ASK ANY SCREENWRITER and they'll tell you most movies consist of three basic elements: settings, action and dialogue. And of the three, dialogue counts least.
Because the essence of motion pictures is just that: motion. There's a lot of ways that's accomplished -- settings are changed sometimes by the minute and even within any one setting an ever-changing mix of long, medium and close shots keeps the visual action going.
And that's not even including the actual action, which can range from a longing glance to a fatal throat chop and all the way up to the utter and total destruction of a Death Star.
That's not to say that there isn't great dialogue to be found in film, but in movies the general rule is whenever possible, show it rather than say it.
Which makes it especially curious that some of the truly great films have come from stage plays, a realm where change of scene is left to the imagination and dialogue is the action.
THE FILMING OF STAGE PLAYS goes back to the beginning of movies themselves. Shakespeare's King John made its film debut in 1899 (coming in at slightly longer than a minute):
Okay, it was just the death scene, and there were no dialogue cards but the actors were stage actors recreating their stage performance (and believe it or not, a lot of people actually read Shakespeare back then and would know what was going on).
But I digress. The point is that there's been plays on film for as long as there's been movies.
THE EARLIEST SILENT FILMS themselves made great use of stage actors, accustomed as they were to emoting in a confined space, especially through grand gestures (D.W. Griffith favored opera singers for their even grander gestures).
True, that was in the early days when cameras remained mostly stationary and the action took place on a painted set so flimsy that walls shook whenever doors were closed. But even as the industry developed stars in their own right, and learned how to move their cameras along the way, stage actors made up a sizeable portion of the ensemble.
And stage plays -- their dialogue often highly edited -- sometimes made the transition to silent film. Maurice Maeterlinck's The Blue Bird was filmed just two years after its world premiere in 1908. Sarah Bernhardt brought her acclaimed stage performance as Camille to film in 1912 -- twenty-five years before Garbo made the role hers forever. Lon Chaney, Sr. starred in Ibsen's A Doll's House in 1917 for the Universal Film Manufacturing Corporation (today, Universal Studios). And the still-acclaimed Seventh Heaven was a 1927 nominee for Best Picture -- the first year of the Oscars -- becoming the first winner of an Oscar for Best Writing, Adaptation (competing against Glorious Betsy and The Jazz Singer, also from stage plays.)
And silent films from stage plays sometimes made film history in unexpected ways: He Who Gets Slapped, based on the Russian play Ot, Kto Poluchayet Poshchechini by Leonid Andreyev, was not only the newly formed Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer's first production, but the first film to feature MGM's enduring mascot -- a then-silent Leo the Lion.
And it was the film of the stage play The Undying Past by Hermann Sudermann-- which in Hollywoodese became Flesh and the Devil -- which not only featured filmdom's first horizontal kiss, but its first open-mouthed French kiss (Greta Garbo and John Gilbert, the two stars, were going at it hot and heavy in real life as well).
In fact it was a stage play which would signal the coming end to silent films. A 17th-century Spanish playwright -- Tirso de Molina-- had created the 14th-century Don Juan in his play El burlador de Sevilla y convidado de piedra ('The Trickster of Seville and the Stone Guest'). The Don Juan legend was so potent he would emerge again in over a dozen subsequent plays across the centuries, including ones by Moliere, Alexander Dumas, and George Bernard Shaw (and also Mozart's little ditty, Don Giovanni). And it was John Barrymore, Sr. as Don Juan which would make film history as the first synchronized sound film, in 1926.
And no, it wasn't The Jazz Singer, commonly believed to hold that honor. True, Don Juan had no recorded dialogue, only music. But it came a full year before The Jazz Singer, which, as already mentioned, was itself based on a stage play (by Samson Raphaelson).
AND IT WAS WITH THE ADVENT of sound (aka 'talking pictures' or talkies) that stage plays really began to come into their own as cinematic fare.
And for a very good reason.
Actually, for two very good reasons.
The first was that 'talking pictures' needed dialogue. Something beyond, "They used to be like children, carefree... always happy and laughing" -- the first line of dialogue of the deservedly classic silent film Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans, which doesn't come until 8 minutes into the film, followed by, "Now he ruins himself for that woman from the city -- Money-lenders strip the farm -- and his wife sits alone."
But again, I digress (talking movies does that to me). The point being that with sound, films needed real, believable, human-sounding dialogue. And there was plenty of that already written for the modern theater.
But the other very good reason was pretty much the same as for the first silent films: filming with sound was so tricky that at first the camera needed to move as little as possible (see Singing in the Rain for details). And so stage plays, with their dramatic action in a static setting fit the bill perfectly.
And though the camera didn't move much, the results were still sometimes pretty damn good, even classic:
For the younger viewers, that's Bela Lugosi recreating his role as Dracula, from the stage play by by Hamilton Deane and John L. Balderston. And like Lugosi, there were a lot of new film stars who made their cinematic debut recreating their stage performances.
Plays also sometimes made film history in the early days of sound. For instance, when MGM needed a property to introduce the voice of its biggest star -- the heavily-accented Swede, Greta Garbo -- it chose Eugene O'Neill's Anna Christie. Garbo talked, and film history was made:
Okay, so that's the German version filmed simultaneously with the lesser American version. But you get the idea.
A stage play also made cinematic history when -- thanks to film legend David O. Selznik -- Becky Sharp became the first feature film to be made in full color (it was filmed in 3-strip color Technicolor, rather than today's four, but its vivid hues were a sensation of its time). And Becky Sharp earned a best-actress Oscar nomination for Miriam Hopkins.
The two Becky Sharps: Mrs. Fiske in the 1899 Langdon Mitchell play, and Miriam Hopkins in the 1935 all-color movie. |
In 1933 film history was again made when a playwright not only had her stage play Diamond Lil transferred to film (in Hollywoodese, She Done Him Wrong), but played the lead as well, becoming Hollywood's first playwright-star as well as an enduring Hollywood legend:
The film didn't do too badly for an up and coming young actor named Cary Grant, either.
And over the decades from-stage-to-film movies would continue to make film history.
In 1935, the film version of Eugene O'Neill's Ah, Wilderness would be the first movie to be actively marketed in a trade paper (the Hollywood Reporter) in order to garner Oscar nominations. The eight-page spread included MGM's Leo the Lion in white tie and tails with the inscription ''LEO . . . you've given so much . . . get ready to RECEIVE!'' (and in case that was too subtle, also included critics' quotes, such as "Eric Linden's work should receive the utmost consideration when choosing the academy prize performance of the year'', along with a picture of the Oscar statuette). None of which, by the way, worked. The film received no nominations.
The next year, the first all-black play to become a film -- Marc Connelly's Pulitzer-Prize winning The Green Pastures -- brought a sadly stereotypical portrayal of black characters to the screen. Still, its premise -- biblical tales enacted by an all-black cast, including black angels and God as a black man (called 'De Lawd') -- was a ground-breaking departure from the all-white biblical epics which had come before, and which would remain for decades to come. The cinematography was first-rate and the limited effects (such as the creation of the Earth) were as good as any film of the time. The actors were all uniformly excellent, showing a range which -- because of the attitudes of the time -- were never to be played out to their full potential on screen for decades to come. And it may be the earliest film ever to retain much of the 'staginess' of the original, recreating a theater-like experience:
Stage plays would also make their contribution to the year commonly called "the greatest year in film history": 1939. Hob-nobbing with the likes of Gone With the Wind, The Wizard of Oz and Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, were the stage-bred movies Dark Victory (starring an Academy-Award nominated Bette Davis), Zoe Akins' Pulitzer-Prize winning The Old Maid (with Bette Davis and Miriam Hopkins), and The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex (based on the Maxwell Anderson play, Elizabeth the Queen, and starring Bette Davis and Errol Flynn).
But there were was one standout even amongst these, and Claire Booth's stage play The Women -- with not one male in the cast -- remains a classic today:
After that seminal year, stage plays as movies blended back into the crowd, just another source out of many to inspire films, and were no longer needed as they once were. In large part, this had also to do with filmdom's maturity. Many playwrights (as well as novelists) became screen writers and their work was now to be found as original screen-plays: Samson Raphaelson, Robert E. Sherwood, Ben Hecht, Lillian Hellman and Arthur Laurents being amongst the best known.
But every now and then, one would stand out from the crowd, both as a play and a film...
'BEST' 10 LISTS ARE USUALLY bullcrap (unless of course, they pick all the same ones as you would). So consider the following to be nothing more than personal favorites.
But there is some criteria involved as well: the stage-to-film movies which follow have all been faithful to the source material. They all retain the vibrancy of a live performance. But most important, they present a story so well told that for a time one leaves the present world, and enters theirs. So here are ten personal favorites, in the order of the year they were released:
Number 10: The Baretts of Wimpole Street (1934)
With an impeccable cast (Norma Shearer, Frederick March, Charles Laughton and Maureen O'Sullivan) this story of the romance between a sickly and frail Elizabeth Barrett and dashing, vibrant Robert Browning is at once lyrical and terrifying, with Laughton at his creepy best as a domineering father whose sexual repression is almost visceral.
Number 9: His Girl Friday (1940)
When it comes to the criteria listed above, this one breaks the rule: it's not literally faithful to the stage version of Ben Hecht's and Charles MacArthur's The Front Page (which was made as a film in 1931). A sly commentary on sensationalist media that holds even more true today, the original was framed around newspaper editor Walter Burns' underhanded attempts to keep ace reporter Hildy Johnson from leaving the paper and marrying. Written for two men, the Hollywood legend goes that at a party director Howard Hawks was in a vigorous discussion of the play and claimed that despite two male leads it was really the story of a divorce. To prove his point, he had a woman read the Hildy Johnson part while he read the Walter Burns role. The result was so funny that the great idea was born and film history was made. His Girl Friday became the story of Walter's ex-wife being the ace reporter, who was leaving the paper to get re-married. And in that rarest of exceptions, it actually improved on the original. The performances by Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell -- delivered at a rapid-fire pace with ad libs thrown in -- have lost none of their luster over the years. And the supporting performances -- especially that of Ralph Bellamy as the country bumpkin -- were all first-rate as well.
Number 8: The Winslow Boy (1948)
Known as master of the well constructed four-act play, Terrence Rattigan's tale of a 13 year-old Royal Naval College cadet falsely accused of stealing a money order was based on a real-life incident. With Cedrick Hardewick as the father who sacrifices all to clear his son's name, Margaret Leighton as his suffragette daughter grappling with the issues of love and identity, and especially Robert Donat (of Goodbye, Mr. Chips fame) as the egotistical lawyer who believes a women's place is in the home, the conflict grabs from the first minutes and never lets go.
Remade in 1999, this pretty-good version unfortunately still falls short of the original:
Number 7: I Remember Mama (1948)
In 1943, writer Kathryn Anderson, writing under the pen name of Kathryn Forbes, had her collection of short stories -- based on her experiences in the early 1900s as grand-daughter of a family of Norwegian immigrants in San Francisco -- published as the book Mama's Bank Account. Playwright John Van Druten brought it to stage as I Remember Mama. The film, retaining the scene-by-scene structure and dialogue of the play, was directed and performed with great delicacy and care, resulting in a sublime rendering that was rare for Hollywood. Irene Dunne as Mama, Ellen Corby as one of her sisters, Barbara Bel Geddes as daughter Katrin, and Oskar Hommolka as the imperious Uncle Chris all earned Oscar nominations, but the rest of the cast was fine as well.
Number 6: Harvey (1950)
A brilliantly written fantasy with a world-class performance by James Stewart (recreating his stage role) as Elwood P. Dowd, this parable about conformity and individualism is so sweetly and lightly done that the story of a man whose best friend is a giant invisible rabbit is easily believable, and that's no small trick. Nor does the acting glory belong solely to James Stewart: Josephine Hull as the fluttery sister and especially Cecil Kelloway as the psychiatrist with secret longings each have glorious moments of their own. And as in the stage version, the film demonstrates that sometimes the best special effects are those imagined, and not seen.
Number 5: Mister Roberts (1955)
Set on a Navy cargo ship out of harm's way during the last days of the war in the Pacific, Executive Officer Doug Roberts sees the war -- and life -- passing him by. But the despotic captain of the ship refuses his frequent requests for transfer, and so he is stuck in an achingly dull world where he is the only barrier between the captain's petty tyrannies and the sailors for whom Roberts is a hero. Henry Fonda recreates his acclaimed stage performance in this comedy-drama directed by John Ford, and with James Cagney as the martinet Captain, William Powell as the sagish ship's doctor, and Jack Lemmon as the scheming Ensign Pulver the film is also an acting tour de force. Which is as it should be -- when the play made its pre-Broadway tour the sets were delayed and so a performance in Washington went on using only boxes with a black backdrop. Joshua Logan -- the director and co-writer -- would later write that, stripped down to pure acting, it was the most powerful rendition of the play ever preformed, with the audience sitting in stunned silence at the closing curtain.
Number 4: A Raisin in the Sun (1961)
Lorraine Hansberry's story of the dreams and tribulations of a struggling black family in 1950s Chicago is as powerful today as when first seen on the stage in 1959. The play itself heralded two milestones: it was the first on Broadway to be written by a black woman, and the first as well to have a black director (Lloyd Richards). Remarkably, the Broadway cast remained intact for the film, with Claudia McNeill as the family matriarch, Sydney Poitier as the son tortured by his place in life, Ruby Dee as the wife considering having an abortion, and Diana Sands as the ultra-modern and forward-looking sister, whose eye is on becoming a doctor.
Number 3: Deathtrap (1982)
Ira Levin's delicious farce is a five-character, one set, murder thriller about a writer out to write the perfect five-character, one set, murder thriller. The sparkling dialogue is given full force by the impeccable cast: Michael Caine as Sydney Bruhl, the has-been playwright considering murdering a former student and claiming the student's play as his own, Dyan Cannon as the wife both repulsed and thrilled with the idea, Christopher Reeve as the student who has plans of his own, Henry Jones as the attorney who inadvertently sets off the perfect plot twist, and especially Irene Worth as Helga Ten Dorpe, the interfering Dutch psychic known for her crime-solving visions, keep the tension -- and laughs -- at full throttle throughout.
Number 2: Jeffrey (1994)
Gay love in the time of AIDS may not seem the stuff of comedy, but as presented in this at times uproarious, at times heart-wrenching film of Paul Rudnick's play it becomes the impetus for much laughter, and many tears. The lead performances by Stephen Webber (of Wings fame) and Michael T. Weiss (TV's The Pretender ) are stellar, with a scenery-chewing scene-stealing performance by Patrick Stewart (aka Captain Picard) as the conscience of the piece. Incisive cameos include Sigourney Weaver, Victor Garber, Christine Baranski, Kathy Najimy, and Oylmpia Dukakis.
Number 1: Angels in America (2003)
Filmed for HBO, there is no doubt that Angels in America is one of the all-time great cinematic experiences, regardless of its being a 'television' movie. Life, death, love, hate, sex, religion, loyalty, betrayal, power, politics, despair and redemption -- all the eternally great themes are explored and pondered in this achingly poetic and lyrical fantasia. This film version of Tony Kushner's Pulitzer Prize winning work was helmed by Academy Award winning director Mike Nichols, and included Meryl Streep, Al Pacino, Mary-Louise Parker, Emma Thompson and Jeffrey Wright among its big-name players. But the roles played by the lesser-known Justin Kirk, Ben Shenkman and Patrick Wilson are just as stunning. A remarkable filming of a remarkable play.
THINK I'VE MISSED one that deserves to be on the list? Maybe Auntie Mame, Six Degrees Of Separation, Proof, Anastasia, Member Of The Wedding, I'm Not Rappaport, Kiss Of The Spider Woman, Life With Father, Glengarry Glen Ross, Alfie, Children Of A Lesser God, Gaslight, Anne of the Thousand Days, The Philadelphia Story, Indiscreet, Love! Valour! Compassion!, The Bad Seed, The Caine Mutiny, Bell Book And Candle, The Lion In Winter, A Soldier's Story, Our Town, They Might Be Giants, Abe Lincoln in Illinois, My Sister Eileen, Desk Set, Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolf?, The Matchmaker, Beckett, A Streetcar Named Desire, Amadeus, Wait Until Dark, Brighton Beach Memoirs, Night Must Fall, The Devils, Arsenic And Old Lace, No Time For Sergeants, The Crucible, How To Marry A Millionaire, Bus Stop, The Seven Year Itch, Long Day's Journey Into Night, The Diary Of Anne Frank, Dial M for Murder, Equus, Marat/Sade, The Miracle Worker, Blithe Spirit, Torch Song Trilogy, Nuts, Inherit The Wind, The Dark At The Top Of The Stairs, Cat On A Hot Tin Roof, And Then There Were None, The Country Girl, 'night Mother, The Children's Hour, Death And The Maiden, Noises Off, Sleuth, Mourning Becomes Electra, The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, Steel Magnolias, Blythe Spirit, Suddenly Last Summer, Prelude to a Kiss, Doubt, Rear Window, Agnes of God, On Golden Pond, or any of the dozens upon dozens upon dozens more that might have been mentioned?
Then feel free to add 'em, below.