Karl Malden’s Mitch first lays eyes upon Vivien Leigh’s Blanche DuBois while in the middle of a poker game and is gently goaded into beginning a conversation about a cigarette case (a silver one at that). His increasingly irritated game buddy urges him to return to the game, in response to which Mitch yells - “Deal me out! I’m speaking with Miss ...uh” and looks to Blanche for help. She reclines, one hand under her chin, the other daintily holding a cigarette, does her best impression of a theremin and replies - “Du bwah”.
And just as easily, I was in love with a character who, among other things is a former prostitute and an implied child molester.
Having watched this film well into the double digit number of times, I've come to the realization that I came for Stanley, but ended up staying for Blanche. Stanley certainly hasn't aged badly, but Blanche gets increasingly mesmerizing with each viewing. There are theories abound about what these two characters are meant to symbolize, but I like to imagine their interplay as a match between the old & the new. Blanche comes from old money, a once eminent family and a background in education, while Stanley has to use his physicality and an army record to defend his immigrant ancestry. Despite the obvious difference in class, if I imagine these two characters in twenty years time, I can see Stanley poring over his retirement plans, spouting a tirade at his son and waiting for the microwave to beep. Blanche on the other hand is on her third mint julep, quoting Whitman’s raunchiest lines, wearing entirely too much makeup and elegantly hitting on the nearest twenty year old. Yes, she does wear powerful shackles which force her to live in a place which she alone inhabits with occasional intrusions from undesirables. The same shackles however make her rise well above the plebeians...she never has and never will feel the need to learn about the Napoleonic code.
Blanche also rarely indulges in self pity in the presence of others. Apart from the one occasion when she bursts into tears in front of Stanley as he hands her a ticket back to Auriol, she keeps her emotions in check. She also does whatever she needs to, to get by - a scalding bath, a drink or three, the rhinestone tiara are all part of her elegant coping mechanism. And whether anyone buys it or not, she is peddling an image of herself as the heroine of her own tale of tragedy, romance and ultimately, redemption.
My preoccupation with the details in this movie have over time made me somewhat indifferent to the ending. There is no denying that it is very poignant and moving and so on, but I find myself zoned out during the last scene when things go south for everyone involved (except Eunice. I think Eunice deserves a movie of her own). I like to think that the heroine of this movie would appreciate the fact that I reach for a bottle of bourbon instead of a box of tissues.
