Joseph L. Mankiewicz
Even though Mank only started his directing career in the second half of the last decade, it was his most consistently great string of movies, with all seven being 'good' at the very least. Mank exploded into this decade with his masterpiece, and otherwise expanded his aims to forge interesting and ambitious projects, if not as evenly terrific as his 40s output. While it's unclear if I’ll have room for more than
All About Eve, they are mostly all worth watching.
domino wrote some analysis of Mank’s interests a while back (I believe related to
All About Eve) in self-consciousness, navigating inflated ego in actuality as well as solipsistic self-deception. I’d go so far as to broaden this thesis to creating ‘social pictures’ that are complex by the nature of individual egos co-existing with other perspectives and objective realities to combat their subjective ones. I wonder if Mank’s masterful direction of his actors and formalist sensitivity to their needs comes from a place of rare objectivity, where he can use the medium to take impartial perspective, and validate all the egos that are isolated in practice, yet familiar in spirit, to his own.
I want to reframe the context of ‘ego’ at face value, since I don't think it's always inflated, but finds itself in the definition of a sense of self. This mental muscle's range clearly overwhelms enough of these characters across his filmography to be somewhat autobiographical to Mank’s own challenges navigating life, under the admission that we are our own ‘most important person’ in a milieu that doesn't agree. That latter theme, of the discord in people’s attempts at issuing control in a world that suppresses such possibilities, relates to an exploration of ego objectively in his cinema like a glove, and is one of my personal favorite ideas to explore on film.
I’ve seen all of his 50s output before, save for
Guys and Dolls, so this is mostly a comprehensive set of revisits filtered through an auteurist lens rather than distinctive assessments on original works divorced of Mank’s occasionally obfuscated brand.
No Way Out
Perhaps Mank’s worst film this decade, this falls more in line with your typical ‘social problem pic’ where racism comes to a boil between deep-rooted skewed beliefs in Widmark (for reasons actually afforded some early brief sympathy) and their influence in the objective facts of science. By refusing the autopsy, Widmark blocks the option of a tangible answer that may possibly threaten his worldview in providing evidence that color is not to blame. It’s an interesting premise, in clashing perspectives in a field of pragmatism waned into tribal social-emotional instincts, as other racist feelings and selfish politics infect everyone’s actions. Widmark’s perf in early hospital scenes, powerless and chained to the bed, is quite startling in its effectiveness. Still, it's all downhill from here as the narrative is largely uninteresting in tackling this theme and there are too many ideas (including actual hypotheses) posed, without engaging with them in depth. We are left with a programmer on racial tension that doesn’t look much different than others, outside of a few careful shots as Mank directs his actors to complicated levels of stress and sentiment. Sadly these deflate on arrival of the next action
All About Eve
I already wrote up my thoughts on this in the film’s dedicated thread last year, and have little to add, other than to call it one of the most charitable expositions of ‘ego’ put on film. Mank glamorizes its possibilities in being realised, and demonstrates the risks and consequences that come with the tide of time, contesting with a pit of other social perspectives looking to exercise their own.
One aspect of the film I’ve warmed to over time is how Eve, for all her “dishonest” or “disloyal” acts, actually earns her place as replacement for Davis. Mank establishes a world in which individualism reigns and personal gain and interest are drives woven into every exchange. Mank isn’t wagging his finger at any industry or society but instead presenting a matter-of-fact authenticity than bleeds what idealists may dub to be inauthentic relationships or skeptics may reduce to terms like a “dog-eat-dog” world. There is a social fake of course, as there is in just about any culture, but the seams of any reciprocal connection are so delicate they’re transparent.
Early on, Davis recalls Baxter’s integration into her life and states all her roles in their partnership in voiceover while we see Davis reclining and basking in the pleasures of her status (taking an aggressive bite out of that baguette!) as Baxter acts as her maid in flashback. The dissonance between perspective and actuality is somewhat cheeky but taken seriously enough to not assign blame as much as question any moral arguments in the first place. So many other scenes contribute to the ending where all characters Eve steps on are complicit in their fates. Are they free now, from this world of deceit and selfishness? I don’t think so, but it would be fitting if they thought they were, still blind to the stance of ambivalence in the world at large!
The notion of responsibility is omitted from the equation throughout, and Eve’s manipulation is therefore a strength as much as a weakness. Mank furthers his worldview of impermanent position and abstract subjective determinations of happiness or status in allowing Eve to have her moment but presenting another obstacle coming in as a new threat. The existential theme of aging splits its interest to the mortality of life as well as that death as applied to social validation and position. The focus on women in particular raises the stakes, for a population who are typically left in the sidelines and whose psychological ‘offensive’ defense mechanisms sway towards relational vs physical aggression to ascends ranks in external social mobility as well as internal ego growth. Mank gives us a picture of the ideas in Sartre’s “hell is other people” played out, while acknowledging that without these people one would have nothing to aspire to, in a sense appreciating the game of maneuvering through life to achieve a sense of identity and self-imposed accomplishment. Here there is support of the power of the will and the limitations of such will power if one seeks static finite gains, and also in the idea of fate.
Davis recognizes what is happening early on but is powerless to stop the movement. Is this because of Baxter’s will opposing her opposition, following a social form of Newton’s laws of physics, or because of the support of the men in the industry, or simply because it is fate, the way of the world, the circle of life? As Davis desperately tries to hang on to her significance and role in her social context, the director declares that actors never die, actors never change- as if making a plea to hold onto the facade that is their worldview, preventing vulnerability and acceptance of existential death. The joke is on everyone here (but it’s not a mean joke) because as they pine against reality for that cemented statuses in denial or full awareness, and even momentarily achieve such serenity through selfish means, fate bars the sustainable wishes of their dreams. And yet what is life but a series of moments where you can look at yourself in that mirror, see your passion, desires, ambitions, and dreams, and appreciate what you see?
To some people, like Eve, who have something to aspire to, there is a hope which drives lively participation in the system of life, no matter how flawed. This is contrasted with people like Davis who have achieved these aspirations and scrapple in anxiety and paranoia to hang onto that which fate’s gravity will pull from them, living in complacency and stagnation. The ideas of belongingness and achievement make life worth living, even if there is pain through and on the other side, but it’s the process - that which Eve takes and that Margot has already taken- that really make one feel alive. I think about the studies that show how drug addicts fire most dopamine prior to shooting up, even more than all that fires as a result of the drug itself. Eve reaches her dreams but that moment will be short lived, and perhaps ironically she’ll never understand that it was about the journey there and not the actual end, even when she too becomes complacent and apathetic until her back is also against a wall and she enters the crisis part of the cycle.
Mank’s technical prowess and willingness to meet his characters where they are at is probably used best here, in his best film. Why is it his best film? Well, how many filmmakers can flesh out so many characters in such a socially aggressive drama, and leave the audience engaging with all parties equally without an aggressive urge in our bodies, while also moved with ephemeral camerawork that dances with the content and doesn’t repeat the same choice twice?
This is a film that is, among many things, about our societally driven psychologies that support ignorance of the present, including possible contentment, relationships, or morality, in favor of the past and future. Mank doesn’t damn us, but he exposes the satire with an objective cold kind of empathy for all playing the game in this melodramatic machine of life, without any interest in becoming didactic. A bold avenue to take, and assimilated into the excellent performances, script, spacial design, and countless other perfect attributes of this film I haven’t even touched on, the product blossoms into a beautiful flower whose name we can pronounce but whose contents we can’t, which only makes it more pronounced as a whole. The wonderful self-reflexive exchange between Sanders and Baxter toward the end refers to the content of the film and the history of the 20th century as melodrama, before then turning inward succumbing to, and becoming, such a melodramatic peak cinematically, puts a cherry on top of the genius already exhibited in this magnum opus and layered defining work of the industry, social experience, and the art form itself.
People Will Talk
This was so much worse on a revisit - Though I never really liked it too much, I recalled being more interested in the ‘mystery’ behind Grant’s trial. This outing I had forgotten the answer but found myself drawn to the romance, looking exhaustingly for sparks in its stale zone. The dialogue portion of the script is still fire, but the narrative itself -especially its bifurcated attempt at tackling two distinct portions of the story- carry unclear tonal aims, and I found myself continuously bored (I hate that word, but I cannot think of a better one here) by the attempts at drama. The personalities on display are as obstructed as the egos behind them are headstrong, so we are never offered a pathway into aligning with any of them- and when everything on the screen is a banal puzzlement, then regardless of how good a writer Mank is, the film becomes a wash. Still, the man has a way with words, and there is a very interesting film buried in here- one where maybe we can care more about these dense, (probably?) complex characters.
5 Fingers
I have to admit that I’ve never understood the adoration for this suave spy film that others have, and a rewatch didn’t change that. That doesn’t mean it’s not a solid film, and if anything this film finds genuine pleasure in dignified behavior to mitigate the anxiety of the thriller to a place of externally civilized charm, hitting the meat of espionage by remaining with the masks we wear. The entire structure seems to be based on people quietly struggling to cope with inflated weight they place on their predicaments, while also trying to forge superficial relationships, cooly with reservation. How can anyone trust anybody but themselves? And regardless of whether they can or not, what qualities do we champion, one’s soul or their actions?
There is a romanticism unveiled where people admire and despise one another at once, as they threaten each subject’s position but mirror their virtues. The film may be inconsistently engaging due to its mild temperament, but I find the last act thrilling in a very tranquil way as Mason processes his own feelings and stances of judgement, only aloof while moving toward his own committed drive. The ending is perfect too, and professes the truth about what will satisfy the ego most when on the losing end- schadenfreude.
Julius Caesar
I wrote a blurb about this for the Shakespeare project, where it placed high, because who better to direct Shakespeare than Mank? His ability to measure both sides of the conflict without allegiance challenges the audience to do the same, so when Brando gives the most famous speech in the play, we are convinced along with the crowd. Here Mank makes a show of the greatest potential of the ego, the superpowers of agency that he clearly relishes and finds joy exploring so vividly hidden in an adapted work.
The capabilities of expression find manipulation and raw emotional honesty in the same breath, so we are never clear which part of the ego is being fed, the mind for self-gain or the heart for validation and emotional triumph. It’s about as perfect a Shakespeare adaptation as there ever was, especially a play like this which is so difficult to pull off, relying on that central speech to make or break its effect.
The Barefoot Contessa
This one I actually liked a lot more this revisit, thanks to less of a focus on the story and more on Mank’s acidic script and formidable competition of egos. The initial scene in the club magnifies the souls of several eccentric characters by playing them off of one another, making deceptively simple people like Kirk Edwards complicated. Edwards is a narcissist who plays God but chastises others for blaspheming, because his solipsism holds religious values that he was raised on cemented as truths, or because he empathizes with the creator whose superiority he identifies with?
Ego here falters on the line of confidence- Bogart and Gardner are both self-assured but humble enough to process their abilities to reach their dreams. Bogart particularly understands his limitations because he knows the politics of the industry and the limitations of power in the world at large, while Gardner abides by a code that solidifies her own self-regard as stable without comprehension of foreign milieus and an admitted need for a codependent relationship.
The narrative told from different points of view helps establish Mank’s interest in collective subjectivity- taking the reality of our limitations and transforming it into as close to God’s omniscient view as we can get, fittingly in step with Kirk’s obsession and Mank’s own interest in using cinema to explore multiple truths under the concession that life is far more handicapped in this respect. Through this procedure of firing off fallible rounds, Mank strokes his own ego in paradoxically acknowledging humility, while still allowing himself to reach for the stars in searching for objective perspective, exercising his ego from a safe, concealed place. This reminds me of his previous Shakespeare film on that respect- obscuring his intention through a variety of larger-than-life characters, witty dialogue, and expert direction; though realistically he may not even be aware of his posture, disguised even from himself by giving his whole self into his art.
Unfortunately the narrative loses steam for me in the middle once Gardner begins her series of relocations, though the theme of issuing her will to hunt for happiness is worthwhile if only for the incongruity of her beaming smile and Bogart’s apprehension during their scenes together, yet still bound in calm harmony not crisis. Bogart warns her of the difference between fairy tale and humanity’s dark sides, but her self-deception, whether as a sensitive coping mechanism or a fault of inflated ego, leads to destructiveness- and the culmination of violence is a direct result of a sleeper character’s unrestrained ego overthrowing his emotional regulation.
Bogart’s worldliness, as defined by his self-acceptance with external awareness and considered restraint, seems like the closest Mank has come to drawing an idealistic persona on the screen (no coincidence, likely, that he’s also a director who seeks liberation from the obviously flawed egos in the industry around him!) - After reading through a chunk of Hawks’ biography, Mank seems to be doing what others have argued Hawks did, and what many directors were doing at the time- realising his fantasies through cinema, here in a character of how he wants to see himself.
Guys and Dolls
Funny, ostentatious, playful musical, stuffed to the brim with eclectic expressions of characters mingling, manipulating, deceiving, collaborating, and wisecracking on the path to self-actualization. Musicals rarely flaunt this much ego, which is saying something! Every element is so extravagant, where even personalities are fronts of confident artifice, like Mason in
5 Fingers transported into a colorful dreamscape. Brando and Sinatra flood the atmosphere with their swollen confidence, and their execution of gags like Sinatra’s one-sided banter on the phone are subtle bits of gold.
Correcting the error of
People Will Talk’s choice to split its narrative into avenues, this second try at division works wonders. The exposition is mostly a conglomeration of different visual ideas that serve as tools for the actors to trigger their shades of identity or surfaces to bounce their egos off of, yet the compact crowded nature of stimuli reminds one of Mank’s awareness of a greater power that keeps him right-sized. The only scenes where we can breathe in reprieve from the overpopulated mayhem is when romantic energy is passing between two characters. Even when other people are in the room in the midpoint scene of Brando and Simmons in the church, the silence is deafening in contrast with the commotion; and we are able to see deeper, fuller colors of a personality and needs that have been hidden beneath the posed exteriors.
This film revealed a new iteration of Mank’s exhibition of egos- that of soulmates (which don’t always have to be romantic). In Mank's worlds, his characters don’t masquerade, but there are secret sections of an identity encrusted within, only provoked by the ‘right’ partner who can match them with a similarly defined self-assured individualism. This isn’t a steadfast rule, and Mank most often paints tragedies where this fails. Still, there is a clear brewing attraction between two people who respect one another, even if he won’t pretend that a person can save another human being from the pitfalls of their own self, society, or even that this soulmate will be able to modulate their own wills for the sake of the other.
Julius Caesar is a direct example of the latter as is
5 Fingers,
The Barefoot Contessa the former,
All About Eve also the former specifically toward society’s neutral void of allegiance, and
Suddenly, Last Summer - well, that’s a special one taken to psychological extemes!
Guys and Dolls, though, is the most purely optimistic fantasy of this power in partnership (fittingly for a musical!) especially as Brando and Simmons each awaken new potential in one another when together. The barfight where Simmons proves that she's capable of escaping her prudish cocoon, culminating in a drunken uninhibited chant in the park (the great
If I Were a Bell number) is sublime, and impressively pitched as satisfactory evidence for herself of her own abilities, rather than sourced only to persuade Brando of her worth.
Brando’s own self-discovery is heightened by Simmons’ charms as indicative of his grand gesture toward the end. The irony of egoists sitting in a church under a higher power is great, as is Brando and Simmons wrestling with their self-aggrandizing or self-driven courses under the roof of biblical morality. This mimics the already-discussed theme of finding a kinetic balance between the self’s drive to control and limitations from powers beyond one’s control, very well established in musical form.
The Quiet American
This felt like
5 Fingers with all glamorous appeal removed. The clear primary concern of propaganda extinguishes whatever intricate ego-combatants were possible in an otherwise important story. Redgrave’s emotional dysregulation feels forced rather than a product of Mank’s exploration of existential crisis resulting from failed control against greater systems, which is still present but so one-note it feels like a Lifetime programmer and, frankly, disrespectful to audiences looking for an actual authentic script. The dialogue feels like it’s breaking the fourth wall to wink at us constantly, labeling specific American nationalist concerns openly on its sleeves.
Mank thrives on drawing dense characters, who appear impenetrable but are granted shades of humanity through objective participation with others. In this one they just say it all, express it all, and still come away appearing as empty vessels communicating air. The plot almost helps this one from becoming his clear-worst of the decade, but if I’m being honest, it has to be for compromising his strengths so tenaciously.
Suddenly, Last Summer
Mank’s second best of the decade comes at the opposite end of it, a psychological study that is as tangled as the visual metaphor of a jungle existing in a mansion- a sinister, complicated, wild savage core hidden within socially-constructed appearances of wealth and prominence. The chanting mentally ill patients operating on id as Taylor’s presence enters the scene is indicative of the threats to the secure sense of self by primal forces- but also represents the organic activation that transpires when a vessel of agency moves through a territory occupied by sexually-impetuous beings, with other aims at serving the self. Mank may even be asking - when boiled down to self-indulgence, are these intentions so different?
Hepburn’s early speech of creating art -whether by social manipulation or doctor operations here- as optimal in allowing a person to become a God, is Mank allowing his characters to openly call a spade a spade for him whilst recognizing the ridiculousness of this belief beyond desire. The phrase “the sharp knife in the mind kills the devil in the soul” reinforces mankind’s ego seeking to control the unmanageable nature swallowing us up. Here that nature is enigmatically internal rather than overwhelmingly externalized in a greater environment, and the failure to do so marks one of Mank’s most humble messages tucked away in his most lavishly exaggerated in performance and content.
Nature wins out hard here, and Sebastian’s soiled ethos is a case in point- or is it? Like his other work dealing with perspective, Mank has two skewed accounts -this time from two potentially-insane people- to paint a picture of a mystery man’s character. The way Hepburn substitutes the search for God in place of deviant homosexuality is a creative form of self-protecting insanity, with her approaching her own form of delusion, no more stable than the one locked up. Taylor even suppresses the truth to maintain her distance from trauma, part of which is rooted in dissonance between Sebastian’s true character and the picture of how she wants to see him. However, her troubled memory curiously only developed as murky once she was gaslit and sectioned away after disclosing Sebastian’s behavior to her family, suggesting that perhaps the effects of broad social invalidation on the ego created just as detrimental trauma to her brain as the incident itself. Oh what an overwhelming force this incorrigible, oppressive world is!
The challenge of creating a tangible truth is further complicated by the process of grief on both female victims. Taylor’s speeches are scattered and full of contradictions and inner turmoil, while Hepburn unravels herself when slips from careful verbalizations are recognized and called out. This is an environment where people don't identify what is meant to be buried. Even Taylor’s immediate family are self-gratifying egoists, refusing to acknowledge their complicit actions in planning to lobotomize her, distressing over her direct address of the consequences of their actions. Everyone here represses the truth in favor of a preferred narrative that services the ego, forming a bubble that is vulnerable to popping by a pinprick of unexpected honesty- often in an opposing perspective which proposes a different version of the truth. Objectivity doesn’t matter as much as the threat to one’s own subjectivity-as-objectivity self-as-God fantasy. Hepburn winds up ironically most-crazed through a failure to find her own catharsis in acceptance, as Taylor releases hers in a step towards her own sanity.
Going back to the ‘ego-soulmate’ theme, this film goes for broke as it finds a novel pathway in that definition, concocting an elaborate ruse of oblivious defense mechanisms to hold onto an idealized version of a mother’s soulmate in her son- to sickening consequences. The power of perspective is exhibited without filter, serving each character’s worldview to cope with what cannot be understood, that in the soul that cannot be controlled with the mind.
Sebastian’s greatest error, per Taylor, was in “trying to correct a human situation” for the first time in his life. He has always manipulated people, but he made a forceful effort to exert control over an unstoppable mass in his final moment. In succumbing to his flaws under the heat of invalidation, Sebastian sealed his fate- an emblem of the inevitable downfall caused by total ignorance of the augmented ego.
