Anna Magnani might be an acquired taste for some. Her performances tend to be overripe and at this point of her career, she still didn’t have full command of the English language. So it’s no surprise she delivers large chunks of dialogue in her native Italian. That in itself is fine, since she’s playing an immigrant woman.
But Miss Magnani is so forcefully dramatic that all subtlety is lost in the role. One starts to think this woman can’t even walk into the kitchen for a cup of coffee or use the toilet without it becoming a huge event. It would’ve been nice if producer Hal Wallis had asked director Daniel Mann to reign the actress in a bit, so we have some variety of human emotion that indicates how a housewife normally behaves day to day.
Yes, I understand…some people are high maintenance and everything that happens to them occurs at top volume. But it sort of becomes exhausting to watch what amounts to serious overacting. It also doesn’t help that leading man Burt Lancaster fails to convey any subtlety with his characterization. As a result we have two extreme scene stealers operating full throttle, trying to outdo each other.
Fortunately Mr. Lancaster doesn’t appear until the 52-minute mark. If we had to endure two hours of them going at it, then it might have been unbearable.
The reason I believe Magnani earned the Oscar, and deservedly so, is that despite the amped up shouting, she does register considerable earthiness. Also, she seems to comprehend the crux of the drama, which is that a long-suffering wife who gave her “rose” of a husband all the glory and adulation in the world, was horribly betrayed. So we have grief prolonged, that gives way to embarrassment.
Per Tennessee Williams’ conception of the character she has to experience public humiliation in order to reach humility. The church scenes where she confronts the local priest (Sandro Giglio) about her husband’s confessions is probably the best part. We can see how difficult acceptance and forgiveness will be for her.
I also feel Marisa Pavan does quite well as the daughter experiencing growing pains in this dysfunctional household. There are tender, understated moments between Miss Pavan and Ben Cooper who plays her sailor boyfriend. To be honest, this part of the story reminded me of the invalid daughter and gentleman caller in Williams’ earlier masterpiece, The Glass Menagerie.
Mr. Cooper is suitably attractive, and he is able to generate the requisite amount of sincerity needed for the role. We want Pavan’s character to find lasting happiness with him. There’s a great scene where the boyfriend is made to kneel and pray to a statue of the Virgin, vowing he’ll keep the daughter’s innocence intact until marriage.
In the original Broadway stage production, a young Don Murray played the sailor, and Maureen Stapleton had Magnani’s role. Interestingly, Stapleton took a supporting part under Magnani in THE FUGITIVE KIND in 1960, which was also written by Williams.
I did appreciate this film as a legitimate piece of theater turned into cinema. But I also got a bit of a headache from the loud stereotypes.
Of or Involving Motion Pictures 