film
AFTs
Three
Sisters,*
‘Butley’
both
successful
Multnomah Hot Rod Council
Presents the 18th. annual
THE OSMOND BROS.
"SNAKE PIT CAR"
"THE BATH TUB CAR"
WESCOTT'S "PINTO ROD"
MODEL-A ROADSTER
"THE PIZZA WAGON"
"THE MUNSTER COACH"
SPECIAL CUSTOM
PAINT DEMONSTRATIONS
BY THE BEARD
FREE MOVIES
COLISEUM
FEEL 28
THRU
MARCH 3
Thurs. & Fri. 6pm to 11pm
Sat fir Sun noon to 11pm
LET'S GO-ROADSTER SHOW
Anton Pavlovitch Chekhov would have rolled in the aisles over the
American Film Theater’s presentation of his play, “Three Sisters.”
That’s a compliment; Chekhov was reprimanded more than once by
serious directors for laughing hysterically at the ludicrous self
inflicted ennui of his characters. Director Laurence Olivier has suc
ceeded in achieving that critical balance of the characterizations by
keeping the dialogue going at such a rapid, normal conversational clip
that it all seems very interesting. Until, that is, the viewer is con
fronted with a wide angle pan of objectivity and realizes that nothing is
being said.
Which is what the play-film’s about. The basic plot concerns three
orphaned sisters and their brother, all still living in their father’s
mansion and none capable of finding satisfaction in life. Marriage is
no solution, either. Masha (Joan Plowright) married her revered
school teacher when she was eighteen, but now, about six years later,
discovers he was no brilliant or even stimulating being. Even a brief
period of romance with visiting Colonel Vershinin (Alan Bates) is
doomed because the troops are eventually transferred.
Everyone else is sorely mismatched, too. Olga (Jeanne Watts)
gave up the unequal struggle years ago and resigns herself “to serving
those less fortunate than ourselves” through teaching and as a stock
old maid. Irina (Louise Purnell) is the youngest sister who limply
tackles the question of whether she sould marry an old dottering baron
(Ronald Pickup) and be wealthy and secure or whether she should
wait until Mr. Right comes along. Yea, even genius brother Andrei
mindlessly marries an intellectually and socially inferior miss who
turns from a sweet young thing to queen bitch. Cheery.
Hie only reasonable content person is Dr. Chebutikin, played by
Olivier himself. The doctor is the stereotyped wizened mediator and
protector, counselor and father to all. And then there’s a household of
servants—mostly character roles—and all the visiting military.
Acting performances were consistently good, but Olivier’s and
wife Joan Plowright’s were the finest—the most consistent within and
without their characters. Bates lacked the necessary ardor.
‘"Hiree Sisters” was a more overt stage production than any of its
American Film Theater predecessors. Settings were not sparse, but
one can easily imagine more grandeur possible had this been done in a
purely cinematic context. Backdrops were openly recognizable; one
could almost discern the splatter. But the production was very worth
while. It is so easy to either sympathize or criticse the bored plights
of Chekhov’s characters until you remember the last time you got
depressed and why.
As subjective was “Three Sisters,” “Butley,” the AFT successor, is
objective.
“Butley,” featuring Alan Bates in the title role, is the story of
English literature professor Ben Butley and his total inability to relate
to people. The conflicts are between Butley’s preoccupation with
personal academic pursuit, his physical heterosexual marriage and
his stifled homosexual bent.
Butley at first appears as a disheveled, alcoholic, chainsmoking
intellect probing the depths of Beatrix Potter nursery rhymes on the
subway. His littered, disorganized office complements this image. In
the office Butley becomes the bane of everyone’s existence: fellow
professor Edna Shaft (Jessica Tandy) leaves him in tears when he
admits supporting her long critical student in 30 years of teaching;
students leave his office frustrated and bewildered when he refuses,
forgets about and makes a savage mockery of tutorials, and office
mate Joey Keyston (Richard O’Callaghan) is harassed endlessly.
Ben Butley’s personal life is no less at odds than his professional one
of “intellectual nausea” (as film director Harold Pinter puts it). He is
currently separated from his wife, Anne (Susan Engel). Although he is
very cool, rude and chiding when Anne visits him at his university
office, Ben is enraged when Anne proposes formal divorce, which
would both free him and would allow her to marry his former best
friend. When she questions his argument against divorce, Ben is
unable to offer any reasons for his adamant rejection of the idea. Anne
is Ben’s one close human contact and his daughter is the lone con
firmation of intimate union; divorce would mean total severance.
Marriage is not Butley’s only social problem. Despite his professed
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heterosexuality Butley battles his compulsive preference of men
companions. He is venomously jealous of Joey’s relationship with his
lover, Reg Nuttall (Michael Byme). In his vain attempts to join Joey
and Reg for dinner and then, upon rejection, to probe and antagonize
their gay relationship, Butley only reinforces his suppressed desire to
be a part of Joey’s homosexual life.
By the end of the movie Anne has gone to live with her new fiancee;
Butley has disowned all his tutorials, and Joey has not only moved into
another office in the university, but has moved out of the house he and
Butley shared and moved in with Reg. And Ben Butley’s alone with his
cigarettes, scotch and Beatrix Potter.
Human-intellectual, self-inflicted castration is Butley’s plight. The
viewer is tom between pity and he-did-it-to-himself sorts of emotions.
Why Butley’s absolute denial of everyone and everything? Qui sais?
Assuming Bates’ performance in the film version of “Butley” was
consistent with his performance in the stage production on Broadway,
it is simple to see why he won the “Tony” award for it. He is stupen
dous in the role. From his introductory shaving nick to the verbal and
emotional destruction of everyone around him-and eventually,
himself-Bates never deviated from his immaculate personification of
the estranged Ben Butley.
Michael Keyston was effective as the tyrannized former student and
office-mate who wants only to be left to himself and his private life
with his lover.
Jessica Tandy epitomized the starched, old regiment English
professor. She was hilarious as the foil who always burst into Butley’s
office at the wrong time, in the middle of one of many tense con
frontations therein.
So that was "Butley.” Now, one thing I forgot to tell you last time I
expounded on the virtues of The American Film Theater: Although
admission was originally to be by season pass only, because the
National Theater in Eugene did not sell out, tickets can be purchased
at show time. The price is $3 for matinees (2 p.m.) and $4 for evening
programs (8 p.m.). Next on the agenda is Kurt Weill and Maxwell
Anderson’s “Lost in the Stars,” to be shown at the National Theater
Monday and Tuesday (One matinee and evening performance each
day), March 11 and 12.
Jeanie Shepherd
TH€ UNII/6RSITY FILM SoCI€TY
presents
d
r
“The Third Man”
Written by Graham Greene
Directed by Sir Carol Reed
starring
Joseph Gotten Orson Welles
Trevor Howard
Academy Award:
Best Cinematography 1949
“A masterpiece of suspense at the very
top of its genre . . . brilliant camera
work and an eerie musical score ...”
—Richard Maynard
Orson Welles’ portrait of Harry Lime is a
brilliant study of corruption—evil, witty,
unreachable . . . attractively macabre.
._ —Pauline Kael
Friday, March 1 7 & 9 p.m.
$1 150 Science
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