
1958’s Cat on a Hot Tin Roof is a scorching drama of family strife, sexuality, and internal conflict. Based on the Tennessee Williams play of the same name, the film is a masterful assessment of what occurs when a family goes through tragic and frustrating circumstances. Richard Brooks directed the motion picture and also helped adapt the Williams play for the screen, earning Best Writing and Best Director Oscar nominations. The movie was also nominated for Best Picture, Best Actor (Paul Newman), Best Actress (Elizabeth Taylor), and Best Cinematography. Somehow it didn’t win a single Oscar.
Newman stars as Brick, a former high school football star. He has degenerated into an alcoholic and a loser, spending most of his time looking back instead of looking ahead. Brick is in Mississippi with his wife, Maggie (Taylor), visiting his family to celebrate Big Daddy’s (Burl Ives) 65th birthday. Big Daddy is returning home after being at the hospital and is greeted by his eldest son Gooper (Jack Carson) and Gooper’s irritating wife Mae Flynn Pollitt (Madeleine Sherwood).
Gooper and Mae Lynn are attempting to hone in on Big Daddy’s rather significant inheritance, but Maggie isn’t about to let that happen without a fight. She attempts to implore Brick to put up more of a fight, but Big Daddy’s other son has sunken so low into alcoholism that he doesn’t appear to care. In reality, however, the issues plaguing Brick are much more complex. In an alcohol-fuelled discussion with Big Daddy, Brick reveals once and for all what has been bothering him all of these years, how Maggie factors in to it, and how he struggles with the affection of his wife.
The original play contained allusions to homosexuality as being the reason Brick didn’t reciprocate Maggie’s bedroom advances. In the film, a relationship between Brick and a “friend” named Skipper is mentioned frequently as being the catalyst for Brick’s alcoholism. There are several references to Brick, including a moment in which Mae Lynn refers to him as being “big and beautiful” and several segments of dialogue which refer to a “love” between Skipper and Brick.
It is said that Tennessee Williams was less than happy with Brooks’ film adaptation of his play. He apparently told people waiting in line to see it that it would “set the industry back 50 years” and told people to “go home!” Whether or not there is any truth to that is extraneous, as Brooks’ motion picture is among the most powerful and forceful I have seen in quite some time. The dialogue is quick, the performances are remarkable from the top of the cast to the bottom, and the pacing is extraordinary.
Cat on a Hot Tin Roof was originally scheduled as a black and white shoot. Once Newman and Taylor were cast, however, the decision was made to create the movie in colour. This was largely based on the striking effervescence behind the eyes of both Newman and Taylor. In many ways, “the eyes have it.” There are moments of superb beauty from both performers, as they stare holes through other characters and produce marvellous force with only their eyes. The way in which the characters move and physically intermingle with one another is exhilarating. Seeing the colour of their eyes is a substantial part of the bigger picture.
Along with being visually impressive, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof is courageous and exceptionally sharp. We are given characters that pull no punches and go for the jugular. Scenes don’t unfold or unfurl; they explode into the open like a beast in a cage. In the movie’s critical altercation between Ives’ Big Daddy and Newman’s Brick, the dialogue and the physical presence of the two great actors is the stuff of legends. We are given characters laid bare, placed into the open, and cracked apart for all to witness. The heroism of the performers deserves to be recognized.
Cat on a Hot Tin Roof is a movie that doesn’t pander to audiences. It doesn’t patronize either. The characters use “big words” and aren’t afraid to act wisely, which is a bracing scene to see in an industry that can so often produce wonders of mediocrity. Brooks’ motion picture has the confidence to make a prop out of the word “mendacity” and to present alcoholism, family issues, homosexuality (and sexuality in general), and deception as genuine, tangible, adult issues. For its gallantry alone, this is one of the best films of the 50s.
9.7/10
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