•
Rating: Talking about a film like "On the Waterfront" means talking about history.
Even though the tenth feature film by Elia Kazan may still be very relevant, to the point where it hasn't faded into oblivion or been worn out by the years, we are still discussing a film that, since 1998, has been placed by the American Film Institute at eighth place among the hundred greatest American films of all time (now at nineteenth), alongside older films like "The Birth of a Nation," to name one. On the other hand, discussing it in an essay-like manner could prove counterproductive and, let's be honest, boring. There's nothing to do but try to avoid these "dangerous" inclinations and dive straight into the discussion.
In a degraded mid-'50s New York, the longshoremen's union has fallen into the hands of a mobster group led by Johnny Friendly (L.J. Cobb). Among them are Terry Malloy (M. Brando), a former boxer, and his brother Charlie. Friendly acts with repressive means against the longshoremen, including murder if they show any intention to report their treatment to the police. Among Friendly's suspected group is Joey Doyle, an old childhood friend of Terry, who is indeed murdered. Terry is overwhelmed with remorse, which gradually intensifies when he meets the sister of his deceased friend, Edie (E.M. Saint), whom he falls in love with. By this point, Friendly also doubts Terry's honesty toward the group and decides to have him murdered. After numerous adventures where Terry admits to having thrown his last boxing match to favor a bet by Friendly, giving up becoming a champion, Charlie's death, and the protagonist's testimony in the trial against the gangsters, the film ends with the longshoremen's revolt led by Terry, who is supported by the local priest, Father Barry, (K. Malden) against the oppressors.
The work is based on a series of articles written by Pulitzer Prize winner Malcolm Johnson that appeared in the "New York Sun" under the name "Crime on the Waterfront". Indeed, there's a lot of politics behind this work. For some enthusiasts, but also for casual viewers, knowing that Kazan was an active part of the McCarthy government and sympathized with the House Committee on Un-American Activities (a U.S. anti-communist oversight committee) is nothing new. With this film, many critics have expressed great perplexity: what is a director like Kazan doing directing the tale of the proletariat, the revolt from below to above, also portraying the main character with strokes of grandiose titanism? The answer is simple: Kazan does not.
And yes, because if we read between the lines, we can learn a completely different lesson. The lower classes are depicted in all their indifference, laziness. When the news of Joey's death spreads, everyone knows what happened, who did it, but no one talks. In conclusion, the evil, represented by the gangsters, can only be eradicated if one goes to the police (as Father Barry suggests multiple times) and, metaphorically, places themselves under the protection of the State. The extraordinary political significance of "On the Waterfront" is characterized from the beginning by a limiting view not only of the "working-class hero" but of mankind in general, reducing their capacity to act and redefining them in the perspective of a mere state cell. In the final sequences of the film, Malloy approaches the boss with great courage to reclaim his job, a scene of great visual power and suspense: Brando's face is smashed, pouring with blood, his legs fail him, but he reaches his goal. The heroism of the poor? Not at all, considering the destination: the boss himself, the master. After the social revolt, capitalist balances are restored, considered the only means to ensure stability. A concept certainly not widely shared, even though at times sadly true, is what emerges from "On the Waterfront." As mentioned at the beginning, it's not possible to discuss the film without including rather uncomfortable political contingencies. But one mustn't stop at the surface. Because Kazan's political ideas might not be agreeable, but one cannot help but admire the subtle, sharp criteria with which the director manages to handle such a delicate issue, achieving excellent results.
The noteworthy technical aspects are not a negligible element, quite the opposite. Marlon Brando delivers his best performance ever, making him stand out from the rest of the cast, with only the evil charm of Lee J. Cobb standing up to him. The most impactful moments, indeed, will remain Terry's argument with the priest and the scene where Malloy spots his brother's corpse hanging with a hook on a wall, like a piece of butchered meat, and with care and fraternal affection, gently lays him down on the ground, asking Edie to watch over him, as if he were just asleep. Eva Mary Saint remains average without shining, a similar comment can be made for Karl Malden, at times unnecessarily emphatic, as in the scene where he stirs up the longshoremen against their executioners in front of the corpse of a worker killed by gangsters. To enhance the enjoyment of the film, there is certainly the elegance of a well-used black and white, with effective light contrasts that avoid baroque excesses. Finally, it would be unfair to forget the scenery: the film is mostly shot outdoors, and the director spares the audience standard gangster film settings, all fog and whiskey, opting for a more realistic and truthful depiction.
For the record: seven Academy Awards, including Best Actor and Best Director, and a Silver Lion in Venice. A must-see, regardless of this last aspect.
Loading comments slowly
