Brando

As Don Corleone in The Godfather (1973) he stuffed wads of toilet paper into his mouth and reportedly read cue cards. As Paul in Last Tango in Paris (1972), he mooned snobby ballroom dancers and buttered Maria Schneider up. In The Teahouse of the August Moon (1956) he turned Japanese (!) while as Sky Masterson in Guys and Dolls (1955) he crooned softly into Jean Simmons's ear (by his own admission he couldn't sing, but sound editors patched together all his efforts, making it sound like he could).

In his long and controversial career Marlon Brando embraced a wide range of characters from the Mexican revolutionary Emiliano Zapata in Viva Zapata! (1952) to the grotesque sci-fi doctor in The Island of Dr Moreau (1996). Along the way he was both hailed as the greatest actor of all time and severely criticized for squandering his talents.

But whatever Brando’s failures and successes, both personal and professional, he did give us some beautifully rendered scenes. Among the best of these is his improvised encounter with the body of his deceased wife, Rose, in Tango. No tricks, no holds, no prisoners.

For me that scene is right up there with Dirk Bogarde dying in Death in Venice, James Dean traversing his land in Giant (1955), Peter O’Toole prancing and primping in his new robes in Lawrence of Arabia (1962).

His brooding sexual presence and fine emotional interpretations made films like The Ugly American (1963), The Fugitive Kind (1960) and Reflections in a Golden Eye (1967) all worth watching. And then, of course, there’s his portrayal of Stanley Kowalski in A Streetcar Named Desire (1951), his second movie and the one that made him an overnight sensation. Actually, "overnight" is not quite correct, as his Broadway performance as Stan had already catapulted him into stardom; the film just took it to the next level.

Tennessee Williams: "There was no wall of defense, no hesitation, with Marlon. Everything I want to be as a writer, he was, fully, as an actor and as a man: Free and wild and present and without fear. Open and savage in expression. He was a monument of masculinity and as sensitive and furtive as a frightened kitten. A gorgon and a geisha. There's the title. There's the note for you to write down."

It was that same sensual impulse, stripped of Stanley's brutality, that informed his performance in On the Waterfront (1954) made three years after Streetcar. As longshoreman Terry Malloy, Brando uttered what have become some of cinema’s most famous words: “I coulda had class. I coulda bin a contender. I coulda bin somebody, instead of a bum, which is what I am, let's face it."

Some critics have said that in the years following Waterfront, Terry’s speech took on an ominous quality regarding Brando’s life and career. He was a difficult man to be sure. As a child he endured the abuse of his alcoholic parents. As a young man he came to fame much too suddenly. And once the world discovered him they would not let go. Relentlessly pursued, worshiped, vilified, his was no easy road to travel.

In the 60s he lent his fame and money to the civil rights movement, and his activism on behalf of Native Americans was legendary. None of which excuse some stupid moves and remarks he made later in life. Did early fame and earlier abuse put him completely out of touch with reality? Likely.

Marlon Brando belonged to a generation of actors who rejected the controlled British approach to acting and instead embraced the raw improvisational techniques of the Method. Elaine Stritch said: ''Marlon's going to school to learn the Method was like sending a tiger to jungle school.''

In 1964 Brando made a comedic romp called A Bedtime Story, wherein his low class smooth operator bounces off of David Niven’s high class gigolo. When those two characters first meet they engage in a discussion on the art of the pick up. Brando, unaware of the older man’s superior skills and mistaking him for a "picked peach" (married man), sets out to enlighten him. In his signature mumble he tells Niven:

“Let me put some new colours in your paintbox, Dad.”

That line says more about Brando's life and career than any of Terry Malloy's speeches. Marlon Brando sometimes made mud with his palette (The Island of Dr Moreau, some interviews) but he also gave us some exciting new colours, even in black and white (Streetcar, Waterfront).

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