A reader, a little while ago, suggested we write about Marlon Brando. They didn’t say what, specifically, we should address in regards to Brando. In fact, they didn’t say anything other than “Marlon Brando?” - so, in the weeks since they sent this recommendation by email, we’ve spent an odd amount of time considering this actor or, rather, our relationship to him.
We have absolutely no idea how we first heard about the existence of a man named Marlon Brando. Can’t even, really, imagine a situation or context in which he was first mentioned. Can’t recall the first Brando film we ever saw or, for that matter, when or why we would have seen it.
We can usually trace our knowledge of culturally important figures from the past, for the most part, to one of two sources. We learn by report or by accident. Reports foreground the reputation and cultural cache of some figure from the past whereas accidents foreground the figure’s particular talents themselves. For example, we learned about Orson Welles because a teacher in high school mentioned the radio broadcast of The War of the Worlds. We remember this vividly. This, we imagine, then lead us to learn about Citizen Kane and F is for Fake. Reports are, by far, the most common way we learned (and still learn) about things that mattered before we were alive - but sometimes we also accidentally happen across something directly while being entirely ignorant of what, exactly, it is. For instance, we happened to hear a Replacements song (which we didn’t know was a Replacements song) on a TV show when we were younger which, then, lead to what can only be called an obsession that inspired us to learn everything we could about this band and only found out eventually that they were, sort of, famous and acclaimed and all the rest.
Reports and accidents, when they lead to stuff we like, tend to leave an impression. These aren’t all formative or revelatory memories, but they’re solid and meaningful instances by which we can source our knowledge. Lasting memories or impressions, though, are few and far between. For the most part, our knowledge of cultural history is seemingly without any identifiable origin. We don’t, for instance, have any idea how The Beatles entered our ken. Couldn’t tell you whether we heard someone talk about them or heard them directly first. There’s a whole bunch of stuff like The Beatles. It’s something like cultural flotsam and jetsam. Rather than sinking to the bottom of the ocean, some past cultural stuff seems to stay buoyant or relevant such that it gets discovered or rediscovered or at least noticed long after its functional moment is gone. Some of this detritus, these remnants of a past common culture, is stuff we pick up and inspect and learn more about and come to like for ourselves - like, say, The Marx Brothers - while other stuff we just sort of observe and acknowledge as existing without ever knowing why it existed or where it came from or why it mattered at all - like, say, The Three Stooges.
Marlon Brando is, for us, part of this odd assortment of half-known things from the past. We don’t know how we came to know of him nor do we know much at all about him. It seems he has always somehow existed in our head, but little about him or the idea of him has ever inspired us to learn or watch much of anything.
We’ve seen remarkably few Marlon Brando movies and, of those we’ve seen, we don’t really remember his presence leaving much of an impression. This seems wrong, but it genuinely feels like parodies of or references to Brando’s most famous performances (e.g. yelling “Stella!” in Streetcar) have left a more vivid and lasting impression than the original performances themselves. The first true and strong memory we have of Brando on film is in The Island of Dr. Moreau and that’s only because that movie freaked us the fuck out when we saw it. He had, like, a monkey on his shoulder? For no reason? Horrible.
Being, then, a Brando idiot meant that fulfilling our reader’s request wasn’t going to be simple or straightforward. We couldn’t just wax poetic about Marlon as an actor or cobble together some cultural critique of Brando as icon. We didn’t have enough to go on. We barely had anything at all. So, then what? How to write about Brando sans much experience or knowledge of Brando?
We’re going to get some experience and knowledge. And you’re going to witness it.
We’ve decided (foolishly) to watch every Marlon Brando movie we haven’t seen (which is nearly all of them) and write a sentence or two about each. [We wrote this before we actually watched any of the films or wrote anything about them. We’re editing this later and, as you may have expected, our write-ups are definitely not one or two sentences. Would that they were. Anyways… ] Becoming a person who has seen every Marlon Brando movie seems like the only proper way to respond to our dear reader’s prompt of “Marlon Brando?,” so this is exactly what we’re going to do.
We mentioned this to someone the other day and they [very rightly as it turns out] said “that’s way too fucking much.” We hadn’t, at that point, actually checked out how many films he’d made. It’s, urm, a lot. Like, a lot of a lot. We’ve got time on our hands, but spending over 100 hours on Marlon Brando movies for a single post seems a little deranged. That said, we’re way too smitten with this idea to let it go entirely.
So, instead of watching the totality of Brando films we haven’t seen, we are going to watch as much of each one as we like. That is, we will start each movie and then stop when we feel like stopping. We’ll note, at the end of our commentary, how many minutes of the film we’ve watched. We aren’t going to read Wikipedia entries or do any other kind of research, so our experience of these films is going to come entirely from the films themselves (and, we suppose, the posters of the films displayed on the streaming sites we use). OK. Given that we’ve got an almost unfathomable amount of movies to watch, we should stop wasting time and energy with all these non-Brando-centric words. Ready?
The Men (1950)
Holy shit. Nobody wears a helmet like this.
Interesting that we’re meant to understand that he’s “cool guy” and “tough as nails,” but instead it just looks like he’s destined to yell at waffle house waitstaff. The helmet turns out to be irrelevant because Brando gets shot (in the spine?) and paralyzed immediately. Seems like this movie is going to be set in a veteran’s hospital? We spend fifteen minutes with a sardonic doctor, worried wives, and injured soldiers before we get, finally, to Marlon. He’s very angry that he’s going to need a wheelchair. We’re guessing Marlon gets less angry over time and learns something about himself and comes to appreciate that he can live a whole life while relying on a wheelchair to move around, but we’ve got limited patience for cranky alpha males. We’re out. Watched 26 out of 87 minutes.
Viva Zapata! (1952)
Nothing but respect for a film with an exclamation point in the title. This seems like it’s going to be an interesting thing about the Mexican Revolution. Lots of class/colonialist business being foregrounded in the opening minutes. Oh no, Brando is in brownface.
He’s playing Zapata!? The president tells him and the other folks he’s with that they should be patient (with the settlers unjustly occupying their land) and Brando says - this is a real line of dialogue - “We make our tortillas out of corn, not patience.” No idea what to do with this thing now. Elia Kazan makes a hell of a movie, but legit a little worried about what kind of questionable shit is going to arise in the next two hours. Seems like it might be a good movie, but not loving Brando’s raspy attempt at an accent. Watched 14 out of 113 minutes.
On the Waterfront (1954)
This is stupidly good and it’s upsetting that we hadn’t seen it until now. Organized crime, nascent labor movements, fraught romance, a Catholic priest with a social conscience, and Brando as a simple ex-boxer longshoreman wrestling with moral conflict. Brando’s performance is filled with weird little moments that make his character more sympathetic and round than it should be. Like, for example, in his first real conversation with Edie, the sister of a man whose death is (partially) his fault, he tries on her glove. She dropped it, he picks it up, then fusses with it a little and wears it. There’s no dialogue about the glove. There are a couple subtle gestures where Edie sort of reaches towards her glove, but he doesn’t notice. It’s a quiet moment that reveals something about both characters. It’s evocative of the peculiarity of people, the little unusual things people absentmindedly do. It’s kind of lovely.
We can chalk it up to Kazan’s direction, but this is a post about Brando and Brando does this small, odd stuff continually and it’s low-key incredible to watch. It helps that everything in this movie is great, but Brando is really great. This post might turn into a nightmare if the movies going forward are half as good as this. Watched 108 of 108 minutes.
Désirée (1955)
Gotta say that opening a movie with an orchestral overture and credits is really nice. It sets the mood. And this mood? Late 18th century France! Wonder what Marlon’s going to get up to!
Oh fuck, he’s Napoleon.
He’s doing the same kind of thing with his voice that he did with Zapata. He’s not putting on an accent exactly, but just kind of creep whispering everything instead. Marlon’s Napoleon is giving Hannibal Lector. He’s courting Désirée, has martial ambition, and is very serious all the time (e.g. refers to himself as one of the men that makes history). The vibes are off in this thing. Marpoleon as a doting (and inevitably conflicted?) lover isn’t something we can take seriously. The cinematographer is, maybe, in on the joke?
Would watch for giggles, but there are too many movies left to linger here. Watched 12 out of 110 minutes.
The Teahouse of the August Moon (1956)
God help us, we’re in 1940s Japan. How is Brando going to fit in here? He’s doing full yellowface. He has “an accent” and is reading lines that could only be described as “aggressively racist.” Of all the roles and stories, this is what they chose? Not even going to screenshot this. Maybe there’s something redemptive about the story, but given how hard it was to find a stream of this film we’re guessing not. Watched 3 out of 123 minutes.
Sayonara (1957)
The title of this one doesn’t bode well, but there’s no way Marlon does fucked up Japanese cosplay in two back-to-back films, right? The film opens in Korea and Marlon is (thank fucking god) playing a white guy pilot. He’s doing his iconic moody thing right from the get-go. Seems he’s not thrilled about shooting people. What is this accent, though? Is he Cajun??? This is impossible. Why is this happening?
We’re talking about marriage between American servicemen and Japanese women right from the start, so it seems like we’re all going to learn a lesson about love and racism over the next little while. The script is really terrible. It’s all exposition, didacticism, and misogyny. Marlon, though, is still compelling to watch in all his weirdness. He really can’t do nothing. He has to be using his body and/or face at all times in the most unusual ways. Like this pose during a very regular conversation:
As curious as we are about Marlon’s inevitable love affair with a Japanese woman, we’re going to dip. Watched 12 out of 147 minutes.
The Young Lions (1958)
Hollywood sure was committed to war movies in the ‘50s. We’re not into psychoanalysis, but this kind of cultural processing of recent historical trauma does seem to invite that kind of critical lens. The movie starts in ‘30s Germany, so we’re in for ride. Marlon Brando is bleach blonde and skiing with an American lady friend in the opening scene. He, for real, makes and eats a snowball within the first 30 seconds he’s onscreen.
He’s also doing a bad, but not terrible, German accent. Hopefully he got a dialogue coach or something. There’s a New Year’s Eve party and there’s a child dressed in Nazi shit.
Everyone heils Hitler except for Brando and his American companion (did not catch her name sorry), so maybe that’s a good sign? Oh wait, Brando just asked his (upset) date if she really thinks “being a Nazi is such a terrible thing.” Brando’s apparently not a Nazi, he’s “not political at all,” but thinks the Nazis stand for something hopeful in Germany. Brando is, for real, playing an uncannily accurate secretly alt-right bro. He’s all soft argument and gentle appeasement. Harrowing that this picture of masc fascist apologism feels very current.
We cut from the pre-war party to the midst of the war and, obviously, Brando’s a Nazi now. He’s shooting at members of the French resistance. Not sure how long we can stand ‘50s era war scenes - they’re the opposite of tense or interesting. It’s just boys hiding in bushes going pew-pew. Very theatrical.
Wait - now we cut to NYC? And Dean Martin is topless??
No amount of black-and-white can make this seem serious.
Seems like we’re going to be getting a view of WWII from (at least?) two sides. Dean Martin plays more or less Dean Martin (an entertainer of some sort who jokes about drinking immediately). There’s also like a nebbish American guy that we’ve definitely seen in other things, but can’t place right now. He has a bowtie.
We’re spending a lot of time with people who aren’t Marlon Brando, so - while this seems like it might be passably good - we’re going to need to move on. We’re betting Marlon turns his back on the Nazis in the end and sacrifices himself to save, let’s say, nebbish guy? Or maybe nebbish guy saves Brando? There’s definitely some saving going on, but not Dean Martin. Martin prob dies and makes a joke about martinis in Heaven right before letting out his last breath. This feels like the kind of movie you’d watch if it happened to be on TV at someone else’s house, but then stop watching before the end because food is ready and it’s almost three hours long. Watched 27 out of 167 minutes.
Bedtime Story (1964)
Brando in a romantic comedy? Seems like this could be the best or worst thing yet.
Fucking worst. The voice-over narration, framing the film as a sort of fairy tale (or “bedtime story” if you will) tells us that Marlon here is like the big bad wolf that preys only on women. He sees a little-red-riding-hood-esque lady immediately and insinuates himself into her house. For real, why does old time hetero flirtation and desire always end up identical to manipulation and outright predation? It’s not cute. Watched 7 out of 99 minutes.
Morituri (1965)
Oh no we’re in 1940s Japan again!!! Marlon, though, isn’t here. He’s in India. He’s a Nazi deserter pretending to be Swiss. He’s very cultured. Classical music plays and he has lots of modern art on the walls. He’s like a business person (?), but - for unknown reasons - he’s being enlisted by the allies to save a ship full of rubber destined for Germany by going undercover as a member of the SS. Apparently there’s a bomb on the ship? And the allies don’t want the bomb to go off? Because they want the rubber? We weren’t paying close enough attention to this convoluted set-up tbh, but it’s clear enough that if he doesn’t go a-spying on a boat they’ll turn him back over to the Nazis. He’s a pacificist, apparently, but no one cares. It’s maybe the flimsiest pretext for a wartime boat thriller we’ve ever heard, but no matter. The movie gets good as soon as Brando gets on the boat and starts doing sneaky spy shit.
He would’ve made a great James-Bond-but-from-Pittsburgh. As much fun as it is to see Brando appear morally vexed and emotionally tortured, he’s really got a good face for “Don’t look, I’m doing a risky espionage!” Tom Cruise has this quality, too. Good to watch these men doing whatever, but great to watch them hiding near pipes among shadows.
There’s an air of paranoia, political ambivalence, and even kind of expressionist vibes throughout Morituri that makes it way more engaging that it should be. There are some great setpieces and performances, too. Despite ourselves, we ended up watching all 123 of 123 minutes.
This post, we’re realizing now, was a mistake. We expected to nope out of almost every film within five minutes, but that’s not what’s happening. We’re watching whole movies mostly because of Brando’s performance. Morituri especially was only watchable because of Marlon’s inscrutability. After nine movies, this inscrutability seems like it’s at the core of his work as an actor.
It isn’t that he - like other great actors - disappears into a role such that you forget you’re watching a performance, but rather the opposite. You’re always very much watching Brando perform, but who or what Brando is up to is hard to pin down. His motivations and even emotions are always partially hidden, hard to glean, which feels very real. You can’t, on sight, discern what exactly he’s thinking or feeling or going to do. It makes each moment seem filled with possibility rather than inevitability. It’s easy (for us) to forget how far good acting can take bad or questionable everything else. The inverse, though, is also true.
A bad performance - or, worse, an outrageously offensive one - can render a film unwatchable. It’s a shame that, we feel safe saying, actors probably took these roles as “a challenge” to their abilities (not unlike in the ‘90s when actors took up portrayals of cognitive or mental trouble as same). They fail every time and, moreover, show themselves to be callous and unthinking in the process (regardless of whatever “good intentions” lurk behind the films themselves).
We’re both disappointed and relieved that Brando’s filmography is so mixed. While it’d be fun to just do the iconoclastic thing and have done with this, it’s far more interesting to see this far too familiar face doing entirely unfamiliar things. That said, we’re only halfway through his filmography at this point, so we’ll see how long the novelty of seeing an unforgettable actor do stuff in forgettable films lasts.
We’ve hit the limit of what a single post can bear, but we’re committed to this bit. We recognize almost none of the names of the thirteen or so films we have left to watch, but there are some interesting character names coming up. Marlin is going to play dudes named Ogden and Grindl. Grindl! We’ve never, to our knowledge, watched a film with an Ogden or Grindl in it before - so these are exciting times.
Thanks, dear reader, for recommending “Marlon Brando?” and also sorry, dear readers, that we couldn’t just be normal and write a thousand words about how The Godfather shows the underlying criminality of American post-war capitalism or how the aestheticization of crime can be a revolutionary act or something.
Great post, not sure if you should be a movie critic or a comedian. Very funny. Thanks
I, like someone else you mentioned, thought to myself: "This is an impossible endeavor but wish you good luck." We are about the same age so I figured our introduction to Brando was quite similar and I was right.
This project (for lack of a better word) sounds like a really fun exercise that I would certainly enjoy if I had the time to commit to it. I have done full filmographies on actors I already knew I liked but never ones I wasn't overly familiar with.
The opening line of "The Men" is an excellent way to kick off the post. I do think you're giving up on some good films a little early but understand why you've chosen to do so. You had me laughing out loud several times. Really well done. Look forward to pt 2.