The Graduate (1967)

On tour around the UK at the moment is a stage version of The Graduate. The film itself celebrates its golden anniversary this year, so it seems timely to take a look back at the film. 

Based on the 1963 novella of the same name by Charles Webb, it's the story of Benjamin Braddock, a young man who has just finished college and is looking for a direction in life. Into his life comes Mrs. Robinson, an older woman who is the bored and neglected wife of one of Benjamin's father's work colleagues. Despite the age difference- she is twice as old as him- Benjamin and Mrs. Robinson start an affair. However things become complicated when it is suggested that Benjamin dates Mrs. Robinson's daughter Elaine.

Working from a script by Calder Willingham and Buck Henry, The Graduate was director Mike Nichols' second feature film (his first was the searing Who's Afraid Of Virginia Woolf?). The cast- featuring Dustin Hoffman and Anne Bancroft- have become indelibly linked with these characters, although the end result could have been quite different. 

The Graduate is Dustin Hoffman's second film role and he's great as the nebbishy unfocused Benjamin, literally drifting through his life. Apparently, Hoffman's audition didn't go very well; one of the producers thought he was a messenger boy! He was asked to perform a love scene with Katharine Ross (who plays Elaine Robinson) but had never done one before, and later said 'a girl like her would never go for a guy like me in a million years.' Despite this disastrous start, Nichols saw something in the performance that convinced him Hoffman was right for the part. Warren Beatty and Robert Redford were among the top choices for the role of Benjamin, although Beatty turned the film down due to his filming commitments with Bonnie And Clyde (and that's not the only time you'll hear that particular reason for someone not being cast). Nichols felt that Redford didn't possess the underdog quality he was looking for in Benjamin; when Nichols asked Redford had he ever 'struck out with a girl', Redford responded 'what do you mean?' (let's face it, Redford- with his stereotypical movie-star looks- could have had his pick of women). Robert Duvall, Steve McQueen, Harrison Ford, Jack Nicholson, Anthony Perkins, Gene Wilder, Albert Finney and Brandon DeWilde were all considered, whilst Charles Grodin turned the role down due to financial considerations, and Burt Ward (then playing Robin in the Batman TV series) had to pass due to his filming commitments. 

As the sultry Mrs. Robinson, Anne Bancroft absolutely shines. You do have to wonder how much Bancroft's amazing performance led to the fact that 'Mrs. Robinson' has now passed into common lexicon for an older woman who is involved with a younger man (and it's so much nicer a term than 'cougar'). Bancroft plays Mrs. Robinson as a woman angry with herself for giving up on her own passions and desires (her interest in art, for instance) to marry a man who is wealthy and will provide security. Sure, she has the trappings of wealth- but she's lonely, bored and aching to be loved. It's only at the end that she becomes a villain, forcing Elaine into marriage, but it's a beautifully nuanced performance throughout. And despite the age difference in the script (Mrs. Robinson is meant to be in her mid-forties with Benjamin turning 21 shortly), Bancroft was 36 and Hoffman was 29 at the time of filming! Rumours persist that Doris Day was Nichols' original choice for Mrs. Robinson- she was approached but turned the role down due to the nudity involved. Nichols' actual first choice was the French actress Jeanne Moreau (as, in French culture, it is often an older woman who 'train' younger men in matters of sex) but the producers baulked at this idea. A veritable Who's Who of 1960s Hollywood were either considered or expressed interest in the role- Joan Crawford, Geraldine Page, Patricia Neal, Grayson Hall,  Lauren Bacall, Lana Turner, Anne Baxter, Shelley Winters, Rita Hayworth, Sophia Loren, Angela Lansbury, Simone Signoret, and Audrey Hepburn all enquired about or were considered for the role. Ava Gardner reportedly petitioned for the role and met with Nichols in her hotel room, only to tell him 'first of all, I strip for nobody!'

Whilst Bancroft and Hoffman get the lion's share of the attention, it means that Katharine Ross' lovely supporting turn as Elaine gets overlooked- and that is a shame. By turns vulnerable, confused, torn, forthright and determined, Elaine becomes more than a match for Benjamin- much to her mother's disapproval. Aside from Ross, there were several actresses considered: Sally Field, Shirley MacLaine, Natalie Wood and Patty Duke all turned the role down as did Faye Dunaway (due to her commitments with Bonnie And Clyde). Candice Bergen screentested for the role (opposite Robert Redford), as did Jane Fonda and Goldie Hawn, whilst Ann-Margret, Suzanne Pleshette, Hayley Mills, Lee Remick, Julie Christie, and Tuesday Weld were all considered before Ross was cast.

In the role of Mr. Robinson, Gene Hackman was originally cast but replaced just before filming began as it was felt he was too young; this meant he could take a role in Bonnie And Clyde (which garnered him his first Oscar nomination) instead. Marlon Brando, Gregory Peck, George Peppard, Jack Palance, Frank Sinatra, and Walter Matthau were all considered before Murray Hamilton was cast. For Benjamin's parents, Susan Hayward was considered for Mrs. Braddock but the role was given to Elizabeth Wilson; whilst Yul Brynner, Kirk Douglas, Jack Lemmon, Robert Mitchum, Karl Malden, Christopher Plummer and Ronald Reagan were considered for Mr. Braddock, with the role going to William Daniels. 

One of the many iconic things about the film is the soundtrack which utilises several songs from Simon & Garfunkel, including the mournful 'The Sound Of Silence' and the exuberant 'Mrs. Robinson' (changed from Simon's original 'Mrs. Roosevelt'). Initially, 'The Sound Of Silence' was only used as a pacing device for the edit before Nichols realised that it worked really well and captured the mood he was after. The soundtrack album reached the top of the charts in 1968.

Leslie Caron presenting Mike Nichols with his Oscar

The film was lauded at the 1968 awards season. Despite being nominated for seven Oscars (including Best Picture, Best Adapted Screenplay, Best Cinematography, Best Actor for Hoffman, Best Actress for Bancroft, and Best Supporting Actress for Ross) it won one- Mike Nichols for Best Director. Nichols also won the Golden Globe, the BAFTA, and the Directors' Guild Award. To date, it is the only film to win Best Director and no other award. The film won the Golden Globe for Best Picture- Musical or Comedy (although I take issue that it can be considered a comedy; for me, it's much more of a drama) and the BAFTA for Best Film. Willingham and Henry's script won the Writers' Guild Award and the BAFTA, whilst also being nominated for the Golden Globe. Hoffman won both the Golden Globe and the BAFTA for Most Promising Newcomer (and was nominated for the Best Actor- Musical or Comedy Golden Globe) whilst Bancroft won the Best Actress- Musical or Comedy Golden Globe and was nominated for the Best Actress BAFTA, and Ross won the Most Promising Newcomer Golden Globe and was nominated for the same award at the BAFTAs. The soundtrack also won a Grammy. 

In 1996, The Graduate was selected for preservation in the Library of Congress as part of the National Film Registry. This honour is given to 'culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant films' and The Graduate is indeed culturally and historically significant. Cinema in the 1960s started to look at more social and societal issues. Alongside The Graduate at the 1968 Oscars, the other Best Picture nominees featured Bonnie And Clyde, Guess Who's Coming To Dinner and In The Heat Of The Night (the eventual winner)- films that look at issues of race and gender and American society at large. The other film was Doctor Doolittle, which shows there's still always space for cosy escapism.

If you've never seen The Graduate, it's definitely worth a look. A great soundtrack, superb performances and expertly directed. Here's to you, Mrs. Robinson!

Psycho (1960)

Ahead of the release of Hitchcock, which tells the story of the making of Psycho, it's a good time to go back and take a look at the classic 1960 thriller.

Based on the 1959 novel by Robert Bloch, the story sees Marion Crane (Janet Leigh) embezzling $40,000 from her employer to help her lover Sam Loomis (John Gavin) and going on the run. She stays at the Bates Motel, run by Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins) who lives with his mother in an old house close to the motel. It's a decision that proves fatal... Much like The Exorcist, so much of Psycho has passed into popular culture that it's entirely possible to know the film without having seen it. No more is this evident than in the famous- or infamous- 'shower scene'.

Having decided to return the money she's stolen, Marion takes a shower. Whilst in there, a shadowy figure- Norman's mother- enters the bathroom and stabs Marion to death. Hitchcock plays an audacious twist on his audience by killing off his leading lady so soon into the picture. Up until this point, the story has been all about Marion. We sympathise with her, even if we don't agree with her actions. It's a truly shocking moment when she's murdered- but it's a truly iconic one too. It's a moment that has been referenced and parodied throughout popular culture- there's a particularly elegant pastiche of it in an early episode of The Simpsons. The scene, which took a week to film, features seventy-seven different camera angles. Psycho is filmed in black-and-white so the blood in the shower was actually Bosco chocolate syrup which looks more realistic than stage blood. The sound effects of the stabbing were achieved by stabbing a knife into a casaba melon. Due to the frenetic editing during the attack, you never see the knife penetrate flesh (although it does touch it at one point). The audience's mind does most of the work. There is no truth to the rumour that Hitchcock made the water run ice-cold in the shower to elicit a genuine scream from Janet Leigh. There also seems to be no truth to the rumour that Saul Bass- who storyboarded several scenes and created the title sequence for this and other of Hitchcock's films (Vertigo and North By Northwest)- actually directed the shower scene, although he would have storyboarded it.

One of the integral parts of Psycho is Bernard Herrmann's sublime score. Recorded using only string instruments, it is one of the most recognisable scores in movie history. Despite Hitchcock's objection to there being music in the motel scenes, he soon changed his mind when he heard 'The Murder'- the infamous shrieking strings that accompany the shower scene. Hitchcock later remarked that '33% of the effect of Psycho was due to the music' and reportedly doubled Herrmann's salary to $34,501. The film simply would not have the impact it does without Herrmann's score.

There are strong performances throughout, with Anthony Perkins giving such a brilliant performance as Norman Bates that it nearly ruined his career (as he was constantly typecast). He's nervy and can deliver lines like 'We all go a little mad sometimes' without sounding like a lunatic. Even though he doesn't say a word in the final scene, he is absolutely chilling. Leigh gives a warm and empathetic performance as Marion which makes her demise all the more shocking. Martin Balsam gives a solid performance as Milton Arbogast, a detective who is commissioned to find out what happened to her sister; his murder is another shocking and unsignposted moment. Vera Miles is also strong as Lila, although John Gavin's performance as Sam is a little wooden in places. Simon Oakland's slightly hammy performance as Dr. Richmond in the final scenes also slightly detracts from the explanation he's giving.

The marketing and promotion for Psycho was a masterstroke by Hitchcock. The original trailer was over six minutes long and featured Hitchcock giving a tour of the house and motel, culminating with a shock... Cinema managers were sent large cardboard cut-outs of Hitchcock pointing to his watch with a message stating that 'The manager of this theatre has been instructed at the risk of his life, not to admit to the theatre any persons after the picture starts'. There would be no late admissions to any screening; if you missed the beginning, you simply had to wait for the next screening (a ploy that should be revived today, if you ask me). Newspaper adverts confirmed the 'no late admission' policy, and also asked people who had seen the film not to give the ending away as 'it's the only one we have'. So determined was Hitchcock to preserve the plot that he forbade Leigh and Perkins from doing promotional interviews (preferring to do them himself) and also did not give advance private screenings to film critics- meaning the critics had to line up with the general public to get to see the film. Early reviews were, as you might expect, mixed; but one reviewer- C.A. Lejeune- was so offended by the film, she not only walked out of the screening but resigned as film critic for The Observer.

It was nominated for four Academy Awards- Best Director, Best Supporting Actress for Leigh, Best Cinematography (Black-And-White) and Best Art Direction-Set Decoration (Black-And-White)- but sadly did not win any, although Leigh did win a Golden Globe for Best Supporting Actress. It was also selected for preservation in the National Film Registry in 1992. It's also spawned two sequels- Psycho II (1983) and Psycho III (1986)- as well as a TV movie prequel- Psycho IV: The Beginning (1990)- all of which starred Anthony Perkins. There was also a truly dire, excruciatingly pointless virtually shot-for-shot colour remake by Gus Van Sant in 1998 which is best avoided. A television series, Bates Motel, based on the early life of Norman Bates (to be played by Freddie Highmore) is currently in production.

I had the very good fortune to see Psycho on the big screen in 1998, in an art-house cinema in Cardiff. It was an absolutely thrilling experience. Shocking, tense and gripping, Psycho truly is a masterpiece.

Tez

Programme 24: Argo and 1960s Movies

The Watchers Film Show: Ep 24 from The Watchers Film Show on Vimeo.


Programme 24 is now available!

Tez reviews Ben Affleck's latest movie Argo and we discuss our favourite movies from the 1960s!

In the news, there's a belated sequel to a Hollywood classic, the opening weekend box office for Skyfall and casting rumours for a Tarzan remake.

Podcasts versions are also available here and here.

Enjoy!

What Ever Happened To Baby Jane? (1962)

Currently on tour around the country is a wonderful play called Bette And Joan, which shows the intense rivalry between screen greats Bette Davis and Joan Crawford as they filmed the 1962 classic horror-thriller What Ever Happened To Baby Jane? which was the only time the two screen legends worked together. Infamous for the backstage tricks the two actresses played on each other, the film is a brilliant, campy concoction, full of eminently quotable lines and brimful of great performances. 

The plot is straightforward: former child star 'Baby' Jane Hudson (Davis) and her actress sister Blanche (Crawford)  live together in a decaying Hollywood mansion. Blanche is wheelchair-bound after a drunken car accident seemingly caused by Jane  left her crippled. Jane is firmly in control and takes delight in mentally torturing Blanche, whilst planning a comeback of her own. Into the picture comes mamma's boy pianist Edwin Flagg (Victor Buono) who sees Jane's comeback as a way to make himself rich. But when Elvira the domestic help (Maidie Norman) starts to get too close to the dark truth of the Hudson house, Jane takes an extreme course of action which leads to tragedy...

The screenplay, adapted by Lukas Heller from the novel by Henry Farrell, seems to be a pretty straightforward potboiler. However, the spark and verve from the two performances by Davis and Crawford- along with assured direction from Robert Aldrich- really elevate this film from mediocre schlock to a campy cult classic- in no small part thanks to the utterly enjoyable over-the-top performance by Bette Davis.

I contend that Baby Jane Hudson is Davis' second best performance on film (her first being the exquisite Margo Channing in All About Eve). Jane is a slovenly, sarcastic, bitter and downright cruel character and Davis plays her to the hilt. Face slathered with thick make-up, she slouches round the house spitting barbs to her sainted sister. With Edwin, she is coquettish and flirty (a deeply discomfiting sight). But there are moments of genuine class too; rehearsing one of her childhood vaudeville numbers, she catches sight of herself, haggard and old, in the mirror and breaks down. It's a performance full of fire and it's an absolute crying shame she didn't get her third (or fourth) Oscar for this performance.

I've never much been a fan of Joan Crawford or her movies, but I have to admit she is a perfect foil for Davis' borderline-hysterical turn. She suffers like a true martyr in a series of bizarrely sumptuous nightgowns and takes the barbs and dead animals from Davis like a pro. Towards the end, there's a rather beautiful scene where Blanche makes a long-kept confession and Crawford does play the scene extremely well. The other main performance of the film is that of Victor Buono, an actor who would later go on to be perhaps best known for playing King Tut in the 1960s series of Batman. This was his first film role and garnered a Best Supporting Actor nod for his troubles. He took over the role from Peter Lawford and is wonderful as the scheming little milquetoast, unaware that this gig won't make him rich at all.

The story on-screen is a torrid tale of rivalry, but the backstage story is no less tantalising. Despite various protestations from both actresses, Davis and Crawford couldn't stand one another. Their professional rivalry stretched back to the start of their careers. They were roughly the same age (although Crawford was actually older) and were up for the same kind of parts. The rivalry really seemed to kick off when Davis made a crack that Crawford had slept with every male star on the MGM set apart from Lassie! It seemed unlikely that the two would ever work together, but the deal was struck and the two divas faced one another. 

The filming of What Ever Happened To Baby Jane? was beset by little tricks played by the actresses on each other. Crawford was the widow of Alfred Steele, CEO of Pepsi-Cola, so Davis arranged to have a Coca-Cola machine installed on set. In a scene where Jane has to haul Blanche out of bed, Crawford wore a weighted belt and Davis subsequently strained her back when she lifted the near-lifeless Crawford. In a scene where Jane viciously attacks Blanche, kicking her repeatedly, Davis made contact with Crawford's head, resulting in a deep wound which required stitches. You could hardly imagine anything like this happening on a movie set these days.

When the film was released, it was a smash, grossing nine million dollars. It was nominated for five Oscars, winning for Best Costume Design. As such, another horror-thriller starring Bette Davis and Joan Crawford was announced - Hush... Hush, Sweet Charlotte. However, due to either a craven act of cowardice on Crawford's part or Davis' manipulations being too much (depending on whose story you believe), Crawford withdrew from the picture and was replaced by Olivia de Havilland. 

What Ever Happened To Baby Jane? remains one of my favourite films of all time and is well worth a look. And if the film piques your interest about these two leading ladies and their feud (as well as the filming of What Ever Happened To Baby Jane?) I would highly recommend Bette And Joan: The Divine Feud by Shaun Considine, which is an eminently well-researched and even-handed book about these two complex women.