It was obvious that additional material would be necessary to make the story feature film length, but I was intrigued by what they chose to elongate. Much detail was added to the relationship between Marty and Clara in-between them meeting at the Waverly (now Stardust) ballroom and them returning to Marty's home. There was much more detail by ways of them walking down the street, and stopping for a meal at a diner. It seems to me that the most obvious reasons for such additions was the quickness of Marty meeting a girl to bringing her back to his house. When he tries to kiss her while in the kitchen, he states that he wasn't going to try anything (especially since his mother would soon be home), but what was his motivation for bringing her then?(this could also just be 21st century cynicism of male-female relationships)
In addition, while the movie may attempt to heighten Clara's virtue, the virtue of Marty's mother tasks a small assault. When waiting to go into Sunday Mass, the Mother follows much of the same dialogue as the teleplay, telling Marty that Clara doesn't look like a nice girl (mostly because she's "ugly" and not Italian). in the teleplay, when Marty excuses himself to go into church, the mother has a moment of self-reflection as she says to the audience that based on her harsh words, she is becoming as based as her sister. This moment is left out of the film. Without this one sentence, does the mother (and audience) lose this moment of regret and self-awareness? Does her womanly virtue as a mother take a hit, as she schemes against her son's desires for companionship?
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Threats to the Family
I am intrigued by the conversation about motherhood and care giving within Chayefsky's Marty. Women are primarily portrayed as caring and highly put upon, while men (especially unmarried bachelors) live off the work of women. Largely, the women within the film express genuine emotions and live within a realistic—if somewhat sad—world. However, no positive female characters are shown to interact outside of the domestic or caring realm. Even Clara works as a school teacher, mentioning her students in a loving fashion and refusing to take an administrative role in order to remain with “her children.” The script ultimately reduces all real conflict to domestic drama. While Marty does experience certain ups and downs regarding his social class and job, the public world of work represents the potential for expansion and growth. Instead, real conflict originates within the world of family, and must therefore be resolved there.
Women never really escape the home. The dialogue between Marty's mother and aunt bemoaning the horrors of old age for women focuses on the loss of work. Nowhere in the script or the film do women have options to occupy their time other than caring for others. When Clara offers the idea of Marty's aunt getting a hobby, Marty's mother dismisses it as idealistic and overly academic. Men have options outside of the home, but Chayefsky portrays these options as masturbatory and expressions of “middle class latent homosexuality.” Despite the trouble and stress that comes from marriage and family, Marty sees the family as the ultimate site for happiness.
However, Chayefsky seems to see “latent homosexuality” as a major threat to the nuclear family's stability and happiness. The film adaptation certainly accented the threat that Angie (who's name is suspiciously feminine) posed to Marty's future. His attempt to hunt down and sabotage Marty and Clara's relationship almost trumps Marty's mother's disapproval. Heteronormativity is endangered by even heterosexuals, in Chayefsky's world, in a ways that makes it surprising that nuclear families ever form.
Women never really escape the home. The dialogue between Marty's mother and aunt bemoaning the horrors of old age for women focuses on the loss of work. Nowhere in the script or the film do women have options to occupy their time other than caring for others. When Clara offers the idea of Marty's aunt getting a hobby, Marty's mother dismisses it as idealistic and overly academic. Men have options outside of the home, but Chayefsky portrays these options as masturbatory and expressions of “middle class latent homosexuality.” Despite the trouble and stress that comes from marriage and family, Marty sees the family as the ultimate site for happiness.
However, Chayefsky seems to see “latent homosexuality” as a major threat to the nuclear family's stability and happiness. The film adaptation certainly accented the threat that Angie (who's name is suspiciously feminine) posed to Marty's future. His attempt to hunt down and sabotage Marty and Clara's relationship almost trumps Marty's mother's disapproval. Heteronormativity is endangered by even heterosexuals, in Chayefsky's world, in a ways that makes it surprising that nuclear families ever form.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Marty and the Antagonistic Old
I’ve seen the film version of Marty before so it was interesting to read the teleplay. It will also be interesting to watch a scene from the television movie, especially since Rod Steiger plays Marty—I’ve never seen anything with Rod Steiger in which he plays a character as likable as Marty.
One thing that the teleplay, the t.v. movie (at least I’m guessing), and the film share is their somewhat negative portrayal of the older generation. This older generation, primarily comprised in the narrative of Marty’s mother and aunt, is in many ways portrayed as an antagonist to Marty’s generation. Interestingly enough, it is approximately the same generation as Geremio and Annuziata in Christ in Concrete. They are a generation that has experienced the various economic hardships the working class faced during the early decades of the twentieth century culminating in the Great Depression. But the Great Depression is something Marty’s generation faced as well. If he’s thirty-six in the play, and it is set in 1953, he would have been about twenty during the mid 1930s. So why has his generation been able to cope with and benefit from the post-war boom—and the economic, political, and cultural changes that it brought—while his parent’s generation has refused many of them? Old age? The fear of change? Economic uncertainty among an older generation that’s unable to work and must depend on their children or possibly Social Security, which was passed during the Depression? In his essay printed after the teleplay, Chayefsky seems to single Marty’s generation as its own antagonist. But he doesn’t mention the antagonistic part that the older generation plays. Maybe this is something we can talk more about during class.
One thing that the teleplay, the t.v. movie (at least I’m guessing), and the film share is their somewhat negative portrayal of the older generation. This older generation, primarily comprised in the narrative of Marty’s mother and aunt, is in many ways portrayed as an antagonist to Marty’s generation. Interestingly enough, it is approximately the same generation as Geremio and Annuziata in Christ in Concrete. They are a generation that has experienced the various economic hardships the working class faced during the early decades of the twentieth century culminating in the Great Depression. But the Great Depression is something Marty’s generation faced as well. If he’s thirty-six in the play, and it is set in 1953, he would have been about twenty during the mid 1930s. So why has his generation been able to cope with and benefit from the post-war boom—and the economic, political, and cultural changes that it brought—while his parent’s generation has refused many of them? Old age? The fear of change? Economic uncertainty among an older generation that’s unable to work and must depend on their children or possibly Social Security, which was passed during the Depression? In his essay printed after the teleplay, Chayefsky seems to single Marty’s generation as its own antagonist. But he doesn’t mention the antagonistic part that the older generation plays. Maybe this is something we can talk more about during class.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Adaptation as Bricklaying
I thought Give Us This Day to be an excellent adaptation of Christ in Concrete. It attempts to address many of the same potential problems the class attached to the novel, especially the overly romanticized characterization of Geremio. Instead of portraying him as literally a Christ buried in concrete, the film offers us a more well-rounded portrayal of him: his character faults and strengths, including how they interact with a socio-economic environment that only cares for the laborer one out of every three weeks, when he's needed to lay bricks, and only pays up when he's dead. We also get a potentially more rounded characterization of Annuziata as well. She's no longer a Jesu-nut but periodically drinks wine before the sun goes down and is primarily interested in owning property.
This is not to say that I liked the film better than the novel or that I liked the film's characters better than those of the novel. Different mediums/forms offer different ways of portraying subject-matter, and not necessarily the same subject-matter either. The film is interested in the family's struggle to buy a house, whereas the book is interested in the family's struggle to survive. They also deal with different primary characters--the film with Geremio and Annuziata and the novel with Paul and to a lesser extent Annuziata. Perhaps this is what makes the film so successful as an adaptation: not trying to replicate the novel's narrative but explore unresolved aspects of it, adding its own brick to those of the novel.
This is not to say that I liked the film better than the novel or that I liked the film's characters better than those of the novel. Different mediums/forms offer different ways of portraying subject-matter, and not necessarily the same subject-matter either. The film is interested in the family's struggle to buy a house, whereas the book is interested in the family's struggle to survive. They also deal with different primary characters--the film with Geremio and Annuziata and the novel with Paul and to a lesser extent Annuziata. Perhaps this is what makes the film so successful as an adaptation: not trying to replicate the novel's narrative but explore unresolved aspects of it, adding its own brick to those of the novel.
Give Us This Day
Give Us This Day presented a movie based on, but very different from the book Christ in Concrete. The focus shifted entirely from a boy and his struggles to provide for the family, to the father of the household and his story before the boy ever had to take over the family business. In my opinion this lost all the sentimentality and intensity of the novel. Geremio’s struggle in the film did not nearly seem as pressurized at that of his family in the book. He only has three children, becomes foreman, and only has to worry about his promise of buying his wife a home. Geremio’s character in the film is not nearly as likeable as his own wife is rather indifferent to his death, whereas in the novel her devastation from his death is heartbreaking.
I was curious as to why they would make such dramatic distinctions between these too. The story very obviously seemed to lie with Paul, even for the film. However, I think an important thing to remember is that a film must call for an audience. In 1949, much like the Man in the Grey Flannel Suit, a large audience was the workingman and the struggle to survive in an indifferent world. Three children appeals much more to the average American workingman than eight would. Furthermore the need of a mistress and the stresses between home and working life are highlighted because these are the stresses men of the time feel.
In the novel Pietro di Donato was simply trying to relate experiences he had as a boy and the culture and hardships he had to endure. The audience was not as obvious, save for those who experienced similar tragedies during the Depression. Yet films need to relate to something. In this case they chose the working class man. In such a way, the filmmakers needed to abandon Donato’s voice and experience in favor of relation to an audience.
I was curious as to why they would make such dramatic distinctions between these too. The story very obviously seemed to lie with Paul, even for the film. However, I think an important thing to remember is that a film must call for an audience. In 1949, much like the Man in the Grey Flannel Suit, a large audience was the workingman and the struggle to survive in an indifferent world. Three children appeals much more to the average American workingman than eight would. Furthermore the need of a mistress and the stresses between home and working life are highlighted because these are the stresses men of the time feel.
In the novel Pietro di Donato was simply trying to relate experiences he had as a boy and the culture and hardships he had to endure. The audience was not as obvious, save for those who experienced similar tragedies during the Depression. Yet films need to relate to something. In this case they chose the working class man. In such a way, the filmmakers needed to abandon Donato’s voice and experience in favor of relation to an audience.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Mustache
This was probably my favorite movie we've watched so far. At least for me it did a terrific job conveying a really bleak mood. Although certain parts had some theaterish acting, the emotions were communicated to me very well. I felt a lot of tension, anxiety, and sympathy for both the mustache man and the salt wife. The search for "something more" was way more apparent in this movie than in the Man in the Grey Flannel Suit film. It seemed to portray the theme of the flannel man book more accurately than the flannel man film did. I felt sorry for the characters and the concrete drowning was especially gruesome. The character seemed to be arcing towards a positive ending, and then everything goes wrong. I like that because it avoids the common tendency of throwing the events of the entire story out for a clean, all-loose-ends-tied ending. I hardly recognized the mustache man when he was shown without a mustache.
A Mistress, Really?
I haven't seen the film yet, but from what Agatha told me, I don't think I will like it. Geremio has a mistress? I don't understand this alteration because it changes everything about Geremio and Annunziata. Annunziata, and through her pain, Paul dotes on the memory of Geremio, even going to visit the psychic to makes sure he isn't in any pain on the other side. Can this strong connection withhold such a schism as infidelity? I wonder if this would change Annunziata's belief in her husband and strong connection to God. Then again, this all depends on Annunziata being aware of the affair.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)