A DELICATE BALANCE

Katharine Hepburn and Paul Scofield

A DELICATE BALANCE (1973).  Director: Tony Richardson. Play by Edward Albee. AFT [American Film Theatre] production.

"I can't stand the selfishness. Those who want to die and take their whole lives to do it." 

"I was not and never had been an alcoholic. I had nothing in common with them. They were sick. And I was merely willful."

Agnes (Katharine Hepburn) and Tobias (Paul Scofield of A Man for All Seasons) are a married couple who live in an upscale Connecticut community.  Also living with them is Agnes' sister, Claire (Kate Reid of She Cried Murder). who has a "drinking problem" whether she wants to admit it or not, and is continuously berated by Agnes. The couple's daughter, Julie (Lee Remick of The Omen), is also coming home when it looks as if her fourth marriage is going to wind up on the rocks along with the first three. But the strangest house guests are Agnes and Toby's best friends, Harry (Joseph Cotten) and Edna (Betsy Blair), who come over to stay when they suffer a panic attack (over encroaching age, fear of death, fear of losing one another?) that absolutely terrifies them. They move into Julia's bedroom, but when she returns Julia is horrified to realize that her parents aren't going to ask them to leave. They are friends, yes, but she's their daughter. Yet Harry and Edna seem to think they have more right to the room than she has. This situation brings out all the tensions in the family (albeit most of them were out already) making the atmosphere even more poisonous... 

A Delicate Balance won Edward Albee a Pulitzer Prize --  although it was back in the days when most Pulitzers went to wealthy white guys like Albee. Albee isn't the first person to write about a dysfunctional family and others have done it better (for instance, this in no way compares to O'Neill's brilliant Long Day's Journey into Night). If Delicate Balance  has anything going for it it's some excellent -- if occasionally dated --  dialogue, but the people are perhaps more dreary than interesting. As with Albee's Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolfe the playwright resorts to black comedy -- and much of this is quite funny -- when all else fails. The characters (archetypes that border on stereotypes) are more obscure than well-developed, as if they were all people Albee knew but he isn't able to make them really come alive for anyone who didn't personally experience them. This is left for the actors to do, and they do their best, even if the casting isn't perfect. Hepburn and Scofield are quite good, Remick is fine, Reid quite intense, Cotten actually gives one of the best performances of his career, and Blair, while a cut below the others, has some excellent moments. The acting and situations hold your attention, but ultimately this is unsatisfying, and hardly a really great drama.

Verdict: A lot of talk, some of it interesting, that ultimately goes nowhere. **1/2.

WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO BABY JANE? (1991)

Twisted Sisters: Vanessa and Lynn Redgrave

WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO BABY JANE? (1990 telefilm). Director: David Greene.

"You always were a personality actress. Same performance, different outfit." -- Jane to Blanche.

Former child star Baby Jane Hudson (Lynn Redgrave) lives in a Hollywood mansion where she takes care of her crippled sister, former movie star Blanche Hudson (Vanessa Redgrave). The two sisters -- played by two real-life sisters -- have always had a problematic relationship, but things get worse when Jane discovers that her sister plans to sell the mansion and put her in an institution. Jane begins a campaign of harassment against her sister even as she plans her comeback with video shop owner and part-time drag queen, Billy (John Glover). Meanwhile Blanche does her best to escape her tormentor before the worst can happen. This TV remake of the classic What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? teaming two famous real-life sisters, must have seemed an irresistible notion, but however formidable the talents of Lynn and Vanessa they are "pygmies" compared to the even more formidable Bette Davis and Joan Crawford. That being said, Lynn [Georgy Girl] and Vanessa, with very different acting styles from the two Hollywood movie stars, give good, perhaps more naturalistic, performances. The telefilm has other pleasures, including Bruce A. Young as Blanche's handsome physical therapist (also an aspiring actor) and John Glover's wonderful portrayal of Billy, who tries his damnedest to get Baby Jane back into show business -- which culminates in a "showcase" in a bar which is one of the most memorable scenes in the picture. An in-joke has Blanche/Vanessa watching one of her older movies on television and saying "So many things that Tony could have improved upon" -- Vanessa was married to film director Tony Richardson for five years; she later married her Camelot co-star Franco Nero and they are still married to this day. This version is not as much of a horror film as the original, despite two murder sequences. Peter Manning Robinson's music helps add some pathos to the conclusion, but it still doesn't make sense that Jane would say "you mean all this time we could have been friends" when she finds out Blanche was only crippled trying to kill her sister!

Verdict: Not as good as the original, but not without its peculiar "charms." ***.

SANCTUARY

SANCTUARY (1961). Director: Tony Richardson.

A housekeeper named Nancy (Odetta) is sentenced to hang because she murdered an infant, but strangely the baby's mother, Temple (Lee Remick), wants to save the murderess' life. To that end she tells her father, Governor Drake (Howard St. John) what transpired during some very dark days in her past. In this second film version of William Faulkner's "Sanctuary" after The Story of Temple Drake [with parts of Faulkner's sequel, "Requiem for a Nun" thrown into the mix], Temple again winds up at a bootlegger's hide-out, is raped by "Candy Man" (Yves Montand) and taken to a whorehouse, but eventually winds up married to straight arrow Gowan Stevens (Bradford Dillman), whereupon she hires old associate Nancy to look after her children. Sanctuary idiotically tries to convince the viewer that somehow her infant's murder is all her fault, which is so morally moronic it isn't funny. And that isn't the only problem with the movie. Montand is screamingly miscast as the rapist ["Wanna dwink?" he asks Dillman in one hilarious scene], and although Remick has given some nice performances elsewhere, she is defeated by the sheer stupidity of James Poe's screenplay. Ironically Sanctuary emerges as more dated than The Story of Temple Drake because in this version Temple falls in love with her rapist, an odious notion that even soap operas finally began to reject in recent years. [Yes, one could argue that it's really sexual obsession, and Temple is not normal, but it's still offensive.] Dillman gives one of his "I'm not really sure what I'm doing here" performances; Harry Townes is notable as Nancy's lawyer, Ira; and Reta Shaw is fun as the painted madame of a brothel. Folksinger Odetta isn't a seasoned enough actress to make much of an impression as Nancy, but her part is so unbelievable it would tax the talents of an experienced acting genius. This very stupid movie seems to forget that there is never any justification for taking the life of an innocent child. The phony quasi-religious ending may have you screaming at the TV. In black and white CinemaScope.

Verdict: Looks like "fun," but isn't. *1/2.

THE HOUSE OF REDGRAVE: THE LIVES OF A THEATRICAL DYNASTY

THE HOUSE OF REDGRAVE: The Lives of a Theatrical Dynasty. Tim Adler. London: Aurum Press; 2012.

Despite the title, this book is essentially a biography of the late Tony Richardson, the British film director who was married to Vanessa Redgrave and was the father of the late Natasha Richardson, who died when she was married to actor Liam Neeson (The Other Man). Apparently the book's publisher thought that Richardson's name wouldn't sell a book, so this was re-imagined as a book on all of the Redgraves, which it isn't, even though there are sections on Vanesssa, her brother Colin, and her daughters late in the book; most of the text covers the life and career of Tony Richardson (The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner; Tom Jones), who brought a stark reality to British theater and cinema that had been missing before. Adler looks at the nutty brother and sister duo of Vanessa and Colin (the latter of whom is largely unknown in the U.S.), both of whom devoted more attention to radical politics than to their own children. Lynn Redgrave, despite a highly successful career, gets short shrift except for passages on her discovering that her husband was the actual father of her grandchild and the resulting scandal, and her death from cancer. Richardson is portrayed as a gifted narcissist who could be both generous and loved, nasty and hated, and was decidedly confused and uptight about his sexuality. Adler doesn't seem that comfortable or up-to-date when writing about Redgrave's and Tony Richardson's homosexuality, and some passages might be considered borderline homophobic and decidedly dated. However, the book is a good read and generally well-done if you're looking for a tome on Richardson and his circle. For a book that's actually about Michael Redgrave and his family, see Donald Spoto's The Redgraves: A Family Epic.

Verdict: Quick and entertaining read, albeit flawed. ***.

THE REDGRAVES: A FAMILY EPIC Donald Spoto

THE REDGRAVES: A Family Epic. Donald Spoto. Crown; 2012.

This is a solid and highly interesting -- and rather depressing -- look at a famous theatrical family. The first -- and most compelling -- half of the book looks at patriarch Michael Redgrave, who fathered three children but whose main passion was for men, and had boyfriends all during his marriage, some of whom could be considered long-time partners. The second half of the book looks more closely at the lives and careers of Redgrave's daughters Vanessa and Lynn, and son, Corin, all of whom became actors. Redgrave's wife, actress Rachel Kempson, eventually took a lover of her own, but he was also attracted to men, and Vanessa's husband, director Tony Richardson, was also homosexual [these men were "bisexual" in the sense they also had relationships with women, if for no other reason than appearances, but their main interest was men]. All of this old-fashioned shame and guilt from closet cases gets wearying after awhile, even if the time period was pre-Stonewall [the advent of modern day Gay Liberation]. The Redgraves does not ignore the careers and achievements of these individuals, however, and also looks into the lives of Nastasha Richardson [Tony and Vanesssa's daughter, who died tragically young] and Jemma Redgrave, another very talented actress. Spoto weaves an excellent tapestry of changing attitudes toward both actors and gays, with a theatrical and film world background providing added atmosphere.

Verdict: Well-done and a very good read. ***1/2.

TOM JONES

TOM JONES (1963) Director: Tony Richardson.

Based on the novel by Henry Fielding, this is the story of Tom Jones, an alleged “bastard” who cares little for religious studies and a great deal for romps with the opposite sex. He has a series of amusing and even harrowing adventures which nearly lead him to the gallows. At times this comes across like a mere sex farce, and some of the “techniques” Richardson employs – such as fast-motion and dialogue cards for silent sequences – don't really work that well. Albert Finney is really too old for the part but rises above this and turns in an excellent performance as Tom. The picture is bolstered by a host of fine British character actors including Joan Greenwood and Hugh Griffith. Look for Jack MacGowran from The Giant Behemoth (he was the nervous museum director) and The Exorcist (he played the director who dies) in a nice bit as Partridge, the man assumed to be Jones' father. [Thinking he's his long-lost father, Jones, sitting on a horse, lifts him up and off his feet and gives him a big kiss on the mouth!] Some of the “big” sequences – a massive "cat fight" between pious ladies and the town trollops; Jones and company riding the hounds – are a bit disappointing, but the famous eating scene is still highly entertaining. In this Finney and one of his conquests sit at a table and eat a huge, lip-smacking feast in what can only be described as an extremely lascivious manner. Very popular in its day – it also won an Oscar for best Picture -- this remains a good, entertaining movie if not a truly great one.

Verdict: Very good comedy. ***.