As a playwright, Tennessee Williams was to the South what William Faulkner was as a fiction writer: a creative genius who revolutionized not only the region’s arts scene and literature but that of 20th century America as a whole, bringing a Southern voice to the forefront while addressing universally important themes, and influencing and inspiring generations of later writers.
Pulitzer-Prize-winning “A Streetcar Named Desire” dates from the peak of Williams‘s creativity, the period between 1944 (A Glass Menagerie) and 1955 (Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, his second Pulitzer-winner). After its successful 1947 run on Broadway, Streetcar was adapted into a screenplay by Williams himself for this movie produced and directed by Elia Kazan, starring the entire Broadway cast except Jessica Tandy, who was replaced by the star of the play’s London production, Vivien Leigh. The piece takes its title from one of the New Orleans streetcar lines that protagonist Blanche DuBois (Leigh) rides on her way to the apartment of her sister Stella (Kim Hunter), foreshadowing her later path, from (ever-unfulfilled) Desire to Cemetery (death, or the loss of reality) and a street called Elysian Fields, like the ancient mythological land of the dead.
Although Blanche is the person most visibly engaging in deception (of herself and others), almost everyone of the characters suffers loss after a brutal reality check: Stella, who hasn’t been back home for years, first learns from Blanche that their genteel home Belle Reve (literally: “beautiful dream”) is “lost” – although in what manner precisely Blanche doesn’t specify, which immediately raises the suspicion of Stella’s husband Stanley (Marlon Brando) – only to later hear from Stanley that under the veneer of Blanche’s appearance as a delicate Southern lady lies a promiscuous past, and the true circumstances of her ouster from her job and ultimately from their home town were not as Blanche would have Stella believe. Stanley’s friend Mitch (Karl Malden), who despite their disparate social backgrounds intends to marry Blanche after they are drawn to each other by their mutual need for “somebody” in their life, is similarly disillusioned by Stanley, and subsequently by Blanche herself when he insists on seeing her in bright light instead of the dim light of dancehalls and of the paper lamp she has insisted on hanging over Stella and Stanley’s living room lamp, neither able to face the effects of age and a profligate lifestyle herself nor willing to reveal them to others. And Blanche’s own loss of innocence, finally, set in years earlier, when she found her young husband in bed with another man and he committed suicide after she publicly reproached him. “Nobody sees anybody truly but all through the flaws of their own egos. That is the way we all see each other in life,” Tennessee Williams says about A Streetcar Named Desire in Kazan’s 1988 autobiography A Life; and in a letter opposing the movie’s censoring before its release he described the story as being about “ravishment of the tender, the sensitive, the delicate, by the savage and brutal forces of modern society.”
The brute, of course, is Stanley, who not only becomes the catalyst of Blanche’s fate and the destroyer of Stella’s, Mitch’s and Blanche’s own illusions, but is her antagonist in everything from background to personality: Where she is a fading belle dreaming of days gone by he is all youthful virility, a working-class man living in the here and now; where she is refined he is crude, and where she engages in pretense, he tears down the facade behind which she is hiding. The conversation during which Stanley tells Stella about Blanche’s past is pointedly set against Blanche’s humming the Arlen/Harburg tune It’s Only a Paper Moon, which sees love transforming life into a fantasy world, which in turn however “wouldn’t be make-believe if you believed in me.” Yet, as portrayed by Marlon Brando, who with this movie stormed into public awareness with his unique and volcanic approach to acting, Stanley is no mere vulgar beast but a complex, often controversial character, despite his brutal streak almost childishly dependant on his wife and frequently hiding his own insecurities under his raw appearance (thus putting up a certain front as well, but unlike Blanche’s, a socially acceptable, even common one). Ever the method actor, Brando reportedly stayed in character even during filming breaks; much to the disgust of Vivien Leigh, for whom lines like “[h]e’s like an animal. … Thousands of years have passed him right by and there he is: Stanley Kowalski, survivor of the stone-age, bearing the raw meat home from the kill in the jungle” must consequently have come from the bottom of her heart.
In early 1950s’ society, Streetcar was considered way too risqué – even downright sordid – to be presented to moviegoing audiences without severe censorship, which Williams and Kazan were only partly able to fight. One of the most substantial changes made in the adaptation was that at the end of the movie Stanley is punished for his brutality towards Blanche, whereas in the play’s cynical original ending he is the only character experiencing no loss at all; indeed seeing his world restored after Blanche’s exit. Since Kazan’s suggestion to produce two alternate versions (one to please the censors, one in conformity with Williams‘s play) was rejected, even the 1993 “Original Director’s Version” retains its altered, censorship-induced ending. Therefore, the play will forever constitute the last word on Williams‘s own intentions. But even in its censored version this movie was a deserved quadruple Oscar- and multiple other award-winner (albeit undeservedly not for Brando). It has long-since become a true classic: a cinematic gem of first-rate direction and superlative performances throughout.
And so it was I entered the broken world
To trace the visionary company of love, its voice
An instant in the wind (I know not whither hurled)
But not for long to hold each desperate choice.
Hart Crane, “The Broken Tower”
(Preface to the published edition of Tennessee Williams’s play.)
Production Credits /
Cast and Crew
- Studio: Warner Brothers (1951)
- Director: Elia Kazan
- Producer: Charles K. Feldman
- Screenplay: Tennessee Williams
- Based on a play by: Tennessee Williams
- Adaptation: Oscar Saul
- Music: Alex North
- Cinematography / Director of Photography: Harry Stradling
- Art Direction: Richard Day / Bertram Tuttle (supervising art director, uncredited)
- Set Decoration: George James Hopkins
- Vivien Leigh: Blanche
- Marlon Brando: Stanley
- Kim Hunter: Stella
- Karl Malden: Mitch
- Richard Garrick: A Doctor
- Ann Dere: The Matron
Major Awards and Honors
Academy Awards (1952)
- Best Actress in a Leading Role: Vivien Leigh
Vivien Leigh was not present at the awards ceremony. Greer Garson accepted on her behalf.
- Best Actor in a Supporting Role: Karl Malden
- Best Actress in a Supporting Role: Kim Hunter
Kim Hunter was not present at the awards ceremony. Bette Davis accepted on her behalf.
- Best Art Direction-Set Decoration, Black-and-White: Richard Day and George James Hopkins
American Film Institute:
- Top 100 American Films – No. 45
- Top 100 Love Stories – No. 67
- Top 25 Stars (male) – No. 4 (Marlon Brando)
- Top 25 Stars (female) – No. 16 (Vivien Leigh)
- Top 25 Film Scores – No. 19
- Top 100 Movie Quotes – 45th: “Stella! Hey, Stella!” (Stanley Kowalski)
- Top 100 Movie Quotes – 75th: “I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.” (Blanche DuBois)
Golden Globes (1952)
- Best Supporting Actress: Kim Hunter
BAFTA Awards (1953)
- Best British Actress: Vivien Leigh
Venice Film Festival (Italy) (1951)
- Special Jury Prize: Elia Kazan
For having produced a stage play on screen, poetically interpreting the humanity of the characters, thanks to masterly direction.
- Volpi Cup Best Actress: Vivien Leigh
- A Streetcar Named Desire at the Internet Movie Database (IMDb)
- A Streetcar Named Desire at the TCM Movie Database
- The Tennessee Williams Annual Review
- Tennessee Williams on the The Mississippi Writers Page (University of Mississippi)
- Tennessee Williams’s interview with the Paris Review (The Art of Theater, No. 5)
- Tennessee Williams’s biography at the Kirjasto Authors’ Calendar