Revisiting James Dean --- Part One

How come James Dean seems less interesting to me than his various co-stars and supporting players? Maybe I’m tired of everything revolving around him. Among casts of his three big features, there was plenty of drama to go around. I looked at the extras on the DVD’s this week and found myself pondering the fates of Rebel Jim Stark’s classmates who didn’t die young, as did Dean --- the ones that survived to pull plows in forgotten movies and disposable TV shows. Cheapo Warner programs seem to have been alumni clubhouse for youthful movie hopefuls who had sputtered on the launch pad. Richard Davalos had to watch Dean take all of bows for East Of Eden, but Davalos got to outlive Jimmy by over half a century, even as his acting future took him in the direction of Hawaiian Eye and any number of 60’s vid staples. Same for Corey Allen, Dean’s switchblade opponent in Rebel Without A Cause. He did a Hawaiian Eye as well. These young players had to face a reality James Dean would be spared thanks to a premature death. Even those with promise faced the music of Surfside Six (Dennis Hopper), 77 Sunset Strip (Nick Adams), and heaven forbid, Frankenstein Conquers The World (Adams again). So what if Dean had lived? My guess pretty much assigns him the career Paul Newman enjoyed, but wait, could Jim have delivered the goods as Newman would? I am less sure of that. Dean would likely have been exposed before long (Humphrey Bogart speculated as much shortly after 9/30/55) --- imagine Dean submitting to Rally Round The Flag, Boys or The Secret War Of Harry Frigg. One could picture such an eventuality, though it's harder, perhaps, to envision Dean running such a studio gauntlet, let alone successfully. We do know that Jim was all but set to do Somebody Up There Likes Me and The Left-Handed Gun, both of which were ultimately played by Newman. Whatever career he may have ended up with, Dean was indeed lucky to go out with the pristine screen record he had. His fans would certainly have been disillusioned to encounter a middle-aged James Dean in decline, holding up one corner of a late sixties TV tent like The Bold Ones or The Name Of The Game, and yet, if he had lived, it might have come to that …





Having checked out East Of Eden, I was again struck by the artful manner in which experienced character actors accommodated Jimmy’s ultra-mannered playing and very often pulled his inexperienced bacon out of the fire. Succeeding generations of aspiring players might well have chosen more seasoned role models over the Dean image they worshiped so unceasingly. Of these, consider Albert Dekker. Seasoned and reliable Dekker is a steady pivot around which self-indulgent Jim can twirl --- Burl Ives too (you can almost feel his frustration with Dean in this still of them together). These two stand and deliver dialogue like the old pros they are, while Dean relentlessly mopes, sulks, and whines (girlfriend Ann pointed out to me that if young men had really acted that way back in 1917, when East Of Eden's story takes place, they would have probably been put away). Raymond Massey is the primary unfortunate we hear about from production anecdotes, forever depicted as the stolid old performer clinging to inflexible line readings as Dean the acting visionary shows him a thing or three about spontaneity. For my money, it was artists like Massey that made Dean look good. They were noble (if unwitting) straight men to a show-off upstart from whom they might have expected a little more simple courtesy and professionalism. If Dean had lived long enough, he may well have gotten some of that same medicine from future hotshots --- imagine him achieving Massey's senior status and having to play opposite someone like Mickey Rourke.



I don’t mean to knock Dean here. He got a lot better on his second and third tries. Rebel Without A Cause (the subject of tomorrow’s Part Two) was an effectively deliberate movie star performance where he cunningly switched on charm for the fans he knew had accumulated since East Of Eden, and Giant is one of the great, if unintended, self-parodies in all movies. The problem with Jim in East Of Eden is that he’s such a crybaby. Did 1954 chicks dig that? The one I watched it with did not. Some happy day I hope to see one interview where a brave member of that long-in-the-tooth acting brigade who once worked with James Dean is willing to stand up and say, You know what? He seemed like a big deal then, but his stuff just doesn’t work for me anymore. Of course, that’s a sure way to get your footage jettisoned from any of the Dean documentaries that have so far emerged from that profitable ongoing industry, but I’d sure be glad to present the Courage award to any of those old-timers prepared to just once part from the fixed narrative. By the way, to clear up the matter of Marilyn Monroe’s presence here --- she served as volunteer usherette at the East Of Eden premiere --- handing Milton Berle his program in this shot.





One thing they got spectacularly right in East Of Eden was the clothes. That may be what got the serious youth money this one drew ($3.3 million in profit). There was Eden's Jim in his sweater and open collared shirt,  sporty not in 1917 perhaps, but it sure rang the bell in 1954. I could slip into any of these ensembles and look way cool today, and never mind period accuracy, verisimilitude, and the rest. These outfits, simple yet timeless, were exactly the way to sell East Of Eden (I must admit that Richard Davalos’ pompadour was a little beyond the pale --- although it nicely anticipated similar looks to come with Fabian and Rick Nelson). Costume tests for the three principals represent outfits later discarded. Rigid period sartorial adherence was well and good for Davalos and Julie Harris, but Dean was far too valuable to cinch up in heavy wool suits with celluloid collars. The smartest move Warners made was keeping him in those khakis and lightweight tops.  This was the kind of showmanship WB needed when it came time to cast The Spirit Of St. Louis a few years later. Were it not for schedule conflicts (Giant), we may well have had James Dean as Lindbergh instead of aging James Stewart. Imagine the boom in aviation wear with Dean again as fashion inspiration, teens wearing flight goggles to school perhaps. The Davy Crockett coonskin cap thing might have paled by comparison.

Part Two of James Dean is HERE.