(8 of 9)
Along with the rest, even though Marlon never quite made a high-school diploma, goes an impressive intellect. He reads constantly (e.g., Nietzsche, Lao-tse, psychoanalytical textbooks), and has quite a flair for verbal imagery (he once described Wally Cox as "an old. fragile, beautifully embroidered Chinese ceremonial robe, with a few little Three-in-One oil spots on it").
All his talents were brought by the current On the Waterfront to a deep-burning focus in the characterization of Terry Malloy. The role demanded all that Kowalski had, and far more. Kowalski was a brute, and to understand him Brando's heart had to die a little. Terry Malloy was a brute who was turning, in agony and wonder, into a human being, and to interpret him Brando had to take the more painful brunt of being born.
Throughout the entire film there is not a break in Brando's almost magical lifelikeness. At times the audience feels it is being sucked into a painful situation that it had only intended to observe from a safe distance, and there are moments of sudden, nervous recoil. At several of the most painful points, when Brando makes a gesture almost too natural to be borne, the spectators do not dare to gasp—they giggle. There could be no higher tribute.
Firmer Grip. Waterfront, in short, suggests strongly that Brando is getting too big for his blue jeans. But the question arises: What else is he to wear? From Brando's precocious eminence, the future may well look less like a land of dreams than a highly promising nightmare. If, as he professes, he cares chiefly about acting as an art, there will hardly be enough opportunity in commercial Hollywood to keep him there much longer. Désirée, for instance, which will be released next month, is another big slick costume historical with no artistic nonsense about it. Producer Darryl Zanuck claims that Brando turns in one of his greatest performances as Napoleon, but Marlon modestly doubts it. "Most of the time," he says. "I just let the make-up play the part." Marlon's next role, Sky Masterson in the film version of Guys and Dolls, will give him a chance to show how well he can warble and hoof, but it hardly brings him any closer to Hamlet. And after Hollywood, where can Brando go? Broadway? In the last 15 years the New York stage has sunk to a historical low in which whole seasons pass without a single first-rate play appearing. Furthermore, there is no U.S. repertory theater in which a young actor can try the great roles for size, and build his technique while he wins his public.
As a result, while Brando's counterparts in England and France—Laurence Olivier, Jean-Louis Barrault, Gerard Philipe—play a number of important roles on the stage every year as well as one or two in the movies, Brando has only created 14 roles in his entire career of ten years. Furthermore, in five of those parts he played variations on the Kowalski theme. His intimates claim that he can do high comedy, low farce and classic tragedy just as well, but the world has had small chance to judge for itself. One director believes "there's a Faust in this kid, but he may never get to play it."