George Stevens: The American Character—Desire and Conscience
George Stevens, like John Ford, began his career making short films. In 1927, Stevens was making comedies with Laurel and Hardy. Although he began as a cinematographer, he began directing in 1930. He directed his last film, “The Only Game in Town,” in 1968. In between, he made important films in the genres of musical (“Swing Time,” 1936), situation comedy (“The More the Merrier,” 1943), action adventure (“Gunga Din,” 1939), Western (“Shane,” 1953), and melodrama (“A Place in the Sun,” 1951). Whether working on a modest scale (“Alice Adams,” 1935) or on a large canvas (“Giant,” 1956), Stevens’ work had an emotional power that has marked the work of important directors from D.W. Griffith to Istvan Szabo.
To understand his importance, we must examine Stevens’ director’s idea. George Stevens was interested in what I will call the American character, but he was not engaged with the poetic iconography of John Ford or the romanticized populist view of Frank Capra. Instead, Stevens seemed to be interested in a more complex view of the American character. Two opposing qualities stand out in Stevens’ work: the characteristic of desire and at the other extreme the characteristic of conscience. Desire and conscience might be embedded in different characters in a Stevens film, or they might be embedded in the same character. However he presented them, Stevens was able to look at the many aspects of the American character in all its contradictions—idealism versus self-interest, class versus classlessness, generosity versus greed. The result is considerable complexity and emotional credibility. Whatever genre Stevens worked in he was able to create a character arc and a dramatic arc that had an emotional synchronicity. The result was a series of films unique in American film for their mix of artistic and commercial ambition and success. The spirit of those impulses has been kept alive by Stevens’ son, George Stevens, Jr., who in 1968 established the American Film Institute. George Stevens, Jr., also made a fine documentary about his father’s work, “George Stevens: A Filmmaker’s Journey” (1985). A recent compilation of interviews with George Stevens is an invitation to revisit his work (see P. Cronin, Ed., George Stevens Interviews, University Press of Mississippi, 2004). In this chapter, we will focus on five excerpts from Stevens’ work that illustrate his director’s idea.
“Alice Adams” is based on the Booth Tarkington novel of an ambitious but poor young woman in the Midwest who aspires to be more. The film focuses on Alice’s (Katharine Hepburn) chance to move ahead. She meets a rich young man (played by Fred MacMurray) who is bored by his socialite opportunities. Alice and her family have tried unsuccessfully to be what they are not—part of the establishment. The excerpt I use here is the disastrous dinner when Alice introduces the young man to her family. It is the hottest day of the year, the food is heavy, and the behavior of the family members is worse. For Alice, this dinner is a nightmare come true.
“Gunga Din” (1939)
“Gunga Din” is an action–adventure set in 19th-century Northern India, where the British army is combating a Thuggee uprising. The film focuses on three sergeants, McChesney (Victor McLaghlan), Cutter (Cary Grant), and Ballantyne (Douglas Fairbanks, Jr.). The waterboy, Gunga Din (Sam Jaffe), wants to be a soldier. His transformation from waterboy to posthumous military hero gives the film its emotional arc. The excerpt that I will focus on is the Thuggee attack in Tantrapur. The three sergeants have led a patrol to Tantrapur to repair a broken telegraph line and find out what happened to the army contingent that had been located there. Instead, the patrol is attacked by the same force that destroyed the army contingent. The attack is the first time we see the three sergeants in action. They are confident and playful. The scene gives the action an almost comic or tongue-in-cheek tone. The skirmish is exciting and fun, a tone that the film sustains until the final act of the film.
“The More the Merrier” (1943)
“The More the Merrier” (1943) is a situation comedy set in Washington, D.C. during World War II. There is a housing shortage, and, doing her patriotic duty, Connie Mulligan (Jean Arthur) decides to sublet half of her apartment. Her ad draws many people but one of them, Benjamin Dingle (Charles Coburn), pretends to be the apartment’s proprietor and tells all the others to leave because the apartment has been rented. When Connie arrives home from work, Dingle presents himself and talks her into the rental. He is forceful and charming. Connie is not comfortable renting to a man, and the resulting clash of personalities only confirms her intuition about the arrangement. Dingle complicates the rental by subletting half of his half to Joe Carter (Joel McCrea). Life gets even more complicated as Joe and Connie fall in love. Dingle plays matchmaker by undermining Connie’s fiancé, a man who earns $8500 per year. Being a comedy, everything works out happily. The excerpt that I will focus on is the first morning after Dingle has moved in. Connie is very organized and has prepared a schedule for them to get ready for work. Both must shower, dress, and eat breakfast within 30 minutes. Dingle has trouble complying with the schedule, and the resulting clash of temperaments leads to a scene of classic comic timing and performance. The scene is directed almost as a silent comedy short.
“A Place in the Sun” (1951)
“A Place in the Sun” is a remake of Theodore Dreiser’s An American Tragedy. Set in upstate New York, the film tells the story of George Eastman (Montgomery Clift), an ambitious young man who travels east to accept the job offer of a rich uncle. He is given a job at the Eastman plant, first in the shipping area and later in a more managerial position. In shipping, he meets Alice (Shelley Winters) and begins a relationship with her, although he has been warned against having any relationships with the staff (which are mostly women). Later he meets the rich and beautiful Angela Vickers (Elizabeth Taylor) and begins a relationship with her. She is the woman of his dreams and represents moving up the social ladder, but there is a complication. Alice is pregnant and wants George to marry her. If he doesn’t, she will reveal all to the Eastmans and to Angela. George takes Alice on a trip, intending to drown her (she cannot swim), but he cannot bring himself to do it. Alice stands up in the boat, accidentally falls out, and drowns. The drowning is investigated, and George is charged with her murder. He is tried, and the film ends with his execution. George Eastman found the love of his life but lost it in the end. The excerpt I will focus on here is George’s first visit to the Eastman mansion. In this scene, George is offered a job but is barely tolerated by the Eastman family. Angela Vickers is introduced in this scene, but she does not acknowledge his existence. The scene is full of symbols of wealth and social class.
“Giant” tells the two-generation story of the relationship between Leslie Litton (Elizabeth Taylor) of Maryland and Jordan Benedict (Rock Hudson) of Texas. The story of their marriage, their life in Texas, and their disagreements about race and the role of women in society makes “Giant” more than a regional story. The differences between their two individual sets of values come to a head in the lives of their children. The more liberal Leslie succeeds in changing her husband from a man who sides with the prevailing social views about race into a man who will fight for the dignity of his half-Hispanic grandchild. The excerpt that I will focus on here is the funeral scene for Angel Obregon, a Hispanic Texan who has died in World War II and whose body has been returned to Texas for burial. The scene has special meaning because earlier in the film Leslie was able to get medical attention for the sick baby of one of the Hispanic workers on the Benedict ranch, Reatta. The baby whose life Leslie saved was Angel Obregon.
Text Interpretation
For George Stevens, it was critical that a main character be positioned to optimize the director’s idea. This means that desire has to resonate powerfully in his main character. Alice Adams wants to get ahead in a small town that has labeled her a “have not.” Whether this makes her a social climber or simply a person who is desperately ambitious (the American character) depends on the point of view. The upper class of the town views her as a social climber, but her parents see her as an unappreciated jewel of a person.
In “A Place in the Sun,” desire is embedded in George Eastman’s character. He wants a better life, and he wants the love of his life. Again, conscience resides in the upper crust (his own family) of the town. “Slow your advance or don’t join us,” speaks the actions or wishes of his rich relatives.
Stevens went to considerable lengths to have the audience identify with Alice Adams and George Eastman. Alice is exceedingly thoughtful and supportive of her father, a character with rough edges. Similarly, George Eastman is so rejected by his family that he seeks Alice’s company as a lonely man rather than as an opportunist looking for easy sex. Important here is the antagonist role of the rich peers and their families who reject Alice Adams and George Eastman.
In “Giant,” desire is very much present in the two main characters—Jordan Benedict and Jett Rink (James Dean). Jordan is rich and firmly entrenched in the power of his position and status. His desire is to maintain possession of that power. When Jordan’s sister wills the poor Jett land from the Benedict property, Jett grabs it, works it, and finally discovers oil on it. He becomes rich, very rich. In “Giant,” Stevens has presented these two representations of the American character less sympathetically. Theirs is an aggressive desire, an insatiable desire, and in the end a destructive desire. What saves Jordan is his wife, Leslie. Having no wife, Jett is damned by the outcome of his own desire. In “Giant,” Jordan’s wife represents conscience in the best sense of the word. Leslie stands up to the Texan men with regard to their attitudes about women and their attitudes toward their own Hispanic employees. The Benedicts’ marriages, family, and history are a story of desire plus conscience that points to a better future.
Desire takes on a different form in “Gunga Din.” Stevens frames desire within the boyish enthusiasm of Sergeant Cutter. Cutter is caught up in the promise of a treasure map. If he finds the treasure, he will be rich and could leave the army and have the life of an English gentleman at last. His colleague, Sergeant McChesney, sees his desire satisfied in the army. For him, the army means camaraderie rather than duty. His desire is to keep his army triumvirate (McChesney, Cutter, and Ballantyne) together. Ballantyne, on the other hand, is engaged and will shortly leave the army. His desire is the woman of his dreams (Joan Fontaine). All three men share a common attitude toward their friendships and their work. They are physical and capable combatants; theirs is the adolescent pursuit of war games. It is not violence; it is energetic fun. So, another desire they are pursuing in this film is the adolescent pleasure of being together.
Conscience is presented in the character of Sergeant Cutter. He is the only character who takes an interest in the waterboy, Gunga Din. Initially, the contact is to imitate soldierly practices such as marching with Gunga Din. Next he enlists Din in his search for the treasure. When they stumble upon the Thuggee temple (which is the source of the diamonds), he sends Din to alert Sergeants McChesney and Ballantyne to come to his rescue. When all four men are captured by the Thuggees, the wounded Cutter enlists Din to warn the approaching army columns about the Thuggee trap that awaits them. Din dies blowing his bugle in warning. Cutter’s sense of conscience made him include the low-caste Gunga Din in his army. Notable is that the other two sergeants are indifferent to or dismissive of Din.
In “Gunga Din,” Stevens focused on an adolescent presentation of the American character. In “The More the Merrier” he focuses on an older but no less youthful version of that character. Benjamin Dingle represents the American character in all of its enterprising nature. As Dingle puts it often, “Full steam ahead!” Dingle’s desire is to get what he wants when he wants it. In “The More the Merrier,” the Dingle character lies readily and is constantly manipulating someone in order to get what he wants. He is an energetic transgressor whose age belies his methodology. Instead of being a sage or a wise old man, Dingle could be considered an older version of Sergeant Cutter from “Gunga Din.” He is all desire but he lacks Cutter’s conscience. In “The More the Merrier,” as in “Giant,” conscience is represented by a woman. In “The More the Merrier,” the woman is Connie Mulligan, but she is too rational and too wrapped up in doing the rational thing. Stevens pokes fun at the conscience for its overdeveloped view. It is as if in this comedy Stevens is saying that transgression can go a long way in bureaucratic wartime Washington, a place in need of Dingle’s particular style of organizational skills. Stevens embraced Dingle’s enterprising nature, regardless of its rough edges, and suggested that we need the Dingles of the world to help the other characters deal with matters of war and love.
Directing the Actors
In directing actors Stevens relied far less on casting his actors than he did on capitalizing on the strengths of his actors and seeking compensatory strategies to minimize their weaknesses (see comments on his work with Jean Arthur in Cronin’s George Stevens Interviews). Coming as he did from a family of actors, Stevens was both comfortable and confident with actors. Stevens had a number of expectations regarding the performances in his films. He expected above all an emotional realism in the performances, and he understood that emotional realism could come from orchestrating the performances around the main character, somewhat akin to developing a better understanding of a person by meeting his family. Looking at Alice Adams, for example, she is energetic but nervous about her station in life, and certainly she deserves better. Looking at her family, we can see that Alice’s mother is ambitious to the point of desperation. She badgers her husband constantly to do better. The father, on the other hand, is so beaten down by the pressures of his wife that he is in his pajamas, either sick or in retreat, for half of the film. Alice’s brother is her opposite; he accepts and revels in his low class and caste. Alice and her mother, father, and brother create an emotional realism that is readily recognizable. We see the same qualities in George Eastman’s surviving mother in “A Place in the Sun” and the families in “Giant.”
The second quality Stevens cultivates in his main characters is a depth of desire that is understandable and sympathetic. We do understand George Eastman’s desire to advance. He does not want the circumscribed life of his mother and father. He wants more from life. So, too, does Sergeant Cutter in “Gunga Din.” As does Alice Adams. As does Connie Mulligan.
Creating further sympathy for these characters are the antagonists. For Alice Adams and George Eastman, their antagonist is the snobbery of society. For Sergeant Cutter, it is the British class system. The desires of the main characters are made more understandable because all of these characters are victims of social values that have protected the power structure in society and penalized the “have nots” (our main characters).
Finally, Stevens has an exceptional sense of the character arc. In his films, his characters are tested by the plot and opposing characters, and they change; they are transformed. George Eastman is penalized by society for his desire in “A Place in the Sun.” Jordan Benedict is changed from a racist Texan to a defender of differences in race in “Giant.” This transformation is due to the continual pressure of his wife, Leslie, and the birth of a child to Jordie, his son, and his Hispanic wife. Connie Mulligan is transformed from a lonely, rational woman to a loved and loving woman in “The More the Merrier.” Here, Benjamin Dingle (and his enterprising sensibility) is the catalyst. In his direction of actors, Stevens makes certain that this transformation is not only credible but also emotionally gratifying for his audience.
Directing the Camera
Filmmakers who are great directors are of two types: (1) the director who favors set pieces, such as Alfred Hitchcock, David Lean, and Steven Spielberg; and (2) directors who focus on the emotional arc of the film. These latter directors include Max Ophuls, Luchino Visconti, and George Stevens. Stevens is particularly impressive with regard to how he created shots for scenes and how those shots were edited. In the end, he was subtle but very effective in his directing of the camera.
To explore his director’s idea we begin with an examination of Stevens’ work in “A Place in the Sun,” where camera placement and art direction operate with considerable force. The set is the Eastman mansion. The camera is placed deep inside the house. In the far background is the door through which George Eastman enters his uncle’s home. Doric columns define the middle of the frame and add even greater scale to the house. Charles Eastman and his family are seated and observing George’s entry. He walks toward the camera, and it seems to be a very long walk. His uncle offers George a seat. The camera is now positioned not too close to the couch occupied by Charles Eastman’s wife and daughter. George sits on a chair in the middle ground. The camera is far from the Eastmans and even farther from George. In this shot, we are not close to any party. The distance between the Eastmans and George is physical but it is also social. The conversation is not an easy one. Again we are very aware of the separation between these family members. The entire sequence to this point has been shot in long and medium shots, again distancing the characters.
Angela Vickers enters as George did earlier. Stevens cuts to a close-up of George as he turns to look at Angela, then a close-up of Angela as she stops near George but speaks to his family. Notable is the fact that she does not even look at George. The attention and energy in the room are now focused on Angela. The young Eastman son, a contemporary of George, rushes over to Angela and offers her date a drink (but nothing for George). Angela leaves quickly, as do some of the Eastmans, all but abandoning George. When George leaves, he assures Charles Eastman that he will be happy to accept the job opportunity offered him. In this scene, the art direction sets up the objects of George Eastman’s desire—a home like his uncle’s, a life that includes someone like Angela Vickers. The placement of the camera suggests the difference between him and his uncle’s family. The camera does not portray George as a victim, but it strongly implies that these people are not going to make it easy for him to fulfill his desires.
To the issue of camera placement Stevens added pace in the Thuggee attack on the village of Tantrapur in “Gunga Din.” The focus is on creating suspense that culminates in a 12-minute action sequence. The tone of the sequence is very much in keeping with that of the film—energetic adventure. In order to create suspense, the camera initially follows Sergeant Ballantyne as he searches the seemingly empty village. The camera shifts from long shots that establish the emptiness against the backdrop of mountains towering in the background to a subjective moving mid shot of the sergeant, as if the camera is creeping up on him. Finally it stops in close-up. Ballantyne turns his head. He sees one of his soldiers standing guard atop a building. As he turns back to the mountains, the same cutaway of the guard reveals a Thuggee strangling the guard. Stevens then cuts to a shot with Sergeant Cutter in the foreground. Deep in the background, slightly out of focus, we see another guard being strangled by a Thuggee. The threat is established.
When Sergeant Ballantyne enters a building dark from its sheltered windows he discovers a group of Thuggee pilgrims. He forces them out of the room and a fight ensues. Sergeants McChesney and Cutter come to his rescue, and they handily regain the upper hand. At this point, no guns have been fired; only fisticuffs are necessary. But then the leader of the group invokes Kaali, and from the mountains a flood of Thuggees on horseback launches a full-scale attack.
The attack that will lead to the rooftop escape of the three sergeants is marked by particular details, including the sergeants’ retreat to a gated compound and their ascent to its roof to escape the attack. This sequence is fast paced and interspersed with humorous details. In leaping from one roof to another, Sergeant Ballantyne crashes through the roof and one of his feet becomes stuck. Sergeant Cutter’s efforts to save Ballantyne include a back and forth toss of a stick of dynamite, first from Cutter, back via the Thuggees landing adjacent to Ballantyne, and then back via Cutter to explode near the Thuggees. The humor assures us that our outnumbered heroes are in no danger. In this sequence Gunga Din reintroduces his desire to be a soldier. He has a weapon and wants to use it, but Sergeant McChesney takes it away. This kind of dramatic detail keeps the longer-term narrative strand at the forefront for the audience.
The sequence is very physical and marked by the confident prowess of the three sergeants. Stevens sustains the energetic tone through the use of detail and a lively pace. The sequence is clear from a narrative point of view and stimulating from a visual point of view. The location shooting of the film yielded considerable visual and narrative benefits. This sequence became the benchmark for later films and filmmakers in this genre, particularly the “Indiana Jones” series made by George Lucas and Steven Spielberg.
Pace and timing with differing intentions characterize the excerpts from “Alice Adams” and “The More the Merrier.” Stevens began his directing career working on two reelers with comedians, primarily Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy. Creating comedy based on farce and comedy based on tragedy (strong emotional responses involving tears and laughter) were goals in this early work. These are the very qualities we see in “Alice Adams” and “The More the Merrier.” The key here is to be as specific as possible to make the sequence plausible.
In “Alice Adams,” the dinner scene should be the culmination of Alice’s hopes and dreams. She is having Arthur—rich, handsome Arthur—over to her house for dinner. It is the first time he will meet her family, and it is her first reality check. Dinner is a disaster, Alice’s worst nightmare. Making this long (10-minute) sequence both emotional and funny was the challenge for Stevens.
Let’s first address the specifics on which Stevens relied. A meal progresses through its various courses (e.g., appetizer, soup, salad, entrée, dessert). The key here is that each course of Alice’s important dinner is inappropriate. The appetizers, caviar on crackers, are untested and a pretense in a household aspiring to present itself as something it is not. The rest of the courses are very spicy and heavy and thoroughly inappropriate for the hottest day of the year. Stevens is also specific in the conflicting roles each participant plays. Mother is thrilled Arthur has come for dinner. For her, it is a triumph and she acts accordingly. Father is uncomfortable in his tuxedo and does not consider dinner to be a social occasion. Alice is nervous that all will fall apart. Arthur remains silent, having heard before attending this dinner that Alice’s father is a thief (who stole a manufacturing process from his former employer, Mr. Lamm, another font of wealth in this small town). And the maid who serves the food is indifferent to the competing interests at the table; for her, tonight is just a job.
Specific details beyond the food courses and the emotional state of the participants include Arthur sweating profusely from the food and the temperature, Mr. Adams’ failure to present himself as a convincing success (the buttons on his tuxedo shirt pop and his shirt opens to reveal his bare chest), and the maid’s failing uniform and her growing impatience with the pretensions of her employers. All these details are presented in close-up. To present the emotional arc of the scene (growing disaster) Stevens relied on Alice to be the barometer. He used Walter, Alice’s brother, to bring the sense of disaster to a peak. Near the end of the meal, Walter enters and invites his father into the parlor, where an argument ensues. Alice’s mother exits, leaving Alice and Arthur as the last “pretenders” in the dining room. Stevens used food to introduce humor into the scene—Mr. Adams’ attempts to eat and enjoy the food and the efforts of the maid to serve the food. The humor contrasts with Alice’s rising sense of disaster and humiliation about the meal and the evening and serves to create an intense arc of feeling as well as entertainment for the scene. Stevens paced the scene to follow that arc.
In “The More the Merrier,” Stevens played the morning scene more for humor than tragedy. The 10-minute scene follows the efforts of Benjamin Dingle to meet the morning scheduling expectations of his landlady, Connie Mulligan. In 30 minutes, each must get ready for work, including washing, dressing, and eating. Dingle is a total failure in his effort to meet the schedule, and this is the source of humor in the sequence. Connie is the set-up (Oliver Hardy) to Dingle’s Stan Laurel.
Again, the sequence is clear and progresses naturally. The first shot is a close-up of an alarm clock—it is 7:00 a.m. Retrieving the milk from outside the door and later the newspaper, making the coffee, showering, dressing, and eating are all specifics of the scene, and each character operates within the specifics of his or her purpose. Connie is the straight man who must keep reminding Dingle of the schedule. Dingle’s constant failure to stick with the schedule is increasingly exasperating for him. His failures are also the sources of humor in the scene. When Connie reminds him of the milk, he goes outside to get it and is promptly locked out of the apartment. When she reminds him of the paper, he goes outside and again is locked out. When she reminds him to shower, he goes into the bathroom but forgets he is holding the coffee when he starts to undress. He loses the coffee in the tub. When she asks for coffee, he has very little but pours it into her cup anyway. The sequence ends with her leaving at 7:30, offering him a lift that he cannot accept because he has been unable to get dressed, as he misplaced his pants when she told him to make the bed. The contrast between these two characters could not be greater. The specific details of the scene and the performance and pace of the scene make it an amusing condemnation of efficiency. Dingle, although enterprising, is all too human, as this scene so humorously points out.
The last excerpt we will focus on is Angel Obregon’s return home in “Giant.” Angel is a Hispanic–American hero who has come home for burial. His father is an employee of Jordan Benedict, and when he was an infant Angel’s life was saved by Leslie Benedict, who cared about the well-being of Reatta’s Hispanic employees and their families.
The sequence unfolds slowly, formally. A train at dawn leaves its cargo at the station. As the train pulls away, the camera cuts to the flag-draped casket on a trolley. A family stands by its side. Soldiers approach to wheel the casket to its final destination. More of the population of Benedict stands in respect to Angel. Stevens cuts to a small boy playing in the foreground who is bored. He represents a future Angel. Jordan and Leslie bring a Texas flag to commemorate the baby Leslie saved. We cut to the funeral. Here the shots are formal—the casket awaiting being lowered into the ground; the family and friends behind and to the side; the military honor guard, principally Hispanic. The U.S. flag is folded and given to Angel’s mother. Father and grandfather stand by proud but crushed by the burden of the loss. Jordan offers the Texas flag to Angel’s mother. The coffin is lowered. The young boy continues to play in the foreground—he is the future and is totally disconnected from the burial and the meaning of the loss. The scene unfolds slowly in long and medium shots. The pace is slow and respectful, the light of dawn filled with reflection and possibility. The inclusion of the young boy makes the scene about the past and the future in America. Very little sound is used in the scene, making it all the more soulful.
George Stevens may be the perfect director. Where he puts the camera, his sense of pace, shot selection, and inclusion makes this sequence overwhelming. As I have stated, Stevens’ director’s idea was a particular take on the American character. He focused on two aspects—desire and conscience. At times these qualities are embedded in the same character, but in films such as “A Place in the Sun,” “Alice Adams,” and “Giant,” these qualities are embedded in different characters. Stevens’ ease with actors and with the camera and his willingness to shoot much footage to explore the editing options that could capture his vision allowed him to achieve an unusually effective articulation of his directors’ idea. Indeed, he brought together a blend of commercial and artistic acuity never again replicated in American film. Stevens’ work represents a high mark for American directing that remains as vivid today as it was in its own time.