)  Hal Holbrook, Chester Morris, Moses Gunn, Marcel Dalio, and R.G. Armstrong all do good work in small roles.

Unfortunately, The Great White Hope still feels like a filmed stage play, despite the attempts made to open up the action.  Martin Ritt was a good director of actors but the boxing scenes are never feel authentic and the middle section of the film drags.  Jones and Alexander keep the film watchable but The Great White Hope is never packs as strong of a punch as its main character.

4 Shots From 4 Films: Special Martin Ritt Edition

Posted on by Lisa Marie Bowman

4 Shots From 4 Films is just what it says it is, 4 shots from 4 of our favorite films. As opposed to the reviews and recaps that we usually post, 4 Shots From 4 Films lets the visuals do the talking!

On this day, 110 years ago, Martin Ritt was born in New York City.  Like many of the Hollywood directors who came to prominence in the 1950s, he started his directorial career in the theater before moving over to live TV.  In 1952, his television career was derailed when he was accused of being a communist.  Blacklisted, it would be five years before Ritt could get another directing job.  When he did start to work again, he moved from television into the movies, starting with 1957’s Edge of the City.  Perhaps due to his own experiences, his films always had a social conscience and always defended the individual against corrupt corporations and governments.  In 1976, he directed one of the first films about the Hollywood blacklist, The Front.

As a director, Ritt was known for his skill with actors.  More than anyone, he played a huge role in making stars out of both Paul Newman and Sally Field.  He was also one of the few directors to understand how to harness Richard Burton’s self-destructive tendencies and, as a result, Burton gave one of his best performances in Ritt’s adaptation of The Spy Who Came In From The Cold.  

It’s time for….

4 Shots From 4 Martin Ritt Films

Hud (1963, dir by Martin Ritt, DP: James Wong Howe)

The Spy Who Came In From The Cold (1965, dir by Martin Ritt, DP: Oswald Morris)

The Front (1976, dir by Martin Ritt, DP: Michael Chapman)

Nuts (1987, dir by Martin Ritt, DP: Andrzej Bartkowiak)

4 Shots From 4 Films: Special Martin Ritt Edition

Posted on by Lisa Marie Bowman

4 Shots From 4 Films is just what it says it is, 4 shots from 4 of our favorite films. As opposed to the reviews and recaps that we usually post, 4 Shots From 4 Films lets the visuals do the talking!

On this day, 109 years ago, Martin Ritt was born in New York City.  Like many of the Hollywood directors who came to prominence in the 1950s, he started his directorial career in the theater before moving over to live TV.  In 1952, his television career was derailed when he was accused of being a communist.  Blacklisted, it would be five years before Ritt could get another directing job.  When he did start to work again, he moved from television into the movies, starting with 1957’s Edge of the City.  Perhaps due to his own experiences, his films always had a social conscience and always defended the individual against corrupt corporations and governments.  In 1976, he directed one of the first films about the Hollywood blacklist, The Front.

As a director, Ritt was known for his skill with actors.  More than anyone, he played a huge role in making stars out of both Paul Newman and Sally Field.  He was also one of the few directors to understand how to harness Richard Burton’s self-destructive tendencies and, as a result, Burton gave one of his best performances in Ritt’s adaptation of The Spy Who Came In From The Cold.  

It’s time for….

4 Shots From 4 Martin Ritt Films

Edge of the City (1957, dir by Martin Ritt, DP: Joseph Brun)

The Long Hot Summer (1958, dir by Martin Ritt, DP: Joseph LaShelle)

Hud (1963, dir by Martin Ritt, DP: James Wong Howe)

The Spy Who Came In From The Cold (1965, dir by Martin Ritt, DP: Oswald Morris)

4 Shots From 4 Films: In Tribute To Sidney Poitier

Posted on by Lisa Marie Bowman

4 Or More Shots From 4 Or More Films is just what it says it is, 4 shots from 4 of our favorite films. As opposed to the reviews and recaps that we usually post, 4 Shots From 4 Films lets the visuals do the talking!

Earlier, today, it was announced that Sidney Poitier had passed away at the age of 94.

Poitier was, of course, the first black actor to win the Oscar for Best Actor.  He won that award for 1962’s Lillies of the Field.  He would go on to star in the Oscar-winning In The Heat of the Night, where he delivered the famous line, “They call me Mr. Tibbs!”  Poitier was one of the first black actors to be acknowledged as a movie star.  In the 70s and the 80s, he chafed at the limited selection of roles that he was being offered in mainstream productions and he started to produce and direct his own films.  He also served as a diplomat, serving as the Bahamian ambassador to both Japan and UNESCO.

In honor of Poitier’s life and legacy, here are….

4 Shots From 4 Sidney Poitier Films

A Raisin in the Sun (1961, dir by Daniel Petrie, DP: Charles Lawton Jr.)

Paris Blues (1961, dir by Martin Ritt, DP: Christian Matras)

In The Heat of the Night (1967, dir by Norman Jewison, DP: Haskell Wexler)

Brother John (1971, dir by James Goldstone, DP: Gerald Perry Finnerman)

Lisa Reviews An Oscar Nominee: Sounder (dir by Martin Ritt)

Posted on by Lisa Marie Bowman

The 1972 film Sounder follows the Morgans, a family of black sharecroppers living in 1930s Louisiana.

When we first see Nathan Lee Morgan (Paul Winfield) and his young son, David Lee (Kevin Hooks), they’re hunting.  Accompanying them is their loyal dog, Sounder.  As they hunt, two things become very obvious.  Number one, David Lee is a good father who is doing his best to provide for his family under the most difficult circumstances possible.  Number two, the family is desperately poor.  When Nathan finally gives in to temptation and steals a ham to feed his family, the local Sheriff (James Best) shows up at the farmhouse the next day and arrests him.  Nathan is taken away to prison and one of the deputies even shoots Sounder.

Fortunately, Sounder survives and so do the Morgans.  Under the stern but loving leadership of their mother, Rebecca (Cicely Tyson), the Morgan children manage to bring in the season’s crops.  Unfortunately, having to work out in the fields doesn’t leave much time for David Lee to get an education.  When he does go to school, he and the other students listen as a middle-aged, white teacher reads to them from Huckleberry FInn.

After the wounded Sounder finally returns to the Morgan family and recovers from his wounds, David Lee decides that he wants to go to the prison and see his father.  Unfortunately, the sheriff refuses to even tell the family where Nathan has been incarcerated.  None of the white authority figures in town care that the Morgans are struggling or that they’ve managed to bring in the crops themselves.  None of them cares or seems to even understand that David Lee is missing his father.  The sheriff presents himself as being a reasonable man and is never heard to the use the n-word.  Instead, he and every other white person in town refers to David Lee as being “boy,” diminishing everything that he’s done since his father was arrested.

David Lee finally figures out the location of a prison that might (or might not) currently be housing his father.  It’s several miles away.  Accompanied by Sounder, David Lee sets out to make the long journey to the prison.  Along the way, he discovers another school and a far more empathetic teacher named Camille (Janet MacLachlan).  David Lee is forced to make a decision that will effect not only his future but also the future of his family.

Sounder is a heartfelt film.  It’s a film that’s less interested in telling a story with a traditional beginning and end as opposed to just sharing scenes of everyday life.  In this case, it’s the life of family that manages to survive despite it often seeming as if the entire world is arrayed against them.  The film was based on a book that pretty much centered around the dog.  The movie, on the other hand, is more about the family and, despite the fact that the film is still named after him, the dog is pretty much superfluous to the plot.  That said, Sounder still plays an important role because, just as Sounder survives being shot at and remains loyal to the people that he loves, the Morgans survive whatever adversity is tossed at them.  Watching the film, the viewer is very much aware that life is never going to be easy for the Morgans but, at the same time, it’s impossible not take some comfort in the fact that they have each other.  Paul Winfield and Cicely Tyson both give strong performances as the resilient Nathan Lee and Rebecca and the entire film is the type of movie that’ll inspire tears even as it inspires happiness.

At the Oscars, Sounder was nominated for Best Picture, where it provided a gentle contrast to the other nominees, Cabaret, Deliverance, The Emigrants, and The Godfather.  Paul Winfield and Cicely Tyson were nominated for Best Actor and Best Actress, making 1972 the first year in which black performers were nominated in both of the lead categories.  (It was also the first year in which more than one black actress was nominated for Best Actress as Tyson ended up competing with Lady Sings The Blues‘s Diana Ross.)  In the end, Tyson lost to Cabaret‘s Liza Minnelli while Winfield lost to The Godfather‘s Marlon Brando.  And, of course, The Godfather also went on to deservedly win the award for Best Picture.

Embracing the Melodrama Part III #1: No Down Payment (dir by Martin Ritt)

Posted on by Lisa Marie Bowman

Back in 2014 and 2015, I did a series of reviews that I called Embracing the Melodrama, in which I reviewed some of the best (and worst) melodramas ever made.  All together, I reviewed 186 films as a part of Embracing the Melodrama, everything from Sunrise to Reefer Madness to The Towering Inferno to Cocaine: One Man’s Seduction.  I had so much fun doing it that I’ve decided to do it again.

No, don’t worry.  I’m not going to attempt to review 186 films this time.  Instead, for Embracing The Melodrama Part III, I am going to limit myself to reviewing 8 films.  I’ll be posting one Embracing the Melodrama review a day, from now until next Sunday.

Let’s kick things off with 1957’s No Down Payment, a film about life in … THE SUBURBS!

(cue dramatic music)

The suburbs!

Is there any place in America that’s more dramatic?  Is it any wonder that, since the early 50s, films have regularly been using the suburbs as an example of everything that’s apparently wrong with America?  Every year sees at least one major film about how terrible life is in the suburbs.  Last year, for instance, George Clooney directed a film called Suburbicon, which was regularly cited as a possible Oscar contender before it was released and everyone was reminded of the fact that George Clooney is a terrible director.  That said, I can understand why filmmakers continue to be drawn to the suburbs.  Secret affairs.  Dangerous drugs.  Duplicitous children.  Fractured families.  Barbecuing alcoholics.  Undercover occultists.  You can find them all in the suburbs!

No Down Payment opens with David (Jeffrey Hunter) and Jean Martin (Patricia Owens) driving down a California highway and looking at the billboards that dot the landscape.  Every billboard advertises a new community, inviting people to make a new and better life away from the crowded city.  David and Jean smile, amused by how blatant all of the ads are.  That’s when they see the billboard that’s advertising their new home:

Sunrise Hill Estates

A Better Place For Better Living

Soon, David and Jean are moving into their new home and meeting their new neighbors.  It turns out that most of the houses in Sunrise Hill Estates are available for “no down payment” and the majority of the residents are struggling financially.  Though David may look at all of his neighbors and say, “Looks like everybody here is living a wonderful life,” the truth is something far different.

(If David’s line sound a bit too on the nose and obvious, that’s because almost all of the dialogue in No Down Payment was too on the nose and obvious.  As a side note, “on the nose” is an extremely strange expression.)

David’s neighbors include:

Herm Kreitzer (Pat Hingle) and his wife, Betty (Barbara Rush).  Herm owns an appliance store and sits on the town council.  Herm is gruff but likable.  He’s the leader of his neighborhood and he welcomes the Martins with a backyard party.  Herm’s employee, Iko (Aki Aleong), wants to move to Sunrise Hill but no one is willing to give him a reference because he’s not white.

Troy Boone (Cameron Mitchell) and his wife, Leola (Joanne Woodward).  We know that Troy is going to be trouble because he’s played by Cameron Mitchell.  We know that we’re going to like Leola because she’s played by Joanne Woodward.  Troy’s an auto mechanic and a veteran.  He wants to be appointed the chief of police but the town is reluctant to hire him because he doesn’t have a college education.  Leola wants to have a child but Troy says that they can’t even think about that until he has a good job.

And then there’s Jerry Flagg (Tony Randall) and his wife, Isabelle (Sheree North).  Jerry is a used car salesman and he’s also a drunk.  Jerry spends most of the movie hitting on other women and embarrassing Isabelle.  Jerry has no impulse control and, as a result, he’s heavily in debt.  His only hope is that he can convince a family to buy an expensive car that they really don’t need.  When last I checked, that’s what a used car salesman is supposed to do.

The film deals with a lot of issues — prejudice, sexism, economic insecurity — that are still relevant today.  Unfortunately, the film itself is a bit slow and what was shocking in the 50s seems rather jejune today.  Watching the film, you get the feeling that, as with many films of the 50s, all of the interesting stuff is happening off-screen.  That said, the film has an interesting cast.  Jeffrey Hunter and Patricia Owens are a bit dull as the Martins but then you’ve got their neighbors!  Any film that features Cameron Mitchell glowering can’t be all bad but the best performance comes from Tony Randall, who is memorably sleazy and desperate as Jerry Flagg.  For a fun experiment, watch this film right before watching Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter?

Tomorrow, we’ll continue to embrace the melodrama with 1961’s Common Law Wife!