Marlon Brando and Vivien Leigh Brilliantly Take a Streetcar to Screen Glory

Rarely has a stage-to-film transfer been as deftly and powerfully created as in Warner Bros.’ remarkable 1951 version of Tennessee Williams’ landmark Pulitzer Prize-winning 1947 Broadway hit, A Streetcar Named Desire. Relating the story of the emotionally fragile Blanche DuBois, a fading Southern Belle forced to leave her environs and take the title trolley to the New Orlean residence of her younger sister Stella and her brutish-but-sexy husband Stanley Kowalski, director Elia Kazan, repeating his role after helming the play, pulls a host of stellar cinematic elements together, including a supreme cast, evocative black and white cinematography by Harry Stradling that artfully captures the seamy New Orleans atmosphere and a bluesy, often erotically-charged score by Alex North, with the skill of a master craftsman who knows exactly how to blend the highly-theatrical aspects of the story with a more believably modern approach to the volatile material and performances. Due to the all-mighty Production Code, the carefully composed screenplay by Williams and Oscar Saul had to be sanitized by Warner Bros. to sidestep some of the play’s adult themes (specifically depictions of homosexually and rape), yet Kazan and a monumental cast and crew all working at creative peaks, specifically stars Vivien Leigh and Marlon Brando, both lending all of their substantial talents in electrifying portrayals of Blanche and Stanley, were still able to convey the central plot points of Streetcar with passion and dexterity.

By 1951, Kazan was firmly at the head of both Broadway and Hollywood creative forces, having started his career as an actor on stage and film (1940’s City of Conquest) before gaining more pronounced success as a director, helming The Skin of Our Teeth, All My Sons, Death of a Salesman and Street on Broadway, while making a strong fray into movies starting in 1945 with A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, wherein his aptitude for drawing great performances from players regardless of their theatrical backgrounds was readily apparent via the work of the entire cast, specifically Oscar-winner James Dunn and young Peggy Ann Garner, who also was granted a special juvenile Oscar for her touching work, then winning an Oscar for Gentlemen’s Agreement and achieving an additional big hit with 1949’s Pinky,  another “message” picture tackling themes of prejudice, while also moving into film noir territory with two intense crime-oriented films with on location shooting, Boomerang! and 1950’s Panic in the Streets.

Fully versed in the art of finding the correct cinematic style for a story, the thriving Kazan is clearly at the top of his considerable game with Streetcar, illustrating the complex, character-driven narrative with lucidity and stunning dramatic force. Although the scenario largely takes place on a single set Kazan, wisely focusing on the magnificent work of Leigh, Brando and a stellar supporting cast and adroitly utilizing Stradling’s awesome use of shadow and light and North’s jazz-infested score to capture every mood, is able to escape the stage-bound vibe that hinders many transfers of plays to film, building such arresting dynamics that relationships unfold in profound, exciting ways, causing a viewer to become transfixed by the immediacy of the scenes and the “in the moment” performing on display therein, with Kazan managing to modulate the theatricality of the situations to stay in perfect tune with the more subtle nature of cinematic storytelling, including vividly sincere screen acting of the highest order. After Streetcar, Kazan would maintain his lofty place on stage (overseeing another Williams’ Pulitzer Prize hit, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and also directing The Dark at the Top of the Stairs and Williams’  Sweet Bird of Youth) and in films, with another Oscar for On the Waterfront, East of Eden, Baby Doll, A Face in the Crowd, Splendor in the Grass and his highly personal passion project America, America bringing him significant acclaim and sometimes healthy box-office returns. Although 1952 testimony wherein Kazan named names for the corrupt House of Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) caused some damage to his reputation, witnessed by the divided response when Kazan received an honorary Oscar in 1999, Kazan’s best work has kept a rightful place among the best-acted, most impressive films of the post-war era and beyond.

As possibly Williams’ most impactful and provocative heroine, the unnerved-yet-coquettish  Blanche DuBois, Vivien Leigh recreates her London stage success in one of the most powerful emotionally driven performances ever filmed. Dealing with her own mental issues at the time, Leigh appears determined to enact Blanche with the same force and conviction that marked her previous career-defining work as Scarlett O’Hara, while also infusing vulnerability and personal distress into her trenchant portrayal with shattering effect. Scenes wherein Blanche recollects her tragic romance with her deceased husband, or addresses the poems he wrote to her, carry a truth and emotional resonance that are rare to find in film, with a viewer wondering exactly how Leigh was able to plunge so deeply into the character, while finding the exact emotive balance in skillfully modulating the role from the stage to film, bringing as much realism as possible to the role and (at least) matching the more modern Actor’s Studio influenced work of her colleagues. Leigh also employs plenty of sensualness in the role as Blanche adopts a coquettish demeanor, teaming with Brando to generate a wealth of electricity as Blanche and Stanley‘s contrasting personalities create increasing tension and heat as the plot thickens, and lends a disquieting eroticism to the famous scene wherein Blanche flirts heavily with a young collector who arouses her attentions, to the extent of making her “mouth water.” Leigh’s searing work in Streetcar gained respect from her colleagues, with Brando stating Leigh was Blanche in some respects, Kazan claiming she would have “crawled through glass” to achieve greatness in her performance, and Williams avowing that Leigh found depth and complexity in the character he hadn’t intended when writing Blanche. After her triumph in Streetcar Leigh would return to the stage, winning a Tony for Tovarich, while sporadically appearing in films, including another imposing trek into Williams’ territory with 1961’s The Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone, before her final appearance in 1965’s Ship of Fools.

Commanding the screen with animal magnetism and an instinctive, forthright thespian ability which would revolutionize screen acting, Marlon Brando brings his star-making role of Stanley to film with a resounding spontaneity and intelligence that announced him as the actor of his generation. First making a major impact on Broadway via a small but overpowering role in Truckline Café that made evident the rare talent Brando possessed to display naked emotionalism in an honest, spellbinding fashion, Streetcar would confirm his reputation as the most gifted young actor on the Great White Way, as well as one possessing the charisma, sex appeal and looks that made him a sure bet for matinee idol status in Hollywood should he head west. After making this trek, 1950’s fine drama The Men, directed by Fred Zinnemann, provided an ideal film debut for Brando to showcase his intensity and sensitivity as Bud, a paralyzed war vet trying to find purpose in life while facing his disability, Brando was in perfect form to adapt Stanley to the screen with style, wit and uncommonly believable emoting that allows the audience to identify with the anti-hero’s abrasive, sometimes abusive behavior as, in Brando’s hands, Stanley also possesses a humanity that somewhat offsets the violent outbursts caused by his quick temper, such as in his famous breakdown wherein the despondent Stanley cries for “Stella!” to return after he’s lashed out at her. Brando allows for a sly spitefulness to Stanley as he plays cat-and-mouse with Blanche, with an audience becoming completely enveloped watching two of the great performances unfolding in hypnotically diverting fashion. Brando would indeed fulfill the promise of Streetcar by becoming the screen’s preeminent actor as well as a top box-office draw, amassing two Oscars during his career in a colorful filmography that included movies of both high quality and demerit, with the singular Brando often giving distinct, ingenious performances in lesser films made intriguing by his unique, often impish presence and undiminished mastery of his craft.

Actors Studio advocates and alumni Karl Malden and Kim Hunter also scored career-enhancing results recreating their Broadway roles as Mitch, Blanche’s shy-but-interested suitor and Stella, who’s torn between her loyalty to her sister and devotion for her coarse-but-enticing husband. Malden had toiled on stage and in film for a decade before his Streetcar breakthrough, debuting on Broadway in 1937 and in films shortly thereafter via 1940’s They Knew What They Wanted, thereafter making his strongest impact in noirs such as Boomerang, Kiss of Death and Where the Sidewalk Ends. With Mitch, Malden is able to add sensitive shading to the role, clearly suggesting the boyishness and mother issues that are chief characteristics of Mitch’s makeup, which lead to some eloquent scenes as the impressionable Mitch bonds with the despairing Blanche, then more caustically-laced moments as Mitch begins to question Blanche’s past, with Malden agilely switching from Mitch’s elation over falling in love to his more sinister tone in later scenes. Post Streetcar, Malden would continue as one of the most prominent actors in the business, fruitfully reteaming with Kazan for an Oscar-nominated turn as the uncompromising Father Barry in Waterfront and coloring his buffoonish hick in 1956’s controversial Baby Doll with comic brio, making an impressive turn to directing for 1957’s tense crime thriller Time Limit, holding his own with Brando as one of the screen’s most sadistic villains in Brando’s fine directional debut One-Eyed Jacks, in his element as Omar Bradley in Patton, then finding a huge audience on television in the 1970’s as the star of The Streets of San Francisco and hocking the American Express card in commercials, eventually ending his big screen career with 1987’s Nuts, with a final t.v. appearance in 2000 on The West Wing before his passing at 97 in 2009.

Kim Hunter made an encouraging entry into movies with producer Val Lewton’s classic 1943 thriller The 7th Victim, followed by a few more offerings, most notably as the female star of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger’s A Matter of Life and Death before her earnest, skillfully conveyed work as Stella propelled her to the forefront of the brightest new talent on stage and screen. With the experience of carefully honing the rich role through a wealth of performances on Broadway, Hunter brings a thoughtful sensitivity to Stella as she attempts to support her often tremulous older sister, while also convincing the viewer she’s a southern belle with the courage to stand up to her bullying husband and give back what he throws her way. Also, Hunter floridly depicts the passionate nature that drives Stella back into Stanley’s arms and the “colored lights” he mentions, regardless of the fights that temporarily break them apart. Unfortunately for Hunter, after this peak, she was quickly sidelined by the shameful HUAC, which greatly limited her screen output during what should have been a golden era for her. Inventive, beguiling work in 1968’s smash Planet of the Apes helped restore Hunter’s status on screen, with frequent film and television appearances thereafter, including an Emmy-nominated turn on The Edge of Night, allowing a wide audience access to Hunter’s exceptional acting prowess, until her passing at 79 in 2002.

Rounding out the cast are a group of stalwart players also recreating their original Broadway performances. Peg Hillias stands out as Eunice, the sassy, knowing, tough-but-sympathetic upstairs neighbor. Rudy Bond and Nick Dennis offer a few lighter moments as Steve, Eunice’s husband and Pablo, both rowdy card-playing buddies of Stanley. Wright King is also pitch perfect as the unnamed young collector who encounters Blanche in one of the scenario’s most memorable segments, working in splendid tandem with Leigh while nicely illustrating a beguiling innocence and then surprised puzzlement after Blanche abruptly puts romantic designs on him. Richard Garrick and Ann Dere do their small but choice assignments as the doctor and nurse who are called upon late in the film with stirring clarity. Finally, one outlier from the stage version, former child star Mickey Kuhn, who appeared with Leigh in Wind, pops up at the film’s opening as the handsome young sailor who provides Blanche with directions.

With a September 1951 premiere in New York, A Streetcar Named Desire created a major stir among critics and the movie-going public in general, who were unaccustomed to seeing a screen drama of such force and conviction. At the box-office the talked-about film grossed $4,250,000 in U.S./Canadian rentals, placing it at year’s end among the top five hits, according to Variety. Streetcar also did extremely well come awards season, especially considering it faced stiff competition from A Place in the Sun as the year’s top drama. However, Streetcar picked up Best Picture and Director honors from The New York Film Critics’ Awards, and mention among the top ten films on lists from the National Board of Review, Time magazine and The New York Times. Leigh also made off with a richly-deserved share of Best Actress prizes from the NYFCA, Venice Film Festival and the British Academy Awards, while Kazan and Williams were nominated by the Director’s and Writer’s Guilds, respectfully. Unfortunately for Brando, his unorthodox, uncompromising anti-establishment mindset did him no favors, resulting in one of the greatest and most influential male performances ever to grace the screen coming up empty in regards to wins by awards bodies carrying a “make him wait” bias against the spectacularly gifted and daring young star (with 1954’s On the Waterfront the wait was finally over, of course). However, Brando's status as an exciting new cinematic star of merit was noted among the twelve Academy Award nominations for Streetcar, with the movie going on to win for Leigh, Malden and Hunter’s performances and for Best Production Design.

The film’s reputation as one of the most incisive and thrilling dramas ever committed to the screen has diminished not a whit as the years pass, with revivals, telecasts and physical media releases helping to enhance Streetcar’s already glowing status, and some of the material exorcised before the film’s 1951 release now included in DVD and Blu-ray releases to give audiences a chance to view the full representation of the movie as originally intended. Regardless of which version a viewer beholds, the outstanding, unequaled work of a rare group of artists fully committed to giving their best in bringing possibly Tennessee William’s best play to the screen, including the complex, unsurpassed contributions of Brando and Leigh, ensures audiences hopping aboard this Streetcar are taken on a riveting, thought-provoking and unforgettable cinematic experience unlike any other.