Body and Soul (1947)

John Garfield giving his testimony before HUAC, April 23, 1951

 

BODY AND SOUL        A-                 
USA  (104 mi)  1947  d:  Robert Rossen

Money’s got no conscience, Charlie.  Here, take it.       —Roberts (Lloyd Gough)

According to film critic Jim Hoberman, author of several books and longtime critic for The Village Voice, BODY AND SOUL (47) is the most Jewish film released between THE JAZZ SINGER (1927) and THE PRODUCERS (1967), where more communists worked on this movie than any other American film, described as the product of the most concentrated leftist radical energy ever seen in Hollywood, released shortly before the House Un-American Activities Committee held nine days of hearings in October 1947 into alleged communist propaganda and influence in the Hollywood motion picture industry.  This was precipitated by a July 29, 1946 column entitled “A Vote for Joe Stalin” written by William R. Wilkerson, publisher and founder of The Hollywood Reporter, who provided a list of alleged communists and their sympathizers.  Drawing upon the list, which included 43 subpoenaed names, 19 of whom refused to testify, leading to ten writers and directors known as the Hollywood Ten who were cited for contempt of Congress and immediately fired the next day by the studios, creating a Hollywood blacklist on November 25, 1947.  Eventually more than 300 artists, including directors, radio commentators, actors, and most notably screenwriters were blacklisted by the studios in hearings that lasted into the early 1950’s.  While the blacklist was rarely made explicit or verifiable, it directly damaged the careers of scores of individuals working in the motion picture industry, some of whom left the country to find work elsewhere, while some worked under aliases, and others remained out of work for over a decade.  The blacklist was rooted in events of the 30’s during the Great Depression when two major industry strikes increased tensions between the producers and the unions, particularly the Screen Writers Guild, which came under attack by the House Un-American Activities Committee for the radical leanings of many of its members, which escalated in 1947 when more than a dozen writers were called to testify.  Among the films scrutinized by the committee were Frank Capra’s IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE (1946), something of a surprise, and Edward Dmytryk’s CROSSFIRE (1947), a searing portrait of anti-Semitism, where Dmytryk is one of the Hollywood Ten.  While there was a wartime alliance against Hitler and Nazi Germany between the United States and the Soviet Union, postwar perceptions changed, with communists increasingly coming under fire, becoming a focus of American fears and hatred.  Of interest, in 2012, in a 65th anniversary article, Wilkerson’s son apologized for the newspaper’s role in the blacklist, claiming his father was motivated by revenge for his own thwarted ambition to own a studio.  The committee was always looking for a big named Hollywood star to provide an exclamation point to their work, placing much of their emphasis on John Garfield who was called before the HUAC committee in 1951.

John Garfield was born in the Lower East Side of Manhattan to Russian Jewish immigrants in a poor, working class neighborhood where communists were not unusual and were simply part of the everyday landscape, joining Lee Strasberg’s New York-based Group Theater before moving to Hollywood in the late 30’s where he became associated with gritty, hard-nosed, and working-class characters.  While his wife was a communist, as was his secretary, there’s no indication Garfield was ever a member, nonetheless the House Un-American Activities Committee hounded Garfield to his death, as after his original testimony, he learned they were reviewing the transcripts for possible perjury charges, where he died at the age of 39 of a heart attack, allegedly aggravated by the stress of the blacklisting.  Director Robert Rossen’s parents were also Russian Jewish immigrants from the Lower East Side, where both Rossen and Garfield ran in a similar gang-infested world of gamblers, bootleggers, hustlers, and prostitutes, where Rossen was drawn to the Communist Party as a form of social protest against the disillusionment caused by the social and economic hardships of the Depression in the 30’s.  Add to this screenwriter Abraham Polonsky, also from Russian Jewish parents in New York, where we begin to see a pattern of real life that left an imprint on each of these artists.  Rossen was blacklisted in 1951, one of the 19 unfriendly witnesses who refused to testify in 1947, but felt deceived and disillusioned by the Communist Party’s support of the brutal Russian dictatorship under Stalin, breaking all prior ties with the party in 1949, but was able to work again in 1953 after providing the names of 57 other people who were or had been communists.  If one explores the narrative of his later work THE HUSTLER (1961), in many ways it parallels the themes and storyline of BODY AND SOUL.  It’s also interesting that ALL THE KING’S MEN (1949), directed before the blacklisting, and THE HUSTLER (1961), directed afterwards, were both selected to the National Film Registry.  Both Polonsky and Garfield, teamed up again in Force of Evil (1948), were blacklisted as much for the tone of their films as their politics, where Polonsky’s heroes are cocky, self-assured loners who are outside the mainstream of society, the kind of guys that break the rules in order to get ahead, often disregarding the interests of others, while Garfield was viewed as a working class hero, a kid literally from the streets who became a success in Hollywood bringing a rough-edged authenticity to his characters.  These were not the cardboard cut out caricatures of morally righteous men that dominated Hollywood cinema.  Polonsky also wrote a part for a washed-up boxer (Canada Lee, a middleweight boxing champion of the 30’s, who also died shortly after being blacklisted) in BODY AND SOUL, one of the earlier examples of a black character portrayed with such humanity, a man exploited whose feelings and emotions mattered, exactly the kind of challenging work that was viewed as critical of America and raised the suspicions of the HUAC Committee.   

While perhaps impossible to believe today, but in the 30’s and 40’s perhaps one-third of all boxers were Jewish, as they were the ethnic group rising from the slums to get a chance to make something of themselves.  Given such skillful direction by Rossen, along with Polonsky’s blunt cynicism in a screenplay about how the system is fixed, Garfield’s own street swagger makes him born to play boxer Charlie Davis, something of an update on the Clifford Odets Group Theater play The Golden Boy, which tackles a film noir theme of a working class hero who is exploited and eventually brought down by the corrupt forces of capitalism, where the fight promoter Roberts (Lloyd Gough) could just as easily be George C. Scott as the unscrupulous manager Bert Gordon in THE HUSTLER, or Don King during the Muhammad Ali era, as he’s little more than a sophisticated gangster who bankrolls the fights, but takes no chances when it comes to his money, so he fixes the outcome, then makes a killing on the betting odds.  The first boxing movie to shine a light on the sport’s ugly underbelly, the sport is still tainted by this underworld association with gambling, where Las Vegas, a town built by organized crime, continues to set the odds.  It’s this lurid world of gangsters, sleaze, and trouble that provides the backdrop for the film, much of which is told in an extended flashback to happier times when Charlie was just a young punk from the slums of New York, where his family is barely scraping by running a corner candy store, where Charlie is a legend in the neighborhood, known for his quick hands, going against the wishes of his mother (Anne Revere, yes, actually related to Paul Revere) who tells him “That is no way to live, hitting people and knocking their teeth out.”  But his early success draws the attention of Quinn (William Conrad), a local fight promoter with dubious underworld connections, where the dark world of boxing is balanced by the charming innocence of the girl of his dreams, Peg (Lilli Palmer, with just a trace of her native German accent), who could care less about the fight game, but loves him for who he is.  The film won an Academy Award for Best Editing, as the early fight sequences streamed together, one after the other in quick succession, resemble newsreel documentary footage, spinning newspaper headlines, traveling in high speed locomotives from town to town, where his name continually rises from being at the bottom of the boxing posters until he’s one of the featured names on top.  Notoriety brings the opportunity for fame and fortune, where the lure of money and a chance to fight for the title leads him to Roberts, a mob-connected promoter who dictates the terms of each fight, where the money is too good to turn down.  When Peg sees who he’s dealing with, gangsters and hangers-on, and how they “take care” of Shorty (Joseph Pevney), Charlie’s longtime friend from the neighborhood who dies in an accident shortly after being roughed up, she leaves him with all the underworld undesirables, refusing to be part of that world.   

With Roberts, however, Charlie rakes in the dough, becoming noticeably more greedy and ruthless, where there’s plenty of money to spread around and he’s suddenly the king of the world, drawing the attention of opportunist lounge-singer Alice (Hazel Brooks), formerly Quinn’s girlfriend, who loves the finer things in life.  So long as Charlie provides the money train, she’ll play along, grabbing everything she can get, where Charlie’s too wrapped up in the bright lights to see the real picture.  The constant fights, however, and the high living take a toll on him, where a guy can’t fight forever, leading to one final championship fight, seen as the ultimate payday, where like Mildred Pierce (1945) the whole film is one long pre-fight flashback, where his entire life is flashing before his eyes.  For Charlie and his entourage, it’s all about money and success, as that’s the American Dream, but there’s an interesting scene that plays out in his mother’s kitchen, where a Jewish kid from the neighborhood is delivering his mother’s groceries, and when he sees Charlie, he can’t hold back how proud the whole neighborhood is of him, especially at a time when the Nazi’s are killing Jews in Europe.  Interestingly, this 20-second segment was often cut by distributors in the European prints, a practice revealed when the scene was missing from a DVD cut from a European print, but his brief little scene may be the most interesting sequence in the film, suggesting there has to be more to live for than just money, adding a human element that elevates the film.  The role of Charlie was based upon real life Jewish boxer Barney Ross, born Dov-Ber Rasofsky (also depicted in André de Toth’s 1957 film MONKEY ON MY BACK), a world champion in three weight divisions and a decorated World War II Marine veteran who fought back from drug addiction, who also came from a hard scrabble working class neighborhood where he ran around with local toughs.  A rabbi’s son, where his father was the owner of a small vegetable shop in Chicago's Maxwell Street neighborhood, Ross was idolized and respected by all Americans, but he openly embraced his role not only as a winner in the ring, but as a role model for Jews against the virulent anti-Jewish venom displayed by Hitler, displaying the strength and courage of fighting back.  Polonsky’s script includes the heroic view of how others see Charlie, but his view of himself is the larger question, especially when he’s ordered by Roberts to throw the fight.  This ethical dilemma has a staggering impact, beautifully set up by Charlie’s rise through the ranks, where he becomes spoiled by his success, showing arrogance and greed.  The fluid mobility of the fight sequences, especially the climactic fight, so beautifully shot by cinematographer James Wong Howe, was captured on rollerskates as he glided across the ring with a handheld camera, using eight different cameras in all, three on dollies, two handheld, and three on cranes hovering above, creating a dreamlike flurry of motion, where the screams of the audience and the constant flash of light bulbs from the photographers adds an astonishing level of gritty realism, where Garfield was knocked out and injured during the filming of one of his fight scenes, which is exactly what Martin Scorsese loved about the film when describing its impact on RAGING BULL (1980).  But it’s Garfield’s intense personal magnetism and his ability to express human decency, however tarnished, where ultimately he refuses to be humiliated and exploited, that elevate this film to lofty heights, as he paved the way for flawed human characters, including social misfits and outsiders, like Marlon Brando and James Dean, but also fellow New Yorkers Robert de Niro and Al Pacino.

The Trials of Muhammad Ali

THE TRIALS OF MUHAMMAD ALI            B+         
USA  (86 mi)  2013  d:  Bill Siegel             Official site

Once the most recognizable man on the planet, where he started out as a brash young man from Louisville, Kentucky who went on to win the Olympic Gold medal at age 18 as a light heavyweight in the 1960 Rome Olympics, returning to America vowing to become the heavyweight champion of the world by the time he was age 21.  Filled with a brimming confidence that reached levels of braggadocio and bravado, he vocally belittled his opponents while exclaiming the wonders of his many talents, which included quickness and speed in the ring, including superior hand speed and reflexes, where he had the ability to elude punches.  Nonetheless, his exclamatory behavior was deemed offensive by an older generation of sports writers, who preferred the calm demeanor of Joe Louis who let his fists do his talking.  Unlike any other fighter in recent memory, most of whom let their managers do the talking, the young Cassius Clay craved the spotlight and thrived on outlandish behavior with the press, becoming a provocateur whose theatrical outbursts drew interest to his fights, though he was repeatedly called a loudmouth by the press, who viewed him with condescension despite winning 19 straight fights, all of which led to his opportunity at age 22 to fight heavyweight champion Sonny Liston for the title, where he shocked the world by eluding Liston’s notorious punches and opening a cut under Liston’s left eye, the first time he’d ever been cut, and it was Liston who couldn’t answer the bell for Round 7, with Clay leaping into his trainer’s arms, already claiming he was “the greatest fighter that ever lived.”  But the following morning he was subdued, overly serious, and even reflective, as shortly afterwards, he converted to the Nation of Islam and rebuked what he called his white “slave name,” changing his name to Muhammad Ali. Even afterwards, many refused to recognize that name, insisting he was still Cassius Clay, though New York Times sports journalist Robert Lipsyte points out, “Nobody asked John Wayne or Rock Hudson what their names were.”  Co-director of the Oscar nominated documentary THE WEATHER UNDERGROUND (2002), this is an extremely well-edited film balancing vintage archival material with intelligent commentary.

Even this early in his career, it was telling how so few saw in him who he actually was, as the press continued to view him as just another boxer, yet he didn’t restrict his controversial comments to boxing, and spoke openly about racial prejudice while advocating black liberation, where his stature in the sport drew international attention and acclaim, not just due to his boxing crown, but his willingness to freely address social issues, coming up with quips like “I’m not no slave, I’m Muhammad Ali,” often antagonizing the white press, as well as many former boxing champions who were never allowed to be so outspoken, which would make headlines around the globe.  Also of interest, instead of visiting London, or Paris, or Rome afterwards, the cradle of European civilization, Ali would visit Islamist nations in the Middle East or Africa where he was embraced as a hero.  By the time he was drafted into the army to serve in the Vietnam war, he refused to serve, claiming religious convictions, “I ain’t got nothin’ against no Vietcong…My enemy is the white people, not the Vietcong …You’re my opposer when I want freedom.  You’re my opposer when I want justice.  You’re my opposer when I want equality.  You won’t even stand up for me in America because of my religious beliefs, and you want me to go somewhere and fight, when you won’t even stand up for my religious beliefs at home,” where he was stripped of his heavyweight title, barred from entering the ring and his passport revoked, and with it the adulation of many Americans, claiming he was a draft dodger.  Much of what this film attempts to unravel are these continual misperceptions about Ali, despised by some, revered by others, where among the best aesthetic choices made by the director are his choices of interviews which act as the film’s narrative, where we get Gordon Davidson, the only surviving member of the original consortium of 11 white Louisville businessmen that comprised the Louisville Contract Group who managed him for six years as Cassius Clay, claiming he was responsible and lived up to every term of his contract.  We learn first-hand accounts of Ali’s conversion to Islam from “Captain Sam” (Abdul Rahman Muhammad), who met him on the street in Miami, introduced him to Malcolm X and the Honorable Elijah Muhammad, eventually persuading him to convert.

Easily one of the film’s highlights are the candidly revealing comments from Ali’s second wife, the amusingly outspoken Khalilah Camacho-Ali, who found him too arrogant when she first met him, but later married him and stuck by his side, calling him a “good Muslim man” for refusing to serve in the military, for refusing to fight the “white man’s war,” which was one of the essential lessons of the Nation of Islam, where we hear the oratory of Malcolm X, “Don’t let the white man speak for you and don’t let the white man fight for you.”  Even the Honorable Elijah Muhammad himself spent four years in jail rather than serve in the military during World War II.  One of the clearest and most eloquent voices heard throughout is that of Salim Muwakkil, former editor of the Nation of Islam newspaper Muhammad Speaks, and a former editorialist of The Chicago Tribune, where he helps navigate us through the various splits within the Nation of Islam, including Malcolm X’s split from the Honorable Elijah Muhammad, and then the fallout from his assassination, with Ali continually siding with the Honorable Elijah Muhammad.  It was Khalilah Camacho-Ali, interestingly enough, according to the producers, that enlisted an interview with Nation of Islam Minister Louis Farrakhan, as they are neighbors on the same block, where Minister Farrakhan beams with pride when speaking about Ali, as he captivated the attention of the Islamic world abroad while representing himself here at home as a proud black man in America.  But the American public was enraged by his opposition to the Vietnam War, yet in choosing faith and the adherence of his own convictions over the potential millions he could have earned in his sport, this impressed Dr. Martin Luther King, where Ali’s courage under fire helped persuade him to also come out against the War in Vietnam.  There’s an intimate moment between the two when they realize they’ve been the targeted victims of an FBI wiretap, which was searching for evidence of sedition, as in the mid 60’s, free speaking black men were seen by the FBI as a threat to lead an overthrow of the government.  Hard as it is to fathom, this was the paranoid rationale of FBI Chief J. Edgar Hoover, who continually harassed, blackmailed, and wiretapped Dr. King.  There’s an even more poignant moment, however, when Rahaman Ali recalls what his older brother went through during this lengthy trial period awaiting vindication, when his name was dragged through the mud, subjected to all sorts of demeaning invective and brutally harsh judgment, where we see him called a fool, a pawn of Islam, a disgrace to his race and his country, anti-American, a draft dodger, and a traitor, a time when he could no longer support his family, where words fail him and emotions erupt before the camera. 

Ali’s trial remains a bone of contention, as many believe that anyone who refuses to fight for his country doesn’t deserve to fight in the ring, and some were adamant that Ali should serve time in jail, while others found his defiant actions heroic, where according to Dr. King, “Those who are seeking to equate dissent with disloyalty, those who are seeking to make it appear that anyone who opposes the war in Vietnam is a fool or a traitor or an enemy of our soldiers is a person that has taken a stand against the best in our tradition,” reflected in the black power salutes displayed by Olympic sprinters Tommie Smith and John Carlos in the 1968 Mexico City Olympics.  But after three and a half years in litigation, his case goes to the Supreme Court, where we hear the comments from Thomas Krattenmaker, clerk of Supreme Court Justice John Harlan, and realize the court itself was just as conflicted about the legal ramifications of Ali’s case, as they had allowed conscientious objector status from Jehovah’s Witnesses, but not members of the Nation of Islam.  So as not to open any swinging doors to all Muslims, they agreed to establish legal precedent for Ali alone, and granted him a unanimous victory.  This allowed Ali an opportunity to return to the ring, where his career transcended the sport, as his name became synonymous with perseverance and the courage of one’s convictions, where his innate personal charm has always created legions of adoring admirers.  Fifty years later, the fury that Ali faced from an outraged American public may only be matched by the outraged post 9/11 nation that continues to harbor fears and paranoia against people of Islamist faith.  Despite being rendered physically powerless by the effects of Parkinson’s Disease, Ali came out within 10 days to remind the American public that Islam is a religion of peace, not one that advocates war.  His voice was nearly lost to the drumbeats of war, but his own decision of conscience still reverberates with global implications today, as it’s often hard to measure the difference between freedom fighters, religious zealots, men of faith, and an appropriate use of the military.  As a boxer, Ali probably had the fastest hand and foot speed ever seen in a heavyweight, and was one of the first to control his own press conferences and interviews, transforming the role of both black athletes and a black populace in America by embracing racial pride, where in the words of writer Joyce Carol Oates, he was one of the few athletes in any sport to completely “define the terms of his public reputation.”  Again, according to Robert Lipsyte, “We created a symbol, and Muhammad Ali has long since been supplanted by what we believe he is.  There are so many ways of looking at him that have only to do with us and have nothing to do with him.”  Ali was presented with the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 2005.