How Marlon Brando Changed Acting: Inside a Scene from On the Waterfront

Mar­lon Bran­do has now been gone for more than two decades, and so thor­ough­go­ing was his impact on the art of film act­ing that younger gen­er­a­tions of movie-lovers may have trou­ble pin­ning down what, exact­ly, he did so dif­fer­ent­ly on screen. In the new video above, Evan “Nerd­writer” Puschak shows them — and reminds us — using a sin­gle scene from Elia Kazan’s On the Water­front. No, it’s not the scene you’re think­ing of even if you’ve nev­er seen the movie: Puschak selects an ear­li­er one, a con­ver­sa­tion between Bran­do’s prize­fight­er-turned-long­shore­man Ter­ry Mal­loy and Eva Marie Sain­t’s young Edie Doyle, the sis­ter of the col­league Ter­ry unknow­ing­ly lured to his death.

When Edie asks Ter­ry how he got into box­ing, Ter­ry glances at the floor while launch­ing into his answer. “It’s hard to over­state how rev­o­lu­tion­ary a choice like this was in 1954,” says Puschak. “Actors just did­n’t get dis­tract­ed in this way. Trained in the­atri­cal tech­niques, they hit their spots, artic­u­lat­ed their lines, and per­formed instant­ly leg­i­ble emo­tions for the audi­ence. They did­n’t pause a con­ver­sa­tion to look under the table, turn­ing their head away from the micro­phone in the process, and they cer­tain­ly did­n’t speak while chew­ing food.” Just a few years ear­li­er, “the famous Bran­do mum­ble” would have been unthink­able in a fea­ture film; after On the Water­front, it became an endur­ing part of pop­u­lar cul­ture.

Much of the evo­lu­tion of the motion pic­ture is the sto­ry of its lib­er­a­tion from the tropes of the­ater. The ear­li­est nar­ra­tive films amount­ed to lit­tle more than doc­u­men­ta­tions of stage per­for­mances, sta­t­i­cal­ly framed from the famil­iar per­spec­tive of a spec­ta­tor’s seat. Just as the devel­op­ment of the tech­nol­o­gy and tech­niques for cam­era move­ment and edit­ing allowed cin­e­ma to come into its own on the visu­al lev­el, the nature of the actors’ per­for­mances also had to change. In the mid-nine­teen-for­ties, the elec­tri­fied micro­phone allowed Frank Sina­tra to sing with the cadence and sub­tle­ty of speech; not long there­after, Bran­do took sim­i­lar advan­tage of the tech­no­log­i­cal capa­bil­i­ty of film to cap­ture a range of what would come to be known as his own sig­na­ture idio­syn­crasies.

On the Water­front opened fair­ly close on the heels of the Bran­do-star­ring A Street­car Named Desire and The Wild One; still to come were the likes of One-Eyed Jacks, The God­fa­ther, Last Tan­go in Paris, and Apoc­a­lypse Now. While Bran­do did­n’t appear exclu­sive­ly in acclaimed pic­tures — espe­cial­ly in the lat­er decades of his career — nev­er did he give a whol­ly unin­ter­est­ing per­for­mance. Incor­po­rat­ing the tics, hitch­es, and self-sti­fling impuls­es that afflict all our real-life com­mu­ni­ca­tion, he under­stood the poten­tial of both real­ism and odd­i­ty to bring a char­ac­ter’s inte­ri­or­i­ty out into the open, usu­al­ly against that char­ac­ter’s will. But he nev­er could’ve done it with­out his fel­low per­form­ers to act and react against, not least the for­mi­da­ble Eva Marie Saint: at 101 years old, one of our few liv­ing con­nec­tions to the vital, decep­tive­ly har­row­ing realm of post­war Hol­ly­wood cin­e­ma.

Relat­ed con­tent:

Mar­lon Bran­do Screen Tests for Rebel With­out A Cause (1947)

When Mar­lon Bran­do Refused the Oscar for His Role in The God­fa­ther to Sup­port the Rights of Native Amer­i­cans (1973)

The God­fa­ther With­out Bran­do?: Cop­po­la Explains How It Almost Hap­pened

How Humphrey Bog­a­rt Became an Icon: A Video Essay

Why James Gandolfini’s Tony Sopra­no Is “the Great­est Act­ing Achieve­ment Ever Com­mit­ted to the Screen”: A Video Essay

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities and the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Explore Frank Lloyd Wright’s Iconic Houses Through Eight Short Documentaries

Look up the word archi­tec­ture in the dic­tio­nary, and though you won’t actu­al­ly find a pic­ture of Frank Lloyd Wright, it may feel as if you should. Or at least it will feel that way if you’re look­ing in an Amer­i­can dic­tio­nary, giv­en that Wright has been regard­ed as the per­son­i­fi­ca­tion of Amer­i­can archi­tec­ture longer than any of us have been alive. Exact­ly when he gained that sta­tus isn’t easy to pin down. Like all archi­tects, he began his career unknown; only lat­er did even his ear­ly solo works from around the turn of the twen­ti­eth cen­tu­ry, like his pri­vate home and stu­dio and the Uni­ty Tem­ple, both in Oak Park, Illi­nois, become sites of pil­grim­age. By 1935, how­ev­er, Wright’s name had long since been inter­na­tion­al­ly made — and unmade.

For­tu­nate­ly for him, that was the year he designed the Edgar J. Kauf­mann Sr. House, bet­ter known as Falling­wa­ter, which is now wide­ly con­sid­ered his mas­ter­piece. Nat­u­ral­ly, Falling­wa­ter appears in one of the videos includ­ed in the playlist of short doc­u­men­taries on Wright’s hous­es from Archi­tec­tur­al Digest at the top of the post.

It could hard­ly have been oth­er­wise; near­ly as unig­nor­able are his Ari­zona home and stu­dio Tal­iesin West and his much-filmed Maya revival Ennis House in Los Ange­les. Through these videos, you can also get tours of his less­er-known works like Toy Hill House in Pleas­antville, New York; Tir­ran­na in New Canaan, Con­necti­cut; and the Cir­cu­lar Sun House in Phoenix, Ari­zona, his final real­ized home design.

For all the var­ied inter­ests he pur­sued and influ­ences he absorbed, Wright did stick to cer­tain philo­soph­i­cal prin­ci­ples, some of which Archi­tec­tur­al Digest has traced in its videos. Using three dif­fer­ent hous­es, the one just above illu­mi­nates per­haps Wright’s sin­gle most impor­tant guid­ing idea: “A home, he believed, should not be placed upon the land, but grow from it, nat­ur­al, inten­tion­al, and insep­a­ra­ble from the envi­ron­ment around it.” As his archi­tec­ture evolved, he increas­ing­ly “treat­ed the land­scape not as a back­drop, but as a col­lab­o­ra­tor,” cre­at­ing “spaces that invite the out­side in and express the essen­tial prin­ci­ples of organ­ic archi­tec­ture.” Wright’s hous­es can thus be stun­ning in a way we might’ve only thought pos­si­ble in a nat­ur­al land­scape — and, as gen­er­a­tions of buy­ers have found out by now, just as unruly and demand­ing as any pure­ly organ­ic cul­ti­va­tion.


Relat­ed con­tent:

Frank Lloyd Wright: America’s Great­est Archi­tect? — A Free Stream­ing Doc­u­men­tary

A Med­i­ta­tive Tour of Falling­wa­ter, Frank Lloyd Wright’s Archi­tec­tur­al Mas­ter­piece

What Frank Lloyd Wright’s Unusu­al Win­dows Tell Us About His Archi­tec­tur­al Genius

That Far Cor­ner: Frank Lloyd Wright in Los Ange­les — A Free Online Doc­u­men­tary

A Vir­tu­al Tour of Frank Lloyd Wright’s Lost Japan­ese Mas­ter­piece, the Impe­r­i­al Hotel in Tokyo

Frank Lloyd Wright Designs an Urban Utopia: See His Hand-Drawn Sketch­es of Broad­acre City (1932)

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities and the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

The 1957 “Spaghetti-Grows-on-Trees” Hoax: One of TV’s First April Fools’ Day Pranks

In 1957, the BBC pro­gram Panora­ma aired one of the first tele­vised April Fools’ Day hoax­es. Above, you can watch a faux news report from Switzer­land nar­rat­ed by respect­ed BBC jour­nal­ist Richard Dim­ble­by. Here’s the basic premise: After a mild win­ter and the “vir­tu­al dis­ap­pear­ance of the spaghet­ti wee­vil,” the res­i­dents of Ticoni (a Swiss can­ton on the Ital­ian bor­der) reap a record-break­ing spaghet­ti har­vest. Swiss farm­ers pluck strands of spaghet­ti from trees and lay them out to dry in the sun. Then we cut to Swiss res­i­dents enjoy­ing a fresh pas­ta meal for dinner—going from farm to table, as it were.

The spoof doc­u­men­tary orig­i­nat­ed with the BBC cam­era­man Charles de Jaeger. He remem­bered one of his child­hood school­teach­ers in Aus­tria jok­ing, “Boys, you are so stu­pid, you’d believe me if I told you that spaghet­ti grew on trees.” Appar­ent­ly he was right. Years lat­er, David Wheel­er, the pro­duc­er of the BBC seg­ment, recalled: “The fol­low­ing day [the broad­cast] there was quite a to-do because there were lots of peo­ple who went to work and said to their col­leagues ‘did you see that extra­or­di­nary thing on Panora­ma? I nev­er knew that about spaghet­ti.’ ” An esti­mat­ed eight mil­lion peo­ple watched the orig­i­nal pro­gram, and, decades lat­er, CNN called the broad­cast “the biggest hoax that any rep­utable news estab­lish­ment ever pulled.”

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent

When Neapoli­tans Used to Eat Pas­ta with Their Bare Hands: Watch Footage from 1903

“Moon Hoax Not”: Short Film Explains Why It Was Impos­si­ble to Fake the Moon Land­ing

Neil Arm­strong Sets Straight an Inter­net Truther Who Accused Him of Fak­ing the Moon Land­ing (2000)

When Ital­ian Futur­ists Declared War on Pas­ta (1930)

 

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Nikola Tesla Accurately Predicted the Rise of Wireless Technology & the Smartphone in 1926

Cer­tain cult his­tor­i­cal fig­ures have served as pre­scient avatars for the tech­no-vision­ar­ies of the dig­i­tal age. Where the altru­is­tic utopi­an designs of Buck­min­ster Fuller pro­vid­ed an ide­al for the first wave of Sil­i­con Val­ley pio­neers (a group includ­ing com­put­er sci­en­tist and philoso­pher Jaron Lanier and Wired edi­tor Kevin Kel­ly), lat­er entre­pre­neurs have hewn clos­er to the prin­ci­ples of bril­liant sci­en­tist and inven­tor Niko­la Tes­la, who believed, as he told Lib­er­ty mag­a­zine in 1935, that “we suf­fer the derange­ment of our civ­i­liza­tion because we have not yet com­plete­ly adjust­ed our­selves to the machine age.”

Such an adjust­ment would come, Tes­la believed, only in “mas­ter­ing the machine”—and he seemed to have supreme con­fi­dence in human mastery—over food pro­duc­tion, cli­mate, and genet­ics. We would be freed from oner­ous labor by automa­tion and the cre­ation of “a think­ing machine,” he said, over a decade before the inven­tion of the com­put­er. Tes­la did not antic­i­pate the ways such machines would come to mas­ter us, even though he can­ni­ly fore­saw the future of wire­less tech­nol­o­gy, com­put­ing, and tele­pho­ny, tech­nolo­gies that would rad­i­cal­ly reshape every aspect of human life.

In an ear­li­er, 1926, inter­view in Col­lier’s mag­a­zine, Tes­la pre­dict­ed, as the edi­tors wrote, com­mu­ni­cat­ing “instant­ly by sim­ple vest-pock­et equip­ment.” His actu­al words con­veyed a much grander, and more accu­rate, pic­ture of the future.

When wire­less is per­fect­ly applied the whole earth will be con­vert­ed into a huge brain, which in fact it is…. We shall be able to com­mu­ni­cate with one anoth­er instant­ly, irre­spec­tive of dis­tance. Not only this, but through tele­vi­sion and tele­pho­ny we shall see and hear one anoth­er as per­fect­ly as though we were face to face, despite inter­ven­ing dis­tances of thou­sands of miles; and the instru­ments through which we shall be able to do this will be amaz­ing­ly sim­ple com­pared with our present tele­phone. A man will be able to car­ry one in his vest pock­et. 

The com­plex­i­ty of smart­phones far out­strips that of the tele­phone, but in every oth­er respect, Tesla’s pic­ture maps onto the real­i­ty of almost 100 years lat­er. Oth­er aspects of Tesla’s future sce­nario for wire­less also seem to antic­i­pate cur­rent tech­nolo­gies, like 3D print­ing, though the kind he describes still remains in the realm of sci­ence fic­tion: “Wire­less will achieve the clos­er con­tact through trans­mis­sion of intel­li­gence, trans­port of our bod­ies and mate­ri­als and con­veyance of ener­gy.”

But Tesla’s vision had its lim­i­ta­tions, and they lay pre­cise­ly in his tech­no-opti­mism. He nev­er met a prob­lem that wouldn’t even­tu­al­ly have a tech­no­log­i­cal solu­tion (and like many oth­er tech­no-vision­ar­ies of the time, he hearti­ly endorsed state-spon­sored eugen­ics). “The major­i­ty of the ills from which human­i­ty suf­fers,” he said, “are due to the immense extent of the ter­res­tri­al globe and the inabil­i­ty of indi­vid­u­als and nations to come into close con­tact.”

Wire­less tech­nol­o­gy, thought Tes­la, would help erad­i­cate war, pover­ty, dis­ease, pol­lu­tion, and gen­er­al dis­con­tent, when we are “able to wit­ness and hear events—the inau­gu­ra­tion of a Pres­i­dent, the play­ing of a world series game, the hav­oc of an earth­quake or the ter­ror of a battle—just as though we were present.” When inter­na­tion­al bound­aries are “large­ly oblit­er­at­ed” by instant com­mu­ni­ca­tion, he believed, “a great step will be made toward the uni­fi­ca­tion and har­mo­nious exis­tence of the var­i­ous races inhab­it­ing the globe.”

Tes­la did not, and per­haps could not, fore­see the ways in which tech­nolo­gies that bring us clos­er togeth­er than ever also, and at the same time, pull us ever fur­ther apart. Read Tes­la’s full inter­view here, in which he also pre­dicts that women will become the “supe­ri­or sex,” not by virtue of “the shal­low phys­i­cal imi­ta­tion of men” but through “the awak­en­ing of the intel­lect.”

Note: An ear­li­er ver­sion of this post appeared on our site in 2019.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Sci-Fi Author J.G. Bal­lard Pre­dicts the Rise of Social Media (1977)

Isaac Asi­mov Pre­dicts in 1964 What the World Will Look Like in 2014

In 1922, a Nov­el­ist Pre­dicts What the World Will Look Like in 2022: Wire­less Tele­phones, 8‑Hour Flights to Europe & More

A 1947 French Film Accu­rate­ly Pre­dict­ed Our 21st-Cen­tu­ry Addic­tion to Smart­phones

Jules Verne Accu­rate­ly Pre­dicts What the 20th Cen­tu­ry Will Look Like in His Lost Nov­el, Paris in the Twen­ti­eth Cen­tu­ry (1863)

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. 

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