Streetcar Named Desire

Published: Tuesday, June 14 1994 12:00 a.m. MDT

Though they were initially released nearly 20 years apart, there are significant parallels to be noted in "A Streetcar Named Desire" and "Midnight Cowboy," both in terms of how influential and groundbreaking they were cinematically, and how they shook the nation right down to its moral fiber.

That these productions both came out of Hollywood, and that they helped change the way we look at film, speaks to the power of the art of cinema, even when that art is manipulated by the "establishment."

That they both caused changes in the rating systems that existed during their respective time periods also speaks to that power - as well as to the power of box office revenues, since both films were also financially successful. (Both also won a number of important Oscars.)

Of course, their being reissued at this moment in time is purely coincidence - as is the fact that they are playing in tandem at the Tower Theater beginning this weekend.

But watching them again in such close proximity certainly provides a fascinating history lesson.

- "A STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE" is, of course, Elia Kazan's 1951 film version of Tennessee Williams' play, though it was watered down somewhat to appease the enforcers of Hollywood's Production Code, which was still in force.

This reissued print includes about three minutes of restored footage, which Kazan had reluctantly trimmed because the powers that be felt the images here were too strong for middle America.

In retrospect, of course, the material seems quite tame - or rather, Kazan's treatment of the material. There is a wife-beating scene, a brutal rape and all kinds of anti-social and amoral behavior. But because much of it occurs just off-screen or because a scene cuts away before the action gets too graphic, it's a far cry from what filmmakers frequently display on the screen these days.

And while there's no question that even now the material is perhaps toned down a bit too much, so that there is more ambiguity than Williams intended, the film is no less powerful or striking.

The central character is Blanche Dubois, played superbly by Vivien Leigh, whose own real-life instability probably lent some unintended authenticity to the character. But the powerhouse performance that rumbles and resonates even when the character isn't on screen is Stanley Kowalski, played unforgettably by Marlon Brando.