Best Picture: #28
Original Release Date: April 11, 1955
Rating: Not Rated
Runtime: 1 hour, 30 minutes
Director: Delbert Mann
Quick Impressions:
Marty is that rare thing–a Best Picture winner that my mother actually likes. (There are others, of course. She’s a Casablanca fan, too, but in general, my mom and the Academy have vastly different ideas of what makes a great film.)
Because my mother is a fan of Marty, I saw it several times as a child. I’ve always found it vaguely inoffensive with a pleasant moral and a solid (Oscar-winning) lead performance by Ernest Borgnine. But I don’t think I really got the movie as a kid. I understood the plot, of course. (It’s pretty easy to follow, a simple story of boy meets girl.) But as a forty-something woman looking back on my twenties (the time before I met my husband), the movie seems insightful and profound in a way I didn’t truly appreciate as a child. Its realistic portrayal of how it feels to be single as all your peers find a life partner, and random others ask you, “Why aren’t you married?” feels so spot on. That’s the strength of the movie for sure, its realism, the feeling that it evokes. Anyone who has met me knows I’m not an Italian man in my mid-30s who’s thinking of buying a butcher shop in his neighborhood in New York in 1955.
But watching Marty again with my daughter, I could completely relate to the story. In almost every scene, the film made me remember a similar moment from my own life. (I’m forty-one, by the way. Calling myself forty-something makes me sound older than I am!)
The Plot:
New York butcher Marty comes from a big, Italian American family, and he’s the only sibling left unmarried. He lives with his widowed mother in the family home and spends his Saturday nights with his best friend Angie, who never seems to know what to do. People constantly tell Marty he should be ashamed of himself because he’s not married, but Marty sees himself as fat, ugly, and unremarkable, and he can’t seem to find a meaningful connection with a woman. Then he meets Clara, a plain, shy twenty-nine-year-old high school chemistry teacher whose date ditches her because he’s a jerk. Sparks fly. Meanwhile, Marty’s Aunt Catherine is being thrown out of her son’s apartment because she can’t get along with his wife.
The Good:
The Academy honors so many films about war (which is understandable since the two World Wars were without question defining events of the twentieth century). But its nice to see some recognition for a movie that focuses on a different slice of life.
Wow can I relate to this movie! When I look back over my life and break it into segments, I always think that my time in grad school before I met my husband lasted a decade. In fact, it was just over two years. Those were long years. I got the feeling that my entire family and all their friends felt that I should be happily married, but I am not great at dating. Almost every time I matched with someone in any online dating service, the person turned out to be in a cult. My best friend insisted that my inability to answer multiple choice questions “the right way” was responsible for that. I’m still not sure how taking multiple choice tests reveals relationship compatibility. Imagine a romantic comedy, and the best friend character asks, “Did you feel fireworks when you kissed him?” And, completely bemused, the protagonist answers, “No, but he was so good at taking multiple choice tests!” Multiple choice tests are ideal if you don’t know the material and are trying to guess, but shouldn’t you know who you are before finding a partner?
Anyway, I finally met my husband (in person, which is miraculous because I’m cripplingly shy (except when I’m alarmingly outgoing)). I was so relieved. What’s funny, though, is that then I began getting questions like, “Don’t you think you’re a little too close?” And I’ve seen so many friends relentlessly hounded about why they didn’t have children yet, and then others criticized for having children too soon or having too many children.
One thing I love about Marty is its assertion that it’s perfectly normal (even sensible) to take your time selecting a partner. But what makes the movie even better is the way that it goes on to show that Marty finds happiness by trusting his own heart, knowing his own mind, recognizing what he wants, and taking steps to make it happen. He finds someone when he wants to look. He responds to someone with whom he has a genuine connection. And once he feels that connection, he pays attention to it, doing what he thinks is right for his own life, disregarding unhelpful advice.
My daughter and I just saw Ernest Borgnine play a completely different character in From Here to Eternity, and I’m sure his versatility contributed to his Oscar win. I love the way he plays Marty, making him so open, unassuming, vulnerable. He gives him such a pleasant speaking voice, too. (I love the way he’s always saying stuff like, “It was a very nice affair,” as if he’s had to talk himself into not being miserable by rehearsing these safe talking points. You get the idea that random acquaintances frequently take the liberty of criticizing his life, yet he manages to stay positive most of the time.)
Betsy Blair is also good as Clara, though I find myself wondering exactly how ugly she’s supposed to be. The actress is Hollywood ugly. She just looks dressed down, like she’s leaning into her frumpy side. So many people refer to her as a “dog” that it becomes baffling. If you ask me, she’s plain, not ugly, and she’s probably only plain because we’re seeing her deglammed for the role. Granted, the people who criticize her most harshly (i.e. everyone who talks about her) all have motivation to dislike her. Marty’s mother is afraid. Angie is jealous. Her original date resents her.
I also particularly enjoyed Marty’s mother (Esther Minciotti) and aunt (Augusta Ciolli) who are given some of the funniest lines in the film. They often seem like they’re auditioning for Golden Girls. Both actresses use Aunt Catherine’s moroseness and negativity to get laughs, yet at the same time, the sadness of the entire situation gradually ekes into their scenes together. Minciotti does a particularly nice job of letting us see the transition in Marty’s mother’s behavior as her sister’s situation and persuasions begin to affect her thoughts.
The film is great because it manages to highlight both the comedic elements and the tragedy of ordinary life.
Best Scene:
This might sound strange. But my favorite moment in the entire movie comes when Marty stands talking with his friends outside the diner near the end of the movie. I love the way Ernest Borgnine plays that moment, how he closes his eyes and takes deep breaths, weighing the issue in his mind, coming to a resolution.
I’m always impressed by powerful non-verbal moments in performances. If I have something important to say, I default to words. Often my face does not reveal what I’m thinking. My default expression is one of worry. (And though I do tend to be anxious in unfamiliar situations, usually the thing I’m so worried about is trying to keep a neutral facial expression.)
Even though there’s another great moment when Marty can’t stop talking–even after he becomes aware that he can’t stop talking–I think the heart of Borgnine’s performance is nonverbal. Oh, Marty talks often enough, but it’s usually about mundane things. We have to read what’s actually in his heart by watching him carefully. Usually, his dialogue doesn’t tell us what he’s actually feeling. Instead, we must watch him emote and make inferences. It’s a wonderful performance.
Funniest Scenes:
My daughter loves the moment when Aunt Catherine finishes every sentence with someone’s death. I personally like a similar scene later on when one of Marty’s friends pointlessly chatters on and on about Mickey Spillane novels. These scenes are about totally different things, but the writing is similar, the way the jokes are set up.
Best Action Sequence:
Marty’s extremely kinetic first date with Clara reminds me of my first (night) date with my husband, when we just kept finding new places to go as places closed or we ran out of excuses to keep tables.
My favorite random moment:
The conversation between two women at the bar (about the friend who was told by the doctor that having another baby would kill her) strikes a chord with me because I’ve overheard or been part of so many conversations like this during my life. It just seems so real. It’s a situation that happens so often.
Best Scene Visually:
I like the moment when Marty punches the sign in his exuberance.
Also great is the reaction by his mother as he begins to notice the house is falling apart.
To be honest, the cinematography didn’t make much of an impression on me, but the set decoration is incredible. Who found all of these kooky props, little items stashed in the background of scenes that make the film that much more realistic?
The Negatives:
It’s weird how much the word “dog” is used in this movie. Part of my discomfort, surely, is just that people don’t call women “dogs” that often anymore. The quickness with which the single guys sum up available women is certainly off-putting, but it’s probably realistic enough. (Did guys constantly call women “dogs” in the 1950s? Is it slang more often used by Italian Americans in New York? Did they actually call them something else, and it just had to be censored for movies?) I’ve certainly heard of calling unattractive/undesirable women “dogs,” but so often? I swear the word “dog” is in this movie 90,000 times! It’s a pretty toxic culture! (What about their mothers? I’m assuming they don’t want to date their mothers. Are their mothers dogs? I guess Tommy’s mother does get thrown out when she barks.)
On a related note, I don’t understand why everyone seems to think Clara is so unspeakably ugly. At first it seems clear that when guys call her “a dog” what they mean is she’s meek, plain, and probably won’t put out. But then later on, people who’ve barely met her (or in some cases haven’t even seen her) buy into this notion that she’s a dog. I find it bizarre. She’s not conspicuously ugly. I will confess, though, that I personally find her a bit frustrating as a character. I don’t think that I would fall in love with her myself. Marty feels unusually comfortable opening up around her, and that’s great, but she hardly ever talks. I suppose the things that she says are very revealing, though. She is quite vulnerable with him.
I also found the failed kiss painfully awkward to watch. I have a lot of feelings about that. I suppose that’s a good thing. If I were to write an analysis of the film, I would begin with that scene because it is the most uncomfortable.
Then my daughter almost died during the last twenty minutes of this movie. It begins so uneventfully. Then suddenly the last twenty minutes give us almost painful suspense. That’s not a bad thing, but for a long stretch near the end, the movie is so anxiety-inducing. My daughter was yelling at the screen in outraged horror. Honestly that the film is inventive enough to coax such incredible suspense from such a mundane situation is one of its strengths. But watching it can cause torment.
Another small matter is not a strike against the film, but rather a longing for a little more resolution. I wish we knew for sure what will happen with Marty’s mother (and his Aunt Catherine, for that matter). Though the Aunt Catherine subplot provides several laughs, her storyline is actually quite sad. If we use it as a prototype to predict the way Marty’s mother’s future will unfold, things don’t look good. I wish we could get a bit more closure there. (It’s hard to imagine that Tommy and Virginia’s marriage will work out long term. All Tommy does is scream all the time. His wife will be throwing him out next.)
Overall:
Ernest Borgnine gives an outstanding, complex, intensely emotive performance in the story of a man who just wants to make an ordinary life for himself that he can enjoy. I like Marty, and I think most other people would, too.