Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958)
Directed by Richard Brooks

Film Review

It wasn't long after Tennessee Williams's play Cat on a Hot Tin Roof had proven a sensation on Broadway in the spring of 1955 that MGM bought the rights to a film adaptation, with James Dean and Grace Kelly likely to be shoehorned into the lead roles of Brick and Maggie Pollitt.  Williams's Pulitzer Prize-winning play turned out to be far more contentious than MGM had imagined and it took three years before the studio came up with an adapted screenplay that satisfied the unbending standards of the Hays Production Code (by which time Dean was dead and Kelly had become a real-life princess).  Out went any references to the main character's homosexuality and in came a barrel load of facile fudges to make up for the removal of this central narrative prop.  Not surprisingly, the play's author was mightily unimpressed by these alterations and even went out of his way to discourage people from seeing the film.  Despite this, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof was one of the biggest box office hits of 1958 and received no fewer than six Oscar nominations (although it failed to win a single award).

Even though it is hard to forgive MGM's inept tinkering with the plot of Williams's deliciously sour critique of American values (homophobia, mendacity and avarice are just three of the societal failings the author has in his sights), the film is at least partly redeemed by the sheer electrifying presence of the leads Paul Newman and Elizabeth Taylor.  It's incredible to think that, within a few weeks of starting work on the film, Taylor had lost her husband Mike Todd in a plane crash.  The actress had rarely given a performance of such raw power before, and seldom would again afterwards.  Although Taylor and Newman represent two very different schools of acting, the first instinctive, the second a hardened devotee of 'the method', they play off each other brilliantly, giving Williams's play the razor-sharp edge that it deserves.  The other memorable performance is supplied by Burl Ives, who, along with Madeleine Sherwood, was the only member of the cast of the original play to make it to this film version.  Ives has the physical bearing we would expect of a self-made tycoon but there are also subtleties to his performance which reveal the nature of the man within and lend an exquisite poignancy to his later scenes with Newman.

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof was originally to have been directed by George Cukor but he was replaced by the far less experienced Richard Brooks when he became daunted by the censorship problems that were likely to arise.  Brooks' decision to stage the film almost as a piece of theatre ensured it retained the claustrophobic intensity of the source play, and it also amplifies the power of the performances as there is no fancy mise-en-scène or camerawork to distract us.  Brooks would deliver more stylish work on his subsequent films (Looking for Mr. Goodbar) but here his more restrained approach suits its subject matter perfectly.

Whilst it is easy to be impressed by the performances, direction and production values generally, it is hard to get away from the fact that there are some glaring deficiencies in the screenplay.  As the real cause of the estrangement between Brick and Maggie (namely the former's homosexuality) had to be excised to appease the censor, the substitute explanation is vague and unconvincing - Brick thinks his wife had an affair with his best friend which led to his suicide; Maggie denies having had such an affair and maintains that Brick's indifference is what caused his friend to kill himself.  It makes absolutely no sense, and with one narrative hole so badly plugged it's a miracle the storyline holds together as well as it does.   Another significant departure from William's play was the inclusion of a scene in which Brick and his father manage to engineer an incredible reconciliation (and incredible is exactly the mot juste).  Even though the scene is beautifully played it just doesn't ring true and badly reeks of that familiar stench of a Hollywood-contrived happy ending.  You can see why Tennessee Williams loathed the film.  It sanitises his play to the point that it almost completely loses its meaning and renders it a monument to the gutless pusillanimity of the Hollywood censor. It scarcely bears comparison with Elia Kazan's A Streetcar Named Desire (1951), the best screen adaptation of a Tennessee Williams play.

Film Synopsis

His glory days as a professional sportsman behind him, Brick Pollitt is content to while away his remaining days wallowing in strong liquor and self-pity.  He has grown to despise his wife Maggie, despite the affection she shows him, and the couple are childless and increasingly hostile towards one another.  Reluctantly, Brick accompanies his wife to his father's cotton plantation on the Mississippi Delta, ostensibly to celebrate the patriarch's 65th birthday.  Maggie's real motive for the visit is to try to patch up relations between Brick and his father to ensure he will stand a chance of inheriting a fair share of his father's massive estate.  Contemptuous of everyone and everything, Brick is in no hurry to get back into his father's good books.  Then he discovers that the old man has an inoperable cancer and is likely to die within a year...