Things were very intense in the 1950's. Parents didn't understand teenagers. You could get called "a wheel". Being outdoors after dark was reason enough to get you hauled in. There were very small reasons to rebel. Microscopic. I never did fully understand why all angst.
James Dean's character's dad loved him too much, dang it! He was trying to be his friend for heaven's sake. His mother was a nag and needed to be clocked "just once" according to her son. (Yeah, she and the grandmother were pretty annoying. I'll give him that.) His parents had differing opinions that were "TEARING ME APART!!!" But, don't all couples? They all seemed to love him fine and provide him with a nice car and wardrobe.
And, that Natalie Wood was such a drama queen! Her dad didn't think it was appropriate for her to be sitting in his lap and smooching on him anymore at her age, and she's an emotional wreck because of it. This treatment causes her to wander the streets at one a.m. unescorted. But, guess what, Natalie? You shouldn't be sitting on his lap! You're sixteen! He called you a tramp because you're running around town with a car load of greasers, dressed in red from head to toe. And, don't get me started on that lipstick! The devil's shade!
For being such an emotional crybaby at home, she sure rebounds quickly in her social life. Her boyfriend plummets to his death in a chickie fight and she's already running around, playing house, with James Dean by the end of that same night. Talk about a quick rebound! (And, he's the "yo-yo"?)
That gang. (I believe Natalie called them "The Kids".) For all the torment they throw Jim's way, Buzz admits to actually liking him. These upper-class rebels! Even when they like you, they can only get their kicks by stabbing you with switchblades and running you off of cliffs. Just your standard Friday night! I don't get it really.
Then, there's Plato. Poor Plato. I don't even have the strength...
The original trailer deems Rebel as, "Sensitive. So sensitive... Its performances will throb deep in your heart!" I don't quite think it's the sensitivity or heart-throbbing that keeps us coming back to this flick but, for some reason, all that belly-aching has stood the test of time.
My personal excuse is, of course, James Dean's handsomeness and natural charisma. I can't resist his casual toss off of, "I'm cute, too." right before the knife fight at the observatory. And, like all fifties movies, I like to watch the clothes. Boys wearing skinny ties to school. All the colorful tweeds and wools and A-line skirts. That red leather jacket that made its debut long before Michael Jackson's. And, of course, the overacting is always amusing a few generations later. (Makes me want to watch East of Eden again next, just for the scene of the drunken brother pulling away in the train car.)
There's no real moral to the story. I can pretty much bet that the writer had real daddy issues though. This movie simply opened the doors for teens to talk back to their parents and introduced greasers to new forms of chicken fighting. Or maybe, as the film poster suggests, it's a warning to America of the "drama of today's juvenile violence."
If there's anything I take from it (now knowing the chain of events that could follow) it's to never "Moo" in a darkened room and NEVER call James Dean "chicken"! He's a good kid, but he doesn't take kindly to it.
No comments:
Post a Comment