Cracks in the Wall: Marty, The Bridge on the River Kwai, and the Decline of the Hollywood Blacklist.

Kim Novak accepts the Oscar on behalf of
The Bridge on the River Kwai's screenplay.

On March 25, 1958, the 30th Academy Awards honored excellence in the movies for the year 1957. To no one's surprise, David Lean's The Bridge on the River Kwai won several awards: Best Picture, Best Actor for Alec Guinnes, Best Cinematography, Best Film Editing, Best Scoring... and Best Screenplay Based on Material from Another Medium.

The script was credited to Pierre Boulle, the author of the novel on which it was based. Boulle did not appear to collect his award, with actress Kim Novak delivering the acceptance speech - an extremely short speech, lasting less than 20 seconds:

"My boss, the late Mr. Harry Cohn, was very, very proud of this film, The Bridge on the River Kwai, as all of us at Columbia are. And I am very honored and very happy to accept this award for Pierre Boulle. Thank you."

Boulle, a French novelist who was not English-fluent, had no hand in the screenplay, which was actually the work of Carl Foreman and Michael Wilson... two screenwriters who were on the Hollywood blacklist.

It was the second year in a row that a screenwriting Oscar went to a film that was actually from a blacklisted writer. The previous year, The Brave One had won the Academy Award for Best Story. Though credited to the pseudonymous Robert Rich, it was actually the work of Dalton Trumbo.

For two years running, the Academy Awards had recognized the work of those who had been blacklisted. Even more importantly, blacklisted writers were now being hired to write - however anonymously - increasingly major releases.

A mere ten years since its start, and only five years since it reached its height, the blacklist's iron grip was loosening...

A hearing of the House Un-American Activities Committee.

THE ORIGINS OF THE BLACKLIST: 1946 - 1952

"I do not consider this committee to be stupid, on the contrary I consider it to be evil. It is not communism the House Committee on the un-American Activities fears, but the human mind..."
-writer/director Herbert Biberman, 1947.

I already discussed the blacklist and its origins in an earlier post. To briefly summarize, it started with The Hollywood Ten: a group of writers, producers, and directors who refused to give testimony before the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC). The Ten were cited for contempt, and they became the first Hollywood figures to be blacklisted from the industry.

There is no doubt that this group included people who were Communists or who had flirted with or sympathized with Communism in the late 1930s and/or early 1940s. Then again, that was not a crime at any point, not even during the blacklist.

No evidence was presented at the HUAC hearings that Hollywood movies had been used to spread "subversive messages." Soviet espionage was, as one would expect, centered on governmental institutions, not on entertainment. The most that can really be said is that Trumbo and some other influential figures reportedly prevented anti-communist scripts from being produced in the 1940s.

Even so, in 1952 the Screen Writers Guild authorized the omission of credits for writers who had failed to clear themselves before Congress. In so doing, the union officially codified the blacklist.

The Brave One (1956). Its Oscar winning script, credited to Robert Rich, was written by Dalton Trumbo.

WORKING ANONYMOUSLY:

"When the facilities of the government of the United States are drawn on an individual it can be terrifying. The blacklist is just the opening gambit - being deprived of work... After a certain point it grows to implied as well as articulated threats, and people succumb."
-Actor Lee J. Cobb, in an interview with Victor Navasky for his book, Naming Names.

The damage done by the blacklist to lives and careers should not be understated. Playwright-turned-screenwriter Bertolt Brecht was blacklisted after refusing to give testimony; when he finally cooperated, he found himself ostracized by the artistic community that had previously celebrated him. Actor Sterling Hayden spent the rest of his life plagued by guilt, with his later alcoholism and depression regularly linked to his regrets at being "a stool pigeon." Actor Philip Loeb fell into depression and committed suicide. Those are just a handful of many examples of careers damaged and lives ruined.

Blacklisted writers had options denied to blacklisted stars, because their work did not depend on their identities. Many continued to work under assumed names. Film portrayals of this include (one-time blacklisted) director Martin Ritt's 1976 comedy/drama The Front and director Jay Roach's fact-based 2015 drama, Trumbo.

Gradually, this anonymous work moved from "B" pictures to higher-profile films. A full year before The Brave One, Dalton Trumbo and Michael Wilson contributed to the script for Otto Preminger's The Court-Martial of Billy Mitchell, a script which was itself nominated for an Academy Award.

Blacklist proponents likely consoled themselves that, at the very least, these writers were going uncredited. Still, even at the blacklist's height, the writers it was supposed to stop were continuing to be paid to work in their chosen industry. In short, the first cracks were already forming.

Betsy Blair plays the title character's love interest in Marty (1955).

PUBLIC CREDIT: BETSY BLAIR AND MARTY

"(Marty) demonstrates that story, performance, and direction always count... (Betsy Blair is) impressive in her finely etched delineation of the sensitive schoolteacher."
-Variety's Mar. 22, 1955 review of Marty.

Actess Betsy Blair appeared in films such as 1947's A Double Life, 1948's The Snake Pit, and 1951's Kind Lady. She was also a left-wing political activist, which earned the scrutiny of the HUAC. By her own admission, she had attempted to join the American Communist Party in the 1940s. She was rejected, primarily because the communists didn't want to compromise the career of her husband, Gene Kelly.

Though he was never a communist, Kelly was openly progressive in his politics. He was also a legitimate superstar - and even at the height of the Second Red Scare, his success provided a shield. Blair would later reflect on her good fortune compared to some of her contemporaries, observing that, "to sit out the McCarthy era in a house on Rodeo Drive as Mrs. Gene Kelly is not so bad."

In 1955, Kelly insisted that she be cast as Clara, the love interest for the title character in Marty, reportedly threatening to pull out of MGM's It's Always Fair Weather if his demand was not met. By 1955, the Red Scare was starting to wane, and Marty was a low-budget release that was not expected to have much visibility. Simply put: The studio did the math and concluded that the reward of having Gene Kelly in a major release was worth the risk of featuring Betsy Blair in a minor one.

Against all expectations, Marty became a critical and commercial success. It earned roughly $3.5 million worldwide against a $350,000 budget, and it went on to win multiple Oscars including Best Picture. Blair was nominated as Best Supporting Actress, despite being officially blacklisted.

True, she would never have been cast had her husband been anyone else. Still, a blacklisted actress was nominated for an Oscar playing the female lead in a highly successful motion picture, and her career resumed immediately thereafter. As I wrote in my review of Marty, I doubt this would have been the result in 1952, when the Red Scare and the blacklist were at their strongest. It was just a few years later, but the ground was already shifting.

Bridge on the River Kwai: Col. Nicholson (Alec Guinness) reflects on his life.

CARL FOREMAN, MICHAEL WILSON, AND THE BRIDGE ON THE RIVER KWAI:

"There are times when suddenly, you realize you're nearer the end than the beginning. And you wonder, you ask yourself what the sum total of your life represents, what difference your being there at any time made to anything... I don't know whether that kind of thinking's very healthy, but I must admit I've had some thoughts on those lines from time to time."
-Col. Nicholson (Alec Guinness) in The Bridge on the River Kwai.

Though the original screenplay credit for The Bridge on the River Kwai went to novelist Pierre Boulle, it was actually scripted by Carl Foreman and Michael Wilson. They worked separately. Foreman delivered the first two drafts. David Lean was dissatisfied, and he brought in Michael Wilson to do rewrites. Wilson would later work (also originally uncredited) on Lean's follow-up epic, Lawrence of Arabia.

I think it says much about the waning power of the blacklist that such a high-profile picture was entrusted to two blacklisted writers. Even more notable is David Lean's coy response to questions about the authorship. Instead of denying the controversy, he fanned the flames, telling a reporter: "You're asking me the $64,000 question, and as you've not got $64,000, I don't propose to answer it!"

Kirk Douglas in Spartacus (1960), one of two films that broke the Hollywood blacklist.

KIRK DOUGLAS, OTTO PREMINGER, AND THE BREAKING OF THE BLACKLIST:

"When I first came to Hollywood, the blacklist was just starting, and they were having hearings in Washington. What most people don't know is the judge of these hearings himself was later convicted of misappropriation. Spartacus helped break the blacklist, because Spartacus was a real character."
-Kirk Douglas, reflecting on the blacklist and his role in ending it.

The blacklist was always doomed, just as the Hays Code was. What's interesting is that both codes decayed at roughly the same time, with some of the same names striking decisive blows.

When I discussed the Hays Code, I noted that one of the factors in its downfall was an influx of European directors who scoffed at these restrictions. One such director was Otto Preminger, a man who thrived on controversy. He made The Moon Is Blue and The Man with the Golden Arm without Hays Code approval. Both films became box office hits.

In January 1960, Preminger announced that Dalton Trumbo - one of the original Hollywood Ten - would adapt Leon Uris's Exodus. Trumbo had (anonymously) co-scripted Preminger's The Court-Martial of Billy Mitchell, and the director believed he was the correct writer to bring Exodus to life. Also, as with his Hays Code defiance, he liked doing things that he wasn't "allowed" to do. For him, any outrage created by Trumbo's contribution would be considered a bonus.

At about the same time, Trumbo scripted another major release: producer/star Kirk Douglas's epic, Spartacus. Per Kirk Douglas's autobiography, The Ragman's Son, the plan had been to leave Trumbo uncredited. In the book, Douglas describes a meeting with co-producer Edward Lewis and director Stanley Kubrick, in which Kubrick suggested - a little too eagerly - that he be named as writer. In disgust, Douglas called the front gate at Universal Studios to leave a pass for Trumbo.

Both Exodus and Spartacus were hits, proving that the blacklist no longer held any sway over moviegoers. Walter Winchell reported on Trumbo's association with the movies, as did others. It had no impact on the film's box office.

The Hollywood blacklist had been broken.

The restored screenplay credits on the blu-ray. This was not how it was credited in 1957.

POST-SCRIPT:

"If I were 'clean,' my name would already be alongside yours as co-author of this picture."
-Michael Wilson to credited screenwriter Robert Bolt on Lawrence of Arabia

In 1985, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences finally gave awards to Foreman and Wilson (posthumously) for their work on The Bridge on the River Kwai. The "Pierre Boulle" credit remained on VHS releases; but later DVD, blu ray, and streaming versions would credit Foreman and Wilson.

By the time Kwai was released to theaters, Carl Foreman had already returned to Hollywood. In August 1956, he testified a second time before the HUAC. It was basically for show. Columbia Pictures wanted to work with Foreman, and an already-weakened HUAC passed him despite his continued refusal to name anyone. Foreman said enough of the right things in denouncing communism, the HUAC gave their approval, and Columbia announced a four-picture deal the following March.

In a well-structured movie, the breaking of the blacklist in 1960 would have been the end of it. This was not the case, as there were after-effects. For example: Michael Wilson, co-writer of The Bridge on the River Kwai, wrote the first three drafts of Lawrence of Arabia. Though he was replaced with Robert Bolt, Wilson established the structure used in the final film - but when it was released, Bolt was the sole credited writer.

Wilson would express bitterness about this, stating (as quoted above) that he would have shared credit had he been perceived as "clean." The restoration of his name to the film in the 1990s would seem to bear this out.

But then, life tends to be a little messier than a well-structured Hollywood screenplay.

Review: Marty (1955)
Review; The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957)

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1957: The Bridge on the River Kwai.

Col. Nicholson (Alec Guinness) resolves to maintain his men's pride - even at the cost of collaboration!

Release Date: Oct. 2, 1957. Running Time: 161 minutes. Screenplay: Carl Foreman, Michael Wilson (originally uncredited; credit restored). Based on the novel, The Bridge over the River Kwai, by Pierre Boulle. Producer: Sam Spiegel. Director: David Lean.


THE PLOT:

Commander Shears (William Holden) is a prisoner at a camp in Japanese occupied Thailand. When the extremely English Colonel Nicholson (Alec Guinness) and his men march into camp in perfect formation, Shears regards them with bemusement, fully expecting that he will soon be digging graves for them the same as he has for many of those he was captured with.

Colonel Saito (Sessue Hayakawa), the camp commandant, informs the new arrivals that they will be constructing a bridge over the River Kwai. When he adds that the British officers will work alongside the enlisted men, Nicholson balks, insisting that the Geneva Convention forbids using officers for manual labor. This sets up a contest of wills, with the British officers subjected to intense punishment.

Shears does not wait to see the end of the standoff. He escapes, eventually making his way to Allied territory. Meanwhile, Saito, under increasing pressure to finish the bridge by an unrealistic deadline, accedes to Nicholson's demands.

The bridge now becomes Nicholson's obsession. With the enthusiastic support of his men, he resolves to teach the Japanese "a lesson in Western efficiency that will put them to shame." There's only one problem. Shears has been assigned to help a team of British commandoes. Their mission? To blow up the bridge!

Despite intense punishment, Nicholson refuses to compromise.

ALEC GUINNESS AS COLONEL NICHOLSON:

Alec Guinness won an Oscar, and he dominates the screen as the proud and stubborn British colonel. One of many memorable moments sees him brought before Saito to try to find a compromise. He is haggard, his skin has a corpse-like pallor, and he has difficulty even walking. Even so, he draws himself up, carrying himself with as much strength as he can muster even though he's on the brink of collapse.

Nicholson is a heroic figure for the movie's first half. Even when he begins proper work on the bridge, he backs up that choice with sound reasoning. He sees that his men have descended into a rabble, and the bridge gives them a task that can be used to restore their sense of self-worth. As the project continues, the project becomes less about British pride and more about his own personal pride, even as his actions hew ever closer to outright collaboration with the enemy.

Shears (William Holden) and the other prisoners observe the conflict between Nicholson and Saito.

OTHER CHARACTERS:

Commander Shears: The start of the conflict between Nicholson and Saito is filtered through his reactions, which are those of a man who is perfectly happy to swallow his pride if it means he gets to stay alive. When Nicholson insists that the Japanese must be made to understand that they are soldiers and not slaves, Shears counters that he's willing to be "a slave - a living slave." It's not that he's a coward, as the second half shows at several points. He simply has no patience for the kind of romantic, self-satisfied heroics that, in his experience, just end up getting people killed.

Major Warden: The officer in charge of the mission... and he makes one wonder if Apocalypse Now's napalm-loving Kilgore had a British uncle in World War II. Warden plays with explosives with the glee of a child with a toy science kit. He is totally devoted to the mission, valuing its success over the lives of his men, an attitude he justifies all the way through to his final scene. At one point, Shears scornfully compares him to Nicholson, and it's apt as both men take their idea of duty to an extreme that becomes indistinguishable from madness.

Col. Saito: One-time silent movie star Sessue Hayakawa was nominated for a Supporting Actor Oscar as the camp commandant, and he should have won. As great as Alec Guinness is, the test of wills between Nicholson and Saito would be meaningless if Hayakawa didn't provide an equal and opposite presence. Saito is desperate not to lose face by capitulating to Nicholson. He attempts various tactics, from physical punishment to trying to get the enlisted POWs on his side by criticizing the officers' unwillingness to work. When he finally gives in, Nicholson emerges from the "oven" to a hero's welcome from his men... and Saito weeps in private, feeling every ounce of the shame at effectively surrendering to his own prisoner.

Major Clipton: The camp medic, and in many ways the movie's moral center. During the Nicholson/Saito conflict, each colonel tries to appeal to him to get the other to bend, and each describes the other as "mad." Clipton decides they're both mad. Once Nicholson has taken charge of the construction, he's the only British prisoner not persuaded by the project. "Why must we work so well?" he asks, and he is the only one among the British to even try to get Nicholson to see that his actions could be considered collaboration. His is the final face shown in the movie, as he delivers the memorable final lines. Actor James Donald sells all of this perfectly, the lines on his face as important as his voice as he decries the insanity.

Nicholson surveys the (lack of) progress on the bridge.

THOUGHTS:

"I hate the British! You are defeated, but you have no shame. You are stubborn but have no pride. You endure, but you have no courage!"
-Col. Saito erupts in response to Nicholson's stubbornness.

The Bridge on the River Kwai is often regarded as one of the greatest films of the 1950s, and it's become a mainstay on lists of the best war pictures of all time. It also completely changed the career of director David Lean. Before Kwai, he was a prolific helmer of (mostly excellent) character-based stories, with titles that included: Blithe Spirit, Brief Encounter, Great Expectations, Hobson's Choice, and Summertime. After this movie, all of his films were made on an epic scale - and they became rare events, with him making fewer movies across the rest of his career than he had helmed in the rest of the 1950s alone.


VISUAL STORYTELLING AND INDELIBLE MOMENTS:

When you talk about Bridge on the River Kwai, the first thing that will come to the mind of almost anyone who's watched it is the "Colonel Bogey" scene. Both the current prisoners and the Japanese look on in amazement as Nicholson and his men march into camp in perfect formation while whistling. They take their positions and continue march in place for entire minutes, a defiant show of their spirit.

If that was all there was to the scene, it would be memorable. But Lean also cuts from the spectacle of the march to the feet of the soldiers, showing some men with worn out shoes rotting off their feet and others who are already barefoot. No words are used comment on this, either here or later; the film trusts itself and its audience enough to simply deliver the visual information.

Lean supplies indelible images throughout. When Nicholson refuses to allow himself or his officers to perform manual labor, Saito leaves the defiant officers to stand at attention, baking all day in the harsh sun. Without dialogue, the film dissolves to the glare of the sun beating down on Nicholson, then to a wide shot of the colonel and his officers. What follows is a sustained sequence of the officers standing in place. One finally collapses, and he is left where he falls until the day reaches its end. At that point, the collapsed man is dragged away while the others are sent to even harsher punishment.

The visual storytelling extends to Nicholson's character arc. In the first half of the film, he is frequently seen with his men behind him, culminating in the moment when he wins the contest with Saito and his hoisted onto the shoulders of his subordinates. Even when he shares the screen with Saito, he stands opposite the Japanese colonel, framed as an adversary. By the movie's final Act, however, Nicholson is repeatedly framed with Saito: standing together as they survey the bridge, or walking together under the bridge even as the commando raid reaches its climax. The staging emphasizes what the story has shown: That Nicholson has, however unintentionally, become Saito's ally rather than his enemy.

A reluctant Shears is "volunteered" to join a commando mission.

MEMORABLE DIALOGUE:

The visual storytelling never comes at the expense of the spoken dialogue. The screenplay was originally credited to the book's author, Pierre Boulle, but in reality it was the work of blacklisted writers Carl Foreman and Michael Wilson. I'll discuss the blacklist issue in a supplemental post. For the purposes of the review, it's enough to note that the script is stuffed with splendid dialogue.

For a movie that's dark in tone, it's surprising how much humor there is. It's dark and cynical humor, offering the release of a chuckle or even a full laugh without breaking the atmosphere. An early scene has Saito telling Nicholson that he will have to commit ritual suicide if he fails to complete the bridge. Nicholson dryly responds: "I suppose if I were you, I'd have to kill myself." This is punctuated brilliantly with Nicholson, who has so far refused Saito's offer of a drink, picking up the glass and offering a gleeful, "Cheers!"

Later, in the other converging storyline, William Holden's Shears finds that he's been "volunteered" to join Major Warden's mission. He is quietly but increasingly alarmed by the major's attitude. The mission involves a parachute drop, something Shears has never been trained for. Warden is utterly unconcerned, telling him to simply "jump and hope for the best." Shears asks: "With or without parachute?" The officers laugh at what they see as a splendid jape, while Shears just looks on with weary resignation.

There are a few splendid monologues: Saito's frustrated eruption at Nicholson, Shears' angry denunciation of treating war as a game, Nicholson's wistful reverie on the completed bridge. All of these are much quoted, and with good reason.

That said, I think my favorite exchange is the tiny character moment that precedes Nicholson's last monologue. Nicholson is standing on the bridge with Col. Saito. The commandant stares up at the sunset and remarks on its beauty. Nicholson, blind to anything other than his monument, believes Saito is referring to the bridge, and Saito does not correct his mistake. Nicholson was made heroic by the first hour, while Saito has unquestionably been the villain... but in this moment, it's Saito who seems the more human of the two.

Two stubborn colonels, one from each side: Saito (Sessue Hayakawa) and Nicholson (Alec Guinness).

REMAKES AND RETELLINGS:

There has been no direct remake of The Bridge on the River Kwai, though I think it's fair to say that its influence has been felt in many war-themed movies that followed it. The "Colonel Bogey March" has been repeatedly referenced in popular culture. The film itself was directly spoofed by Spike Milligan and Peter Sellers on an LP record, under the title Bridge on the River Wye.

There was also a not-sequel in 1989, Return from the River Kwai. I have not seen it, but it is based on a nonfiction title by Joan and Clay Blair Jr. and is entirely unrelated to David Lean's movie. It drew mixed reviews, and its reception was not helped by its title. Invoking "River Kwai" ended up creating legal problems when the estate of Sam Spiegel, the 1957 film's producer, threatened to sue. The movie went unreleased in the US, and its UK release included a disclaimer that it was unrelated to the earlier picture. Unsurprisingly, and despite a relatively modest budget, it proved to be a financial failure.

Nicholson celebrates the bridge's completion.

OVERALL:

The Bridge on the River Kwai is a great movie. More importantly from a viewer's standpoint, it's a good movie. This isn't some stolid artwork that viewers must force themselves to endure for The Sake of Technique and/or Message. No, this is a well-paced, thoroughly suspenseful adventure with not a single boring second to its name. Performances are universally excellent, with Alec Guinness and Sessue Haywakawa particularly outstanding, and the movie bristles with energy and life.

I'll close by repeating what I said in my review of Casablanca: If you haven't yet seen this one, watch it; and if you haven't seen it in a while, it might just be worth watching again.


Overall Rating: 10/10.

Related Post: Cracks in the Wall - Marty, The Bridge on the River Kwai, and the Decline of the Hollywood Blacklist

Best Motion Picture - 1956: Around the World in 80 Days
Best Motion Picture - 1958: Gigi

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