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Montgomery Clift
This new addition to the Outlines series takes an incisive look at the rise and tragic fall of one of Hollywood's greatest actors, whose work influenced such later screen idols as Brando and Dean. Gay, alcoholic, and beautiful, Montgomery Clift found it increasingly hard to fit into a Hollywood that could never really match up to his huge talent, too often beguiled by physical presence rather than the power of his acting. Following a horrific car accident during the shooting of the epic film "Raintree Country, Clift emerged terribly scarred, both physically and emotionally. From then his life entered a tragic downward spiral. David Lancaster's book is the first to fully capture the grit and glamour of Clift's incredible an complex life.
112 pages, Paperback
First published June 1, 2004
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September 27, 2018
"He was a Caliban searching for his personal language of love and he needed a Prospero to give him a voice."
"Clift wasn't just a rebel battling within the system, a kind of counter star as he is sometimes painted, but more an unstar, suspended between different intents and possibilities."
Lancaster's study of Monty Clift benefits from the passage of time and the emergence of new ways of understanding and talking about gender and sexuality in the public sphere. He discredits the theory of "Oedipal smothering" posited by Bosworth and LaGuardia in the wake of Clift's death and attacks the notion that Monty's bedroom behavior - his "sexual limbo" sometimes characterized as bisexuality - was his defining characteristic and the source of his decline and premature death.
Lancaster counters these notions with a more nuanced perspective on Monty Clift: that films in the time in which he lived, motored by an industry still marred by prejudice towards gay actors, did not permit him the level of self-articulacy he required. He was, in a way, trapped. Lancaster goes as far as to suggest that Clift would have been better served to remain in theatre, an industry which at the time was increasingly populated by progressive writers such as Tennessee Williams and Arthur Miller.
Lancaster also provides a refreshingly pointed analysis of the technical gifts that in the view of many place Clift apart from and above Brando and Dean: the way he doesn't "announce meaning"; his revealing expressions ("his eyes yearn, but possession doesn't seem to be the point"); and the countless "walking and thinking" scenes in which he shows "grace, but no strain."
Frankly, though, I disagree with Lancaster’s characterization of “I Confess,” which brought together Clift and Alfred Hitchcock, as a “bore.” He is also harsh to call "The Search," Clift's second film, a “clichéd issue picture" lacking longevity.
"Clift wasn't just a rebel battling within the system, a kind of counter star as he is sometimes painted, but more an unstar, suspended between different intents and possibilities."
Lancaster's study of Monty Clift benefits from the passage of time and the emergence of new ways of understanding and talking about gender and sexuality in the public sphere. He discredits the theory of "Oedipal smothering" posited by Bosworth and LaGuardia in the wake of Clift's death and attacks the notion that Monty's bedroom behavior - his "sexual limbo" sometimes characterized as bisexuality - was his defining characteristic and the source of his decline and premature death.
Lancaster counters these notions with a more nuanced perspective on Monty Clift: that films in the time in which he lived, motored by an industry still marred by prejudice towards gay actors, did not permit him the level of self-articulacy he required. He was, in a way, trapped. Lancaster goes as far as to suggest that Clift would have been better served to remain in theatre, an industry which at the time was increasingly populated by progressive writers such as Tennessee Williams and Arthur Miller.
Lancaster also provides a refreshingly pointed analysis of the technical gifts that in the view of many place Clift apart from and above Brando and Dean: the way he doesn't "announce meaning"; his revealing expressions ("his eyes yearn, but possession doesn't seem to be the point"); and the countless "walking and thinking" scenes in which he shows "grace, but no strain."
Frankly, though, I disagree with Lancaster’s characterization of “I Confess,” which brought together Clift and Alfred Hitchcock, as a “bore.” He is also harsh to call "The Search," Clift's second film, a “clichéd issue picture" lacking longevity.
Displaying 1 of 1 review