474: Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (review)

Jul 31, 2008 01:05

The next round of reviews is brought to you by the watch instantly feature on Netflix:

"Cat on a Hot Tin Roof"
I rather consider myself a budding aficionado of adaptations of Tennessee Williams plays... or maybe old Elizabeth Taylor movies. I dunno; ask me in another few years...

Anyway, this one both was and wasn't surprising. Was, because it is certainly the most elegant adaptation I've seen yet, no least of which because the original play isn't that elegant by comparison. And wasn't, because, well, they glossed over the homosexual bit, which, in this case, actually robbed some of the original power--or at least muddled Brick's and Maggie's real sorrow, replacing it with the most grotesque Hollywood ending you have ever seen.

See, yeah, it's great that Brick and Maggie seem to have sex in the end, show up those "no-neck monsters" by making their own... but you do realize that isn't the *point*? Brick's crippling nihilism is renamed post-grief malaise... which isn't such a jump, honestly, but it also takes out all the typical Williams desperation and tragedy and almost makes it into some sort of *feel-good* thing. Sure, Big Daddy is dying, but hey! Brick reconnects with him and he and Maggie make up! (Which also totally ruins Maggie's Great Lie, by the way...)

Of course, this griping is sort of besides the point. The real point being: how were the performances? Which any good Williams rendition hinges upon...

Well, the above griping aside, Elizabeth Taylor does the best with what she's given, which is still a lot of the original, rambly monologuing I love about this character. And she certainly transforms it from the poetic desperation I read it as and created an almost vanilla, pathetic sort of desperation. Obviously, Taylor is reading the tone the direction and co. are going for and grits it right up for them. This clearly makes her brilliant... or passive-aggressive. I'm not sure which.

Meanwhile, this vanilla tone surprisngly works wonders for Paul Newman, whose castrated (in the bad way, in this version) Brick is very all-American and justified (in this version) in his indignation over Maggie's suspicions over his relationship with Skip. Again, I keep coming back to how these characters have been just about castrated by the omission of that one, seemingly little detail... Because the entire emotional core of the play utterly hinges upon it so. This wasn't necessarily the case in A Streetcar Named Desire of Suddenly, Last Summer...

Still, moving on. Cinematography... eh, could've been better. I appreciate that they wanted to expand this beyond the confines of the one room of the original... But it just kinda makes this feel like a typical '50's film. They could've gotten so much atmosphere (not to mention neat angles)...! But then, I have to keep reminding myself, THIS IS NOT WHO'S AFRAID OF VIRGINIA WOOLF?. Not that it wants to be.

I really am so critical of Williams' adaptations, ruthlessly comparing them to the original... This one actually is very enjoyable, and I did appreciate how they made it flow more smoothly than the episodic original. And we did get some *very* fine performances for Big Daddy and Big Momma... and the roles of Brick's brother and his wife were perfectly cast to the *note*.

However, when you are judging it from a critical eye--seeing how it is emotionally castrated--it falls apart. Please don't do what I just did. Watch it, enjoy it. Or go watch Far From Heaven to remind yourself about the emotional castration of the '50's--with much more impressive cinematography. And awareness of racial tensions! ^_^

Still, I'm giving it 3 and a half stars for hamminess. 

review, film, cinema

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