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Home , A Hatful of Rain, Don Murray (actor), From Hell to Texas, Henry Silva, The Sons of Katie Elder

DON MURRAY A WEEKEND TRIBUTE

PART ONE—UNSUNG HERO Saturday August 6 Lobero Theatre

ADVISE & CONSENT (1962) 2:30pm (post-film interview with Don Murray by Foster Hirsch)

SPECIAL RECEPTION WITH DON MURRAY AND In the Lobero Courtyard 6:00pm Special admission required—food and drink provided

A HATFUL OF RAIN (1957) 7:30pm (post-film interview with Don Murray and Eva Marie Saint by Foster Hirsch)

PART TWO—DEADLY HERO Sunday August 7 Center Stage Theater

Matinee show THE OUTCASTS “The Long Ride” (ABC-TV, originally aired April 28, 1969) 1:00pm

FROM HELL TO (1958) 2:00pm (Between films interview with Don Murray)

DEADLY HERO (1976) 4:15pm

Evening show BUS STOP (1956) Don Murray’s Oscar-nominated role 7:00pm …featuring an actress you may have heard of---!

(Between films interview with Don Murray by Foster Hirsch)

BREATHE (2007) 9:15pm

For more information about the screenings, and a compendium of interesting and useful Internet links about Don Murray, please visit the Mid-Century Productions web site at www.midcenturyproductions.com.

DON MURRAY—A WEEKEND TRIBUTE

THE FILMS

Saturday, August 6

ADVISE & CONSENT (1962) 2:30pm

Featuring an All-Star cast remarkable even for an picture, Advise & Consent is both a fascinating time capsule look at the state of the American political system in the early and a timely reminder of the high stakes that continue to exist in the public arena.

Don Murray gives what many feel is his finest performance as Senator Brigham (Brig) Anderson, an idealist who finds himself under attack from all sides during a controversial approval hearing for a prospective appointee for Secretary of State (played with characteristic steely detachment by ). Certain revelations about Brig Anderson’s past—in particular, a youthful homosexual encounter—are surfaced, and they overwhelm the young Senator as he tries to do “the greater good” amongst a nest of Washington vipers.

Joining Don Murray in this vast, wide-ranging drama are Henry Fonda, , Walter Pidgeon, George Grizzard, , Franchot Tone, Lew Ayres, , and Inga Swenson (particularly affecting in her role as Mrs. Brig Anderson).

Advise & Consent was based on the 1959 best-selling novel by .

Directed and produced by Otto Preminger. Running time: 138 minutes, black & white, Cinemascope. Presented in 35mm.

A HATFUL OF RAIN (1957) 7:30pm

A powerful ensemble drama based on a then-groundbreaking play, A Hatful of Rain features three “Method”-trained actors polishing their performances to a sheen. Don Murray, so boisterous the year before in Bus Stop, turns inward in portraying Johnny Pope, whose heroism in Korea has come at a terrible price: he is now addicted to the morphine he was given in the military hospitals.

His brother Polo (played with barely restrained frenzy by , who was nominated for an Oscar for this performance) loans him money to buy drugs and helps him keep his addiction a secret from his wife Celia (Eva Marie Saint). But the money runs out, and the two brothers face a double dilemma when the drug dealers (led by the great cult character actor , as a pusher named “Mother”) come around to collect—and when their father (Lloyd Nolan) comes to town looking for the money that Polo had promised to give him so that he could start a new business.

Eva Marie Saint is the “glue” in the film, playing Celia as a young woman eager to have a full-bodied marriage but driven to confusion and anxiety by her husband’s increasingly odd, uncharacteristic behavior. Her performance is filled with superb nuance and a beautifully modulated character arc, as Celia grows from a shy and diffident girl into a woman who can face the facts of life and play the cards dealt to her.

A powerful and memorable film that has slipped through the cracks in recent years, now ripe for rediscovery.

A Hatful of Rain, written by Michael Gazzo, opened on Broadway November 9, 1955 with in the role played by Don Murray in the film. played Celia; Anthony Franciosa played Polo; Henry Silva played “Mother.” It ran for 398 performances.

Directed by . Running time: 100 minutes, black & white, Cinemascope. Presented in 35mm.

Sunday, August 7 MATINEE PROGRAM

THE OUTCASTS “The Long Ride” (1969) 1:00pm

The word “groundbreaking” is often over-used when describing artistic endeavors, but there is no place where the term is more justly applied than with The Outcasts, the first weekly network series with interracial lead characters. Don Murray, when approached by ABC-TV, specifically chose this series, set in the “Wild West” in 1869, as a vehicle to explore the social changes that occurred in America as a result of the Civil War, feeling that the story of race relations was highly relevant to what was occurring in America a century later. He also wanted to promote a multi- dimensional, self-sufficient role model for African-American boys who in the late sixties were mostly without heroes to call their own.

Don Murray and Otis Young play bounty hunters who have been thrust together under unusual and less-than-ideal circumstances. Don’s character, Earl Corey, was once a Southern aristocrat, a plantation owner who lost his land and his position due to dirty dealings while he was serving in the Confederate Army. Otis Young, a virtual unknown at the time of his being cast in The Outcasts, plays Jemal David—who just happens to be one of the ex-slaves who was once owned by the Corey family!

The interactions between these two are, as you might expect, less than cordial and more strained thhan not. Over time, however, a grudging respect develops between them, though the quick-tempered Jemal is especially sensitive to Earl’s race-baiting remarks. (Warning: this is NOT a show that is “politically correct”! After watching this episode, you might wonder how it got on TV at all—which is exactly the point.)

Our episode, “The Long Ride,” is especially good in depicting the complex, shifting ground between the two men as they make their way through the anarchy of the Old West. Earl and Jemal have been “on the outs” for awhile, but they team up to take a particularly nasty, manipulative prisoner to justice. Things don’t turn out the way they—or we—expect.

After viewing this episode, you just might agree that The Outcasts deserves to be seen again as one of those pivotal but forgotten moments in television history. Sign our petition to have The Outcasts released on DVD!

Directed by Emmy-winner Robert Butler. Running time: 50 minutes. Presented via digital reproduction.

FROM HELL TO TEXAS (1958) 2:00pm

From Jeff Arnold’s review:

“ made only one great Western. It was, of course, True Grit (Paramount, 1969). But he made several very good ones: , and, in particular, .

In fact Hathaway was something of a specialist in the genre. He started as a child actor in Westerns and the first films he directed were all cowboy movies.

Why the film is titled From Hell to Texas is difficult to fathom, as Texas doesn’t come into it. It’s set in New Mexico, between Santa Fe and Soccoro (or Socorrer, as they all call it), well over 300 miles from the nearest bit of Texas. Never mind.

It’s a ‘small’ film, by which I mean it has a modest cast and has a confined plot (Robert Buckner and Wendell Mayes wrote the screenplay from a Charles O. Locke novel) about few people. It is also an economical story with a spare, hard plot. It could have been by Luke Short (it’s that good). It is also extremely well directed and finely acted. Johnny Ehrin also edited tightly and effectively.

The acting is top notch. You wouldn’t automatically put Don Murray in the highest league of Western actors. Up till then he had been a TV and B-movie character actor. He was later Hickok in The Plainsman and he and played second to in One Foot in Hell (he seemed to like Hell, at least in his westerns). Here, he is very good. He underplays and succeeds in projecting in a convincing way as a young, rather naive but still courageous loner.

R.G. Armstrong, always good, is here very fine. Apart from his curious double gunbelt, which makes him look like Hopalong Cassidy having strayed onto the set of The Wild Bunch, he is severe, single-minded and hard as nails—but when it comes down to it, just. (Savor the final exchange between Armstrong and Murray—two excellent actors bringing their A-stuff.)

This might be R.G.’s finest role, though it would be difficult to better his Bob Ollinger in Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid. , aged 22, plays R.G.’s youngest son, in only his sixth movie. Jay C. Flippen is excellent as the salty Indian trader Leffertfinger. But the best of the supporting cast is certainly Chill Wills as the rancher Amos Bradley who befriends Don and whose tomboy daughter Nita (, not bad) will fall for Don (and, eventually, vice versa). Harry Carey, Jr. has a smallish part too. So high class acting all round.

According to the Internet Movie Database, the filming locations for this film were different from those of True Grit and the Alabama Hills up at Lone Pine are mentioned. Yet the scenery looked a lot like the terrain Hopper covered a decade later for Hathaway, when he came up against Rooster Cogburn in that cabin on the river. And several bits looked very much like to me.

Wherever they are, the locations are splendid. I’m especially impressed with the Wilfrid (or Wilfred, he seemed to alternate) Cline photography: his use of widescreen is expert, and some of the scenes—those at night, and those with the long shadows of dusk or early morning—are spectacularly beautiful.”

From Hell To Texas has yet to be released on DVD in America. Fortunately, there is a recent German DVD of it (who knew that the Germans were so besotted with the Old West??) and this is what we will be screening.

This was R.G. Armstrong’s first significant motion picture role at the age of forty-one, and he would make over 200 appearances in film and television over the next forty years.

Directed by Henry Hathaway. Running time: 100 minutes, color, Cinemascope. Presented via digital reproduction.

DEADLY HERO (1976) 4:15 pm

Here are Don Murray’s reminiscences about Deadly Hero:

“George Wislocki, the author of Deadly Hero, confronts the audience with screen characters as we would encounter them in real life. If threatened by a violent extortionist, we wouldn’t know anything about his life circumstance—how he was brought up, or what kind of abuse he’s suffered in the past. All we know is that, right now, we are being threatened and abused. And if we’re faced with an implacable, merciless policeman, we don’t know what brutal criminality he’s had to deal with that has made him so vengeful: we just want to escape his vengeance. And such an escape might well prove to be a matter of life and death.

Producer Thomas McGrath was instrumental in helping Wislocki shape a ‘movie life’ true to the life we live by refusing to elicit sympathy for either cop or criminal. They accomplish this by not immersing us in their lives outside the drama that their actions and reactions have brought to bear. If there is a political or social treatise to be found in the film, it is one invented by the audience.

This objective reality makes the story being told here more disturbing than if George had tried to elicit an emotional or intellectual response by showing anything other than what we would see in real life. He gives our thoughts and feelings more freedom by such an approach, but less comfort. It’s up to us to define motivations, draw conclusions, and perhaps arrive at a rationale that, because we live the way we do and not as they do, we wouldn’t have become abuser or abused as they had.

Director Ivan Nagy augments the author’s approach by the avoidance of clichés. The “mean streets” of aren’t always violent; there are benign bicycles as well as careening police cars; and the people of the “hood” are often as playful as they are threatening. Instead of contrasting the nature of the cellist victim with that of the criminal by placing her in a classical orchestra or string quartet, Nagy and Wislocki make her a director of a wild, post-bohemian avant-garde musical, where a criminal might seem less estranged.

BEFORE meeting Nagy, I’d approached the blacklisted director Jules Dassin, who’d made the gritty, real-life noirs Brute Force (1947) and Naked City (1948). But his proposal for Deadly Hero was to make it a political polemic of a “have and have not” society rather than an exposition of the lives of disparate individuals, so the idea of Dassin directing was ultimately abandoned in favor of the more individualistic approach of Nagy.

McGrath, Nagy and I concurred in the choice of Andrzej Bartkowiak to make his feature film debut with us. While classic film noir gained a great deal of expressivity from black-and-white-cinematography, we felt that to do so for Deadly Hero would be too restrictive for the type of realism we wished to depict. Bartkowiak was able to retain the use of light and shadow even while adding color, as shown in his contrasting bar scenes—light, when the cop is celebrating with his fellow officers; shadow, when he’s confronting the victim who’s turning on him.

McGrath also made a wise choice by selecting Brad Fiedel as composer. Fiedel had made his feature film debut in my production of Damien’s Island (1976), the story of the famed leper priest of Hawaii; he would later be chosen by James Cameron to provide the score for The Terminator (1984).

McGrath’s persuasiveness and perseverance netted the great James Earl Jones as the criminal; he was simply courageous in casting his own wife, Diahn Williams, as the cellist. And he had faith that I could play a psychopathic cop, even when confronted with the fact that my most recent roles had been a priest, a preacher and a benevolent lawman.

THOUGH Ivan Nagy came into movies through his work as a visual artist, he proved to be very adroit in his handling of actors. His attention to detail paid off: Diahn Williams is theatrical in her musical performances but is down-to-earth and conversational when she is teaching children; her scenes of inner conflict and terror are so real that you think you’re watching a news broadcast rather than fictional drama. James Earl Jones flashes from poetic to terrifying so suddenly and so unpredictably that he keeps the viewer constantly on edge.

The task in playing the psychotic cop was to enter a world of psychological deterioration that I have only visited but never lived. The approach was to be totally subjective in the role, to never consider any point of view other than the cop’s. He was always ‘right,’ his emotions and actions always justified. From his point of view the criminal, the cellist, the abused street people all got what they deserved. The performance as the cop emerged from memories of despicable neo-Nazis I’d encountered during my years in post-World War II and from the depraved inhabitants of the narcotics world director Fred Zinnemann and I had studied in order to shape the character of the dope addict in A Hatful of Rain (1957).

Nagy encouraged such complete immersion within the psyche of the cop that my wife Elizabeth, upon seeing the completed film, said to me: ‘I don’t see anything of you in that role.’ I certainly hope not!

FILMS like Chinatown (1974) and L.A. Confidential (1997) made color an evocative component in the ongoing evolution of film noir. Deadly Hero stems from that time when the original notions of noir were being retooled for an audience that needed a new form of dark reality. It reflects that reality unflinchingly. If the rest of us have fulfilled the potential in George Wislocki’s vision, then Deadly Hero might well emerge from its recent obscurity to become a pivotal embodiment of what I’ve taken to call noir’s rebirth as ‘Black Film in Color.’”

Directed by Ivan Nagy. Running time: 102 minutes. Presented by digital reproduction.

The above material is reprinted from the article “Don Murray on Deadly Hero,” published in the Summer 2011 edition of NOIR CITY, the Film Noir Foundation’s quarterly journal. For more information, visit the Foundation’s website at www.filmnoirfoundation.org.

EVENING PROGRAM

BUS STOP (1956) 7:00pm

Don Murray crashed through to big-screen prominence and received an Oscar nomination for his performance as Beauregard “Bo” Decker in ’s film adaptation of William Inge’s hit play. Amusingly, some people today are off-put by the boorishly boisterous performance that Don creates for the brash, impulsive young rodeo star who falls in love with fragile café singer Cherie (played by an actress you may dimly remember---Marilyn Monroe!). Here is Brandt Spotseller, a spirited advocate for Don Murray’s breakout performance:

“While I'm in agreement with the consensus view that Bus Stop is one of the better films with Marilyn Monroe, and I like Monroe as much as the next classic film fan, or as much as the next guy with overactive hormones, I've noticed a relative downplaying of Don Murray's work in the film—often critics outright dismiss him, characterizing Bus Stop as a film that works "despite Murray's character and performance".

I couldn't disagree with that more strongly. Not to detract from Monroe, but what really pushed Bus Stop over the top for me in terms of quality--in addition to the fine, allegorical story--was the hilariously over-the-top performance of Murray and the sheer absurdity of his character.

But perhaps my different view on this, and why I love the film so much, is because I'm a huge fan of absurdism. Bus Stop is the tale of Beauregard ‘Bo’ Decker (Murray) and Virgil Blessing (Arthur O'Connell). They're headed from their ranch in Montana to Phoenix, Arizona to participate in a rodeo. Bo is quite skilled at ridin' and rustlin', so Virgil is taking him ‘off of the farm’ for one of the only times in his life to give the rodeo a shot, and more importantly, to get him a bit more worldly experience— especially with women. Bo's experience with the fairer sex had been pretty much limited to pictures in magazines.

Virgil seems to just want Bo to lose a bit of his innocence, but Bo has in his mind that he's going to find ‘an angel’ and take possession of her. Because he's only been on a ranch, that's the only way he knows how to relate to anything. He figures once he finds an angel he'll just rope her up like a calf and take her home. As we see from the beginning of the film, Bo has a tendency to be brash and yell at everyone, like he's hollerin' instructions across the range at his partner before they lose control of their cattle.

Enter Monroe as showgirl Cherie. She's an Arkansas hillbilly (heck, we learn that she even almost married her cousin) who’s made it as far as Arizona, where she's playing a dive girlie club in Phoenix, trying to earn enough money and gumption to one day make it to L.A. Once Bo sees her, he decides she's his angel. Needless to say, that doesn't go over so well.

The bulk of the film consists of Bo trying to ride everything in the world like a bucking bronco while others, including Cherie, try to figure out what's wrong with him. For me—and for the multitudes of mid-50s movie lovers who made Bus Stop a runaway hit—this material was gut-bustingly funny.

This is not to say that Monroe doesn't turn in a great, nuanced performance—she does, despite the reported difficulties filming her. According to screenwriter George Axelrod, she would repeatedly break out in tears, become extremely frustrated, forget her lines, yell profanities, and director Joshua Logan couldn't call "cut" during her scenes or she'd take it as a personal affront, so Logan would let 900 feet of film just run out while he talked to her, coaxing a performance out of her.

But without Murray's bizarre but funny character, which he plays to a tee, I'm not sure that Bus Stop would work. It’s his ability to be ‘broad’ that sets Monroe up to find a broader tone for her own character—funny, tinged with world-weariness, on the edge between loneliness and a kind of melancholy hope.

Every character with more than a couple lines is experiencing this in some way—even Bo, who is covering it up with his boisterousness. Logan and Axelrod also emphasize ironies—one beautiful instance is when Bo announces Cherie as his angel while she's singing "That Old Black Magic" in a very suggestive costume. And there are subtle parallels in their quests: in their loneliness and hope, they're really all looking for their own angels, often not recognizing when they're right in front of them.”

THE story for Bus Stop was originally a one-act play by William Inge called People in the Wind. Inge later adapted People in the Wind for a larger scale production on Broadway, retitled Bus Stop. It opened at the Music Box Theater in New York City on March 2, 1955 and ran for 478 performances. It was adapted for film by George Axelrod, who made significant changes, dropping major characters to focus the story more completely around Bo and Cherie.

Directed by Joshua Logan. Running time: 96 minutes, color, Cinemascope. Presented by digital reproduction.

BREATHE (2007) 9:15pm

Don Murray was so entranced by the incredible tale he heard from a dinner guest that he decided it had to be filmed. And this was no ordinary dinner guest, either—but none other than Santa Barbara diver/conservationist/marine cinematographer Tom Campbell, who would soon find himself signed up as the high-definition director of photography for Breathe.

Here is a synopsis of the story:

“’Most of us get to chose how we live our lives. Almost none of us get to choose how we die. And the choice of being a victim or a hero is often a choice between life and death.’

Tom Campbell’s choice to be a hero seems to guarantee that he’ll also be a victim. As a Force Recon Marine, he leaps from a helicopter and swims underwater to fight behind enemy lines. As an underwater filmmaker, he lures Great White sharks into a feeding frenzy so he and his wife Cindy can film them from the safety of a cage. But he loses that safety when one of those voracious monsters hits their cage with a force that sends them flailing to the ocean bottom with no way out but through the thrashing and tearing of the Great Whites above.

There is a ‘terrible beauty’ in the world they explore beneath the waves and they revel in sights not seen by others since few can reach and survive that perilous environment. But their choice of how they live their lives seems to have become a choice of how they die.

Tom leads Cindy and their best friend in a lobster hunt through the cold caves of Santa Cruz Island, off the California coast. A sudden surge kicks up silt that blinds them to a way out; their efforts to swim, squeeze and claw their way through increasingly narrow tunnels lead them yet deeper and deeper into the bowels of the island caves.

The respite they find in a closet sized air-pocket proves fleeting when they discover they have only enough air in their tanks for one diver to try to find a way out. Tom is the obvious choice, but a “reverse squeeze” has burst his eardrum and he can’t tell left from right or up from down. Hope for an outside savior is dashed when a fourth diver panics in the tight caves and barely escapes with his own life. There is no way that the jutting, twisting, constricting tunnels can be appreciated for their beauty now. They are the enemy, a relentless enemy, as incapable of pity or mercy as the Great Whites and even more impossible to placate or distract.

Tom runs out of air and has to abandon the tanks to swim just holding his breath, still not seeing a way out, while in the cave the rising tide and diminishing air seems to be sucking the life out of the two he is desperately trying to save.”

Though the term “underwater cliffhanger” doesn’t quite seem to work as a visual image, that’s exactly what Breathe is—a thriller from a real-life story too strange to have been thought up as fiction.

Breathe is also a Murray family project: in addition to Don’s direction, the role of Tom Campbell as a young man is played by Mick Murray, Don’s youngest son, alternately an actor and a treasure diver. Don’s oldest son, Christopher Murray, from his first marriage (to actress ), who has carved out a notable career as a character actor, appears in a small but pivotal role. And Don’s middle son Sean, a gifted film composer, contributed the musical score.

Directed by Don Murray. Running time: 85 minutes, color, high-definition digital. Presented by digital reproduction.