| Peter Bogdanovich on James Stewart: |
[07 Nov 2005|08:59pm] |
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Rebel Prince - Rufus Wainwright |
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* * *
William Smith Jefferson Smith Ben McKenna Jeff McNeal was bornandraised
in LansingMichigan Muncie MiddletownOhio FortDodge
grew to sixfootfour but had a way (which wasn't easy) of keeping his head down and looking up at you; stuttered, stammered; was great at basketball, better at baseball; a Boy Scout leader; wore his hair slicked down ("Jus' like a kid goin' t'Sund'y School"); hemmed, hawed; had a nasal stuffed-jaw voice that shook when he whispered, that you could tell a block away ("I don't s'pose you'd... m'by... shlow down on your way through Fort Dawdge an' m'by... drawp by?"); took his hat off coming into your house.
Reticent ("Never been much of a talker"), bashful ("Always took a team just to drag him to a dance"), innocent ("Jus' a country boy"), easily hurt ("Ya gotta put some pants on that guy"), awkward (kept his fingers together when holding a girl, as though if he opened them, she might slip away), he
became a lawyer, doctor, reporter, shop clerk, flier, sheriff, teacher, was appointed to the Senate, never left the hometown.
His Dad used to tell him: "The only causes worth fighting for are lost causes..."
That sank in - deep.
But the bigguys - fat pokerplaying moneygrubbing graft-taking guys with bigcigars - they didn't think he looked like much: "The simpleton of all time - a big-eyed patriot - knows Washington and Lincoln by heart... collects stray boys and cats..."
"This boy's honest, not stupid."
"Dreamer!"
"He'll be good - when his voice stops changing."
"Don Quixote!"
"He wants to go it alone - but we'll get him."
Thought because he was too shy to look at the marriage bed, this sap was a pushover, a twentyfourkarat sucker.
They didn't know Willie Johnny Scottie Jeff. Didn't know you could fool him just so long. Didn't know what his Dad used to tell him.
"Dope!"
"Idealist!"
That he could go from: "Who! Miss-! Is that-? Why didn't you-? Holy smoke. H'hello... Yes, Miss Paine... How-how are you, Miss Paine...? What... Escort you - gee - I mean - sure - yes! I'd be - Reception for a princess! Gawsh!"
to a twentyfourhour filibuster culminating in: "You think I'm licked. You all think I'm licked. Well, I'm not licked and I'm going to stay right here and fight for this lost cause even if this room gets filled with lies like these."
At his lowest ebb, he wished he'd never been born till a fellow showed him what his town'd be like if that were so - all those people he'd helped, all those lives he'd saved. Always fairandsquare never belowthebelt where the bigguys hit.
The kids knew about him - no matter what anyone said or what lies they printed. Not fooled. Knew about this dreamer-dope. Knew what his Dad had told him.
Then the war came.
And it changed Slim Mac Joe Skinny. No longer the wide-eyed boy in the bigcity, shocked by corruption, outraged by deceit. Knows now that the world stinks; what men are capable of; that fighting fair doesn't always win. Had seen his fellows fall with the flag; knows it takes more than ideals and a stoutheart to win.
No more the simplesucker the easytouch the fallguy; tough now, skeptical, worldly, cynical ("I'm only a reporter - I just write the story").
"The only causes worth fighting for-"
"That an' a dime'll buy me a cup of coffee!"
But the kids know, can see beneath the hard shell. Just convince him. Make him believe. Show 'im it ain't phony. The kids know, without knowing...
"...are lost causes."
that the toughness hides a view of the way the world oughta be but never is - oughta be.
Better fighter now, stronger, can tell the fatguy's move, more stubborn, knows about bending the rules of the game; would use his fists now (though he still looks even in the midst of fury saddened at the violence sick because of it); let them kick his insides up, drag him through the fire, shoot him in the hand - they could not equal what he'd seen before he
fought this battle.
Though settleddown with wifeandkids; sourly ridingtherange bitterly coveringthestory arguingthecase drawingfaster - aging - the old words and the hometown come back to haunt him still
THEmuncieONLYdodgeCAUSESlancingWORTHmiddletownFIGHTING...
Still wears his hair slicked down; still stammers near the girl; still takes his hat off in the house;
Still the American.
* * *
<3
From my favourite book on cinema, EVER.
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