A Streetcar Named Desire (1951)

An interesting portrayal of human nature/desire, A Streetcar Named Desire, is the film that put Marlon Brando on the map with his famous "Stella!" scream o' repentance.  I had the pleasure of reading the original play written by Tennessee Williams (Remind me to have an awesome state name like Tennessee), and am proud that the film nailed it.  Though I read the play about 10 years ago, the themes and characters are, as I remember, extremely well-perserved in the film.  Somewhat implied in the title (which, per Tennessee Williams, was the real name of a public transport in New Orleans), the play/film is a story of discovery of the inner person as the characters ride their desires to their final fulfillment.  The story picks up at the point in which Stanley (played by Brando) and Stella Kowalski (Kim Hunter) receive a visit by Stella's sister, Blanche DuBois (Vivien Leigh).  We quickly discover that nobody's life is as it appears as Stanley's brutish manly manliness threatens the tender mind and attention-seeking motives of Blanche (aptly named for her whitewashed hypocrisy).  Stella is the typical enabling wife who tries to overlook her husband's faults while keeping the peace between her sister and husband.  Almost the entire story takes place in the crucible of the Kowalski's small apartment, which manifests as the Stanley-heated pressure cooker that processes the two competing sisters as one comes to her senses just after the other loses hers.

As I had mentioned in my review of The Bishop's Wife, one of my qualms about classic movies is that they often have the feel of a play caught on film.  A Streetcar Named Desire is unfortunately, an example of such an accusation.  However, the acting and directing is so well-done that I found it easy to dismiss my former reservation.  The story moves well simply due to the fact that it is a great story that is played well, not by any magic camera work or editing.  As mentioned above, almost the entire movie takes place on the set of the Kowalski apartment, which is dowsed with plenty of well-placed shadows and lights.  Even for being black and white, the set feels dirty and sweaty like a good ol' fashion summer in the white hood of New Orleans.  Leigh over-acts the vain histrionics of Blanche Dubois for much of the first half of the film (gasp, clutch, collapse into drape), but nicely portrays the used-up, hysterical DuBois by the end.  Kim Hunter is everything I imagined in Stella Kowalski.  And Marlon Brando is freaking legendary as Stanley Kowalski.  In addition, the film takes advantage of movie effects to capitalize on some important motifs such as steam, lights, and Marlon Brando's sweaty biceps.

This play/film is incredibly moving because it is so true to real life.  Tennessee Williams recapitulates common elements of the human heart in the main characters of Stanley, Stella, and Blanche.  Each character displays both character defects and good works.  Stanley is the primitive, unharnessed id of existence.  He is chauvinistic, violent, and unbridled.  Yet, in attempt to protect a friend from the wiles of Blanche, he makes a virtuous move to bring to light a hidden sin.  Stella is the submissive wife of the drunken, abusive husband.  She makes excuses and sacrifices her safety, yet, in the end, realizes her duty to protect those around her from the destruction of Stanley as she scampers away with her newborn baby daughter.  Blanche desires to be desired.  She doesn't necessarily want a man, but simply to be desired by men.  Yet she demonstrates concern over her sister and her well-being (though the genuineness of that concern is questionable).  The sisters are the epitome of co-dependency, whose lives only find fulfillment in their relationships to their men.  Yet with each character, we see both vice and virtue.  This is the human state.  We have capacity for good but often succumb to patterns of self-destructive co-dependency for the sake of achieving what we all desire most--to be loved.

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