Les feux de l'été

I've always loved a recording I have by Gordon MacRae of The Long Hot Summer, not knowing it was sung over the titles in this movie by Jimmie Rogers. Good songs always add to a movie I've always thought and this romantic drama gets a boost from this lovely melody. Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward married either here or shortly after and went on to collaborate on many other movies. This must be one of the best although as I say, it is flawed. Mainly because Newman's Ben Quick couldn't really have taken on all the things he gets to do here in the space of just a few days.

Nevertheless I loved this movie and the stellar cast that included Lee Remick as Joanne's sister in law, Tony Franciosa as her disturbed brother, Orson Welles as their dominant bullying father, Angela Lansbury as Welles' girlfriend and Richard Anderson as Joanne's boy friend. Beautifully shot and superbly directed by Martin Ritt, the movies just sparkles thanks to these actors.

I saw this film again last night at an old-time movie palace, in an audience of about 2,000 people. The film, which I had seen before, was even more enjoyable then the previous times I had seen it on TV. For one thing, it has some very lovely and well executed uses of the CinemaScope frame. It shows both the dry openness of the landscape, as well as the lush extravagance of the plantation estate which belongs to Orson Welles' character. I'm not too familiar with Faulkner's stories, but the plot elements of this film flow together rather nicely, and there isn't really a dull moment in the whole picture. The only part which is still difficult for me to take, is the resolution of the conflict between Welles' and Franciosa's characters. That scene builds up to something in a matter of minutes, and then suddenly it's over. I could hear disappointment in some audience members in the theater as well, including one person who shouted "What the heck was that about?". This aside, it's still a worthwhile film to see, and the acting of Newman, Woodward, and Welles are standouts. There are also plenty of (probably unintentional) laughs to be had as well. One of the better soap opera-type films to come out of the late 1950s.

The Long, Hot Summer is an adaptation of William Faulkner's novel The Hamlet. Now, I just happen to be one of the world's biggest Faulkner fanatics, having read all but five of his novels. I have read The Hamlet, and it is a somewhat lesser work than his grand masterpieces (The Sound and the Fury, As I Lay Dying, Absalom, Absalom!, A Light in August, and Go Down Moses; I would also add, though they are lesser known than those five, If I Forget Thee Jerusalem and Pylon). It is more or less a novel made up of a bunch of various stories about the Snopes' family invasion into Yoknapatawpha County in the early part of the 20th Century (1920s, if I remember right; it's been a while since I've read that novel), and as such, it is quite poorly constructed. Faulkner's miraculous writing is intact, but the structure is convoluted.

The Long, Hot Summer changes most of what happens in The Hamlet, but it still ends up feeling very Faulknerian (if a little Hollywoodized, especially around the ending). The Hamlet contains a cast of several dozen townfolk and the Snopes family, a Northern family of carpetbaggers who have their eyes set on the hamlet of Frenchman's Bend. The main character in the novel is Flem Snopes. His name is changed in the film to Ben Quick, who was himself one of the original townspeople in the novel (in fact, the Quick family, although they never play a major role in any novel or even short story, pops up constantly in Faulkner's mythology). Quick is played impeccably by Paul Newman. If Flem Snopes had remained as he was written by Faulkner, Paul Newman would have been way too handsome to play him. Instead, the screenwriters,Irving Ravetch and Harriet Frank Jr., have made him more likable without losing his complexities. They do it by making Ben Quick the little boy who runs away from his barn burning father ( from the short story, one of Faulkner's most anthologized, Barn Burning). That little boy disappears without a trace in Faulkner's writings. Flem Snopes, a teenager during Barn Burning, stays by his father's side afterwards.

Will Varner remains fairly intact in the film, the most enterprising of any person in the community. He may actually have a more complex character in the film than in the novel. The literary character is more or less an opponent who is forced to deal with Flem Snopes and his family. Here, Will Varner meets a man who reminds him too much of himself in Ben Quick. The filmic Varner has a rather selfish desire to have grandchildren before he dies, and he tries desperately to get his two children to reproduce for him. In the novel, Will Varner has 16 children. With Orson Welles, we should expect nothing more than the best, and we get another one of his masterful performances here. Will Varner is a lot like Hank Quinlan from Touch of Evil (which was released the same year), and the complexities that Welles communicates here are equal to his Charles Foster Kane or Harry Lime.

All the other characters are basically completely changed from the novel. Eula Varner is still a sexpot, but she is no longer Will Varner's youngest daughter, but his dauther-in-law (Flem Snopes originally married her). I don't remember Jody Varner too much from the novel, but I'm pretty sure the insecurities he feels towards Ben Quick were created by the screenwriters (Will Varner never got chummy with Flem Snopes in the novel, so there would be less of a reason for the hatred of Jody). I believe Clara Varner either didn't exist in the novel, or she was much less important. She certainly wasn't the school teacher, since he fell in love with Eula Varner at 13 and ultimately had to resign because of his lust, and then one of the Snopeses taught, I think I.O.

The part of this film that really gives it power is the amazing dialogue. I'm pretty sure that no direct dialogue, or at least very little, was taken from the novel. It was all created by Irving Ravetch and Harriet Frank Jr. It is absolutely poetic. I don't think that there is much dialogue in the novel. Faulkner rather likes to tell his stories silent for the most part. Also, if you are a Faulkner fan, or a fan of this novel in particular, keep your eyes open for echoes of other novels or of things that have dropped out here. There is the sewing machine salesman crack when Ben Quick is approaching Varner's mansion (a joke about the salesman Ratliffe, who provides a majority of The Hamlet's point of view), the hint at Absalom, Absalom! (when one of Varner's horses foals near the end), and the hint at A Light in August (the fire in the distance, the townspeople moving towards it). All in all, The Long, Hot Summer is a masterpiece. It is a beautiful, passionate, and intelligent film, and the best literary adaptation of which I am aware, or maybe only second to The Unbearable Lightness of Being.

The Long, Hot Summer – Big Footprint Not to be mistaken for Wet Hot American Summer (a markedly different romp…), The Long, Hot Summer seems to be a largely forgotten entry into the canon of sweltering 1950s melodramas, mostly historically noteworthy as the project which united Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward, and generally overshadowed by higher profile ballads of illicit love and family angst in the deep south. However, rather than being clouded by a haze of 'Big Daddy's odour of mendacity,' Martin Ritt's film easily has enough merit to stand on its own accord, blending a collection of William Faulkner shorts into a tale of love, lust, and lineage, just clamoring for the qualifier 'steamy'.

Although the plot is definitely familiar territory, and the script errs fairly strongly on the affected style customary to the post-Actors Studio era, the story resonates truthfully and remains engaging throughout, while the alluring undercurrent of barely-bridled sexuality keeps the proceedings energetic and urgent. Ritt's direction is taut but unfussy, allowing the inherent claustrophobia and tension of the film's small-town setting to speak for itself, and the sumptuous Technicolor cinematography is so crisp you can practically smell the marsh and sweat from the Mississippi bayou (and I'm not even just talking about Orson Welles). Although the climax feels like a somewhat forced attempt to escalate the stakes simmering throughout, with an overly hasty resolution to boot, the buildup is calm and confident enough to make the viewing experience worth its while without having to fight to engage its audience.

Naturally, like the majority of its contemporaries, the story ultimately exists as a vehicle to foreground the performances of the cast, who are what ultimately make the film worthwhile. Paul Newman, cementing his iconic identity as the shrewd, laconic, effortlessly cool drifter, crackles with charisma as accused arsonist Ben Quick, magnetic throughout even before his surprisingly racy shirtless scene. Joanne Woodward gives arguably the film's strongest performance as the controversially unmarried Clara Varner, practically vibrating in place from a lifetime of feeling discounted and under-appreciated. Rather than playing up her predicament, however, Woodward embodies Clara with a steely confidence, which is altogether more effective and appealing. In contrast, Orson Welles delivers the film's most legendarily outlandish performance as the resident belligerent patriarch. Notoriously mocking the Actors' Studio by mumbling almost incomprehensibly through his cartoonish southern drawl, the vociferous Welles is skilled enough to steal scenes in his sleep (which he may well have been during certain scenes), outrageously fun when hamming it up, with occasional pockets of surprising solemnity and depth, as if coming up for air from his customary grunting and snorting. Anthony Franciosa is also a sturdy presence, even if he does occasionally overindulge in Method hand-wringing and hysteria, while a cameo from the delightful Angela Lansbury as Welles' cheerily aggressive suitor adds a dash of comedic perfection.

While it may fall short of the acerbic intensity of similar fare such as Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, The Long, Hot Summer still serves a healthy slice of all the smouldering, robustly acted 1950s melodrama you could ask for. If only for the incandescent interplay between Newman and Woodward, with the added pleasure of cartoon-character Welles, the film is easily worth sinking into, on a dozy, hot summer evening or otherwise.

-7/10

...and loving it! This movie takes the best of CAT ON A HOT TIN ROOF, A STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE, SUMMER AND SMOKE, throws in more than a dollop of William Inge's PICNIC, borrows the basket auctioning bit from OKLAHOMA! and the digging-for-treasure-by-the-old-collapsing-house subplot from GOD'S LITTLE ACRE - hell, we even get a variation on the cotton gin burning from BABY DOLL - and somehow delivers an original and unforgettable entertainment, the kind of movie they truly don't make any more. Every member of the cast is superb, with Woodward being a standout and Lee Remmick being gorgeous. How audiences must have swooned in 1958! How many people left the theater thinking they had seen something truly naughty and adult! This film has great dialog, atmosphere to spare, stunning yet understated costumes by Adele Palmer, and gorgeous cinematography. This is all tied together by another fine Alex North score. Check out the scene - lasting no more that 45 seconds - when Newman and Woodward cross a small bridge to share a picnic lunch. This music cue is magical. Jerry Wald produced many high-class soap operas at Fox during the late 1950's, but this one is by far the best. Lansbury shines, Welles hams, and Newman takes his shirt off - what more could an audience ask for? A dreamy title tune crooned over the credits? You got it!