A Delicate Balance

Of course, "A Delicate Balance" can not be spoken of without referring to some way to Albee's other masterpiece, "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" I think the Pulitzer that "A Delicate Balance" won was supposed to be shared by "Woolf," which was rejected at the time for being too vulgar.

Not to say that "A Delicate Balance" is not a worthy dramatic work. It's an incredibly intelligent script; Albee makes broad statements about love and aging here that might be missed in a first viewing. Yet "Woolf" shows a much smoother weaving of absurdism into matters than "Balance." I was far more convinced by George and Martha's "son" than I was by Harry and Edna's "terror." As far as transitioning from stage to screen, I thought "Woolf" was also much better, but mostly because of Mike Nichols and Haskell Wexler, the cinematographer.

The cinematography here, I felt, was meant to look as much like a stage play as possible. And at times, I liked it. And the acting is so good in this movie (for the most part) that I was still hooked. But the whole time, I was thinking, "What if Mike Nichols directed this?" Alas, because there is no music either (it would have been nice), we're left only with the acting. And what a fine cast. Katherine Hepburn has a difficult role to pull off with Agnes; she is both the "fulcrum" of this family and, admittedly, part of its defeat. And she does it so well. There is this agony in her eyes towards the latter half of the film that you just can't look away from. And I like her mannerisms, the way she toys with words, the voices she does. Sure, sometimes a few words are lost, but it seemed fitting to the character. Agnes makes speeches (Claire and Tobias have a nice dialogue about this after Agnes's first exit), and I think she makes them for herself as much as she does anybody else. And Hepburn makes it all intriguing. She holds her ground as arguably the finest actress of American cinema.

Paul Scofield ultimately disappointed me. Yes, he is bland and ineffectual, and despite the strength in his eyes, the confidence of his body language, he never quite makes a difference. He pulls all of that off well. And he does have one fantastic moment where Agnes says, "I'm not an old woman, am I?" and, perhaps inspired by Claire and her accordion and drunkenness, grabs her chin and playfully says, "Well, you're my old lady!"--the most life we've seen in him the entire film--and Hepburn just rejects him. The way he pulls back and returns to his shell is painfully uncomfortable. But then, there is what Albee calls in the script an "aria" at the end, in the scene he has with Harry. This is Tobias's moment; the moment I waited for the entire film. I felt that Scofield botched it. He sits through almost all of it. He says only one or two of the lines with any real power, the kind of power Tobias should be storing up the entire movie. And at the end, when he cries--much too late, in my opinion--it is pathetic and almost ignored by anyone else in the room. (As the women do enter halfway through.) Anyway, I was really let down by this, and I think it's the biggest mistake this adaptation made.

Meanwhile, Kate Reid practically steals the film when Hepburn isn't looking. She's absolutely fantastic as Claire. What I really loved was how Reid managed to find the sympathy in Claire. Claire was once played by Elaine Stritch--can you imagine? How terrifying. But while Reid manages to reach those levels of darkness that Stritch probably could, she also turns her twisted past into something that makes her sympathetic of others. She knows pain. And by god, if she doesn't sound EXACTLY like Elizabeth Taylor in "Woolf." It's eerie, but for fans of Albee, incredibly comforting in its familiarity. As if, "This is the way to portray an Albee woman." And she also creates a unique chemistry with each character. I loved the relationship between Claire and Tobias, and the way every "act" of this movie (except for the ending) closed with the two of them. They have a bond that Agnes is wary of. Also, notice the strange way she interacts with Harry. It's rather terrific, and never truly highlighted.

Lee Remick was on and off here, but as one of the other reviewers pointed out, it's not a fully-realized role. Imagine: a woman of thirty-six divorced four times already. Where is the sense of failure, the constant rejection, the bitterness? Julia goes from being rather calm, smoking casually and turning her nose up at her mother, to a level of hysteria that would make Tennessee Williams wipe the sweat from his brow, with no clean transition. A confusing role.

Finally, Joseph Cotten and Betsy Blair. Once again, not fully-developed characters. Joseph Cotten played the role as I expected him to, and that's not a bad thing. He's a terrific actor. He doesn't necessarily make any mistakes here. Betsy Blair was on and off for me, and this I felt was her acting. There was a tentativeness in her voice, a resistance to really attacking the role of Edna and making her, honestly, as unwelcome as she was in this house. She is interesting in that she begins to take over for Agnes the longer she stays (there is a shot of Hepburn realizing this, and the look of horror on her face is absolutely brilliant), but I felt that Blair could have gone further with it.

I think "A Delicate Balance" is, as others have noted, a movie for Albee/theatre fans only. It's not cinematic ally engaging, but if you are familiar with the script, you may enjoy seeing an interpretation of it, particularly with Hepburn and Reid.

Scenes from the life of an argumentative middle-class family: a strong-willed wife and a resigning husband are confronted with her alcoholic sister, their continuously marrying daughter, and their friend couple who are afraid of being alone.

Completely uncinematic, downbeat and very static photographed play, from a Pulitzer prize-winning Albee material, with all the psychological soul-killings expected from the author. A pretty valuable record of a theatrical performance: brilliant dialogue and acting are the best it can offer - and it does so.

Probably were it not for the American Film Theater, that noble project which ultimately did fail of bringing productions of classical American works to film, we might never have seen A Delicate Balance. It's like a lot of O'Neill's work, it's all in the creation of the characters.

Certainly a play which consists of six characters sitting around and talking would not be considered anything film-able today. A Delicate Balance for me seems to take off in the same directions as Edward Albee's other classic, Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf and also bears no small resemblance to O'Neill's Long Day's Journey Into Night.

Both of those films however had bigger budgets and were made more cinematic by having the players move into various locations. The one set technique just doesn't work here. This is not for instance a story as gripping as Alfred Hitchcock's Rope or Rear Window. My guess is that the budget was blown on getting the high priced stars.

Paul Scofield and Katharine Hepburn play a pair of sixty somethings married and living in a posh Connecticut suburb, the kind of place Hepburn grew up in and knew well. Living with them is Hepburn's leach of a sister Kate Reid who they keep well supplied with alcohol and who lives there at Hepburn's insistence. Otherwise Scofield would have tossed this one out with the trash years ago. But he bows to Hepburn's wishes to keep peace and order, a delicate balance if you will.

They get two intruders in their well ordered lives one day. Their neighbors and long time friends, Joseph Cotten and Betsy Blair just ring the bell and announce that something unknown has frightened them in their home and they need to move out and move in with them. Scofield offers them his daughter's room.

But then daughter announces she's moving back after failed marriage number four. Needless to say that causes the balance to go out of whack. Lee Remick is the daughter and she's a selfish and spoiled suburban princess. After this everybody grates on each other's nerves.

Short and on plot, but deep on characterization is A Delicate Balance. It explores the problems of old age and loneliness. Cotten and Blair have no children and Scofield and Hepburn take little comfort in Remick. Perhaps if there were grandchildren things might be different for both couples. There was a son who died for Hepburn and Scofield and that seems to have cast a permanent pall over both of them.

Though Remick is blood kin, Hepburn and especially Scofield have more in common with their neighbors. How it all works out is for you to see A Delicate Balance for.

The film's saving grace is the wonderful performances by the cast. The original Broadway production ran for 132 performances in 1966-1967 and starred Hume Cronyn and Jessica Tandy in the Scofield-Hepburn roles. But certainly Kate and Paul were going to sell more tickets than either of the other two worthy players.

Not that A Delicate Balance did much business back in the day. These films were for limited release in any event and if it's making money it's now in video sales and rentals. Still we can thank the American Film Theater for its preservation with some of the best preservers around.

Director Tony Richardson's presentation of "A Delicate Balance" could be dismissed for it's lack of edginess and it's gentrified (albeit screwed up) characters. It is also what critics would call a "stagy" film. Yet it is redeemed from this dour damnation because of Albee's wonderful way with words, the rich cinematography, and exceptional acting, exceptionally well cast: Katherine Hepburn, Paul Scofield, Lee Remick, Joseph Cotton.

For those looking for a violent film -- not in the form of bullets or explosions -- but of verbal surgical strikes, this is it. Edward Albee's dialogue provides all the female (yes, this would be considered a "woman's movie") protagonists and antagonists (one wonders at times which is which) a laser like aim against their primary targets: other women. And it is done under a guise of "civility"; sometimes, with a smile.

The stand-out among these veteran actors is Kate Reid, who plays Claire, the alcoholic in-law who at times gives the most voice to the story, set amid a dysfunctional Connecticut family. But even her performance can't out weigh the constant barrage of verbal cross-fire from her friends and in-laws. Yet the twist here is that the aggressors are the women, while the men attempt to keep the peace as best they can -- only firing back if attacked by the females.

This isn't a film for everyone; it's definitely the stuff of classic drawing room (psycho) drama. But for those who can appreciate consummate acting armed with deft dialogue, make yourself a nice cup of tea -- spiked with a shot or two of brandy -- and check this out.

There is no music in this superb autumn melody. The words in the mouths of the characters are by Edward Albee and that is music enough. Katharine Hepburn plays Agatha, a close relative of the actress if I ever saw one, Paul Scofield is amazing playing the mild volcano of a husband promising eruptions that when they come they are so civilized that, irrigate rather than decimate. Kate Reid, took over from the extraordinary Kim Stanley and as sensational as Miss Reid is I can't help wondering what Stanley would have done with "a" alcoholic like Claire. Lee Remick is the perfect offspring for Hepburn and Scofield. Selfish, tenuous, childish, rich failure. Joseph Cotten and Betsy Blair are the catalysts, they and their fear, their plague coming to contaminate the contaminated. For film and stage gourmets this is an unmissable treat.