He That Troubleth His Own House Shall "Inherit the Wind"

Fredric March and Spencer Tracy.

Based on the celebrated stage play by Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee, this 1960 film adaptation is a fictionalized account of the Scopes Monkey Trial of 1925. In that landmark case, renowned attorney Clarence Darrow defended John Scopes, a Tennessee schoolteacher prosecuted for teaching Darwin’s theory of evolution. William Jennings Bryan, a former Presidential nominee and Secretary of State assisted the district attorney. In the play and film, the names have been changed, although opposing lawyers Henry Drummond (Spencer Tracy) and Matthew Harrison Brady (Fredric March) are clearly based on Darrow and Bryan.

Dick York played the defendant.

Tracy and March, both in the twilight of their distinguished acting careers, give powerhouse performances. March portrays Brady as an overzealous evangelist determined to wear down detractors by the sheer strength of his convictions and the power of his voice. However, he is also a man clearly torn by common decency (represented by his wife) and his overwhelming drive to win a last big case. When the local minister whips a crowd into a lynching frenzy, it is Brady who calms them down. Yet, the very next day, he betrays the trust of a young woman in the courtroom.

Gene Kelly in his best dramatic role.

Tracy’s Henry Drummond is the opposite of the flamboyant Brady. His goal is to preserve the law—its very consistency, which is threatened by unreasonable state statutes like the one that prevents a schoolteacher from teaching Darwin's theory. Grim, but as determined in his low-key way as Brady, Drummond represents the moral center of the film (Brady is the Conservative and Gene Kelly’s cynical reporter the Liberal).

The other major character in Inherit the Wind is the town of Hillsboro. Director Stanley Kramer expertly shows the town’s transformation from quiet hamlet to frenzied carnival, complete with side shows, hucksters, and a ferris wheel. Even the courtroom is a circus, a media circus with reporters typing and sending reports on telephones during the trial.

Kramer stages these courtroom theatrics with an astonishing attention to detail. The stifling Southern heat hangs heavily over the room—people actually sweat…profusely. Kramer carefully positions his camera to capture contrasting actions in the same frame. It’s a textbook example of how to adapt a stage play to film, although a couple of talky scenes could have been trimmed.

The film's title comes from Proverbs: “He that troubleth his own house shall inherit the wind.” Ironically, it is Brady that paraphrases this moral, cautioning that one can be “overzealous to save that which you hope to save, so nothing is left but emptiness.”

Spencer Tracy received an Oscar nomination for Best Actor. The film also earned Academy Award nods for screenplay, editing, and cinematography--though it didn't win in any category. The play has been adapted for television three times with Drummond and Brady being played by: Melvyn Douglas and Ed Begley in 1965; Jason Robards and Kirk Douglas in 1988; and Jack Lemmon and George C. Scott in 1999. On Broadway, the roles were originated in 1955 by Paul Muni as Drummond and Begley as Brady. Muni had to drop out temporarily due to cataracts and was replaced by Melvyn Douglas.

John Frankenheimer Counts Down "Seven Days in May"

John Frankenheimer followed his classic The Manchurian Candidate (1962) with this equally original political thriller. Rod Serling’s taut screenplay interweaves the stories of three men: President Jordan Lyman (Fredric March), whose popularity has plunged as a result of pushing for a nuclear arms treaty with Russia; General James Mattoon Scott (Burt Lancaster), the influential, egotistical head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff; and Marine Colonel “Jiggs” Casey (Kirk Douglas), a key member of Scott’s staff.

The still-timely political debate is neatly conveyed in the opening scene of protestors marching outside the White House. One group is holding up signs that proclaim: “Peace on Earth or No Earth at all!” The other protestors wave posters with slogans like: “Don’t ban the bomb Stupid—Ban the Treaty.”

The President.

After this prologue, Colonel Casey sets the plot in motion when he learns of a top secret message involving a Preakness Stakes betting pool. Later, he meets Colonel Henderson, an old friend, who makes an odd comment about his Army unit: “It’s funny…we spend more time training for seizure than prevention.” Casey continues to collect more unusual clues—none of which means much individually. However, they slowly lead him to a stunning realization that has ramifications upon the very nature of our democracy.

Part mystery, part suspense film, Seven Days in May is a rare motion picture in which the outcome is always in doubt until the climax. That uncertainty is a testament to Frankenheimer’s craftsmanship as a filmmaker. He also excels in making excellent use of his settings and in making time an important element in the film. Frankenheimer gives us a complete tour of the nation’s capitol—from the Pentagon’s chambers to the President’s study to dark alleyways where deals are made. And, after cueing us into the fact that something will happen on Sunday, he counts down each day, leading his characters to their inevitable confrontation.

The General.

In Serling's screenplay, President Lyman and General Scott initially appear to be polar opposites. Scott comes across as a strong, charismatic leader convinced that a nuclear threat is the only way to hold the Soviet Union in check. Lyman, on the other hand, seems bland, weak, and unpopular (his approval rating is a disasterous 29%). Lyman can't even convince his own military leaders that peace is the best option. However, as events unfold, these initial perceptions are put to the test. One realizes that Lyman's conviction to stay his course despite an onslaught of criticism is a testament to his inner strength. In contrast, Scott's impatience and ego propel him to attack the very foundations of our country, using its best interests--as interpreted by him--as an excuse.

The man in the middle.

Though March and Lancaster are compelling as the protagonists, Kirk Douglas grounds the film with his excellent performance as Jiggs. It's a great role, as Jiggs is the man in middle whose compass shifts from one man to the other--as the audience moves along with him.

Seven Days in May represented a career peak for director John Frankenheimer. He continued to make interesting movies in the 1960s with The Train (1964), the cult classic Seconds (1966), and Grand Prix (interesting from a technical standpoint). However, his career faltered in the 1970s, with critics drubbing Prophecy (1979), an entertaining monster film with an environmental message. Toward the latter part of his career, he earned recognition again with well-reviewed made-for-cable films.

Ironically, Seven Days in May was remade as the 1994 cable movie The Enemy Within, but it was not directed by Frankenheimer. The cast featured Sam Waterston as the President, Jason Robards as the general, and Forest Whitaker as Casey.

Corporate Politics Take Center Stage in "Executive Suite"

I first saw Executive Suite in an unlikely setting: a broadcast manage-ment class at Indiana University in 1978. I don’t remember how the film pertained to the class (or if the professor just wanted to take a break from lecturing). But the film, an engrossing look at corporate politics, stuck with me over the years. I didn’t see it again until my wife and I discovered a copy at a local video store in the 1990s. This second viewing surprised me—Executive Suite was far better than I remembered.

The opening scene, shot in first-person, has business executive Avery Bullard entering a skyscraper, taking an elevator, and sending a telegram to his board of directors about a meeting at six o'clock. Bullard then leaves the building, hails a taxi, and keels over dead. It’s a terrific sequence, all the more effective for its lack of music (which is replaced by bells and street sounds).

We quickly learn that the 56-year-old Bullard was president of Tredway, the nation’s third-largest furniture manufacturer, located in Millburgh, Pennsylvania. After the death of his second-in-command, Bullard delayed in naming a successor. As a result, Bullard’s untimely death places the company in the hands of five vice-presidents with equal authority. Since Wall Street viewed Tredway as a one-man company, the VPs realize the criticality of naming a replacement to Bullard over the weekend.

Walter Pidgeon tries to reason with Barbara Stanwyck.

Loren Shaw (Fredric March), Tredway’s

ambitious VP of finance, quickly starts lining up the required votes to become the company’s new president. But his “profit first” approach clashes with the philosophy of board members Fred Alderson (Walter Pidgeon) and Don Walling (William Holden). They believe that investing in research and producing quality furniture will attract loyal customers and, eventually, generate long-term company growth. Alderson and Walling launch a frantic drive to find their own candidate capable of defeating Shaw. Blackmail, illegal stock trading, and a spurned lover all come into play before the board of directors finally selects Avery Bullard’s succesor.

I admit a penchant for movies where the plot builds to a event scheduled for a specific time (e.g., the assassination in Day of the Jackal). Director Robert Wise, one of Hollywood’s most versatile directors, expertly shapes Executive Suite into a “time ticking” film. As the clock counts down to the climatic vote, it’s fascinating to watch alliances shift and deals fall through. It’s equally compelling to follow the philosophical underpinnings of the decisions made (e.g., profit vs. quality, traditional methods vs. new ones).

It's all about profit according to March's Shaw.

The superstar cast includes Holden, Pidgeon, Barbara Stanwyck and June Allyson. For my money, the standout performances are delivered by Fredric March and Paul Douglas. After two decades as a leading man, March gave some of his best performances in supporting roles in the 1950s and 1960s (see also Inherit the Wind and Seven Days in May). He captures the ruthlessness and the impatient frustration that makes Shaw such a vivid character. Paul Douglas is equally good in a smaller role, as a confident executive who gets backed into a corner. It’s a nice change-of-pace for Douglas, who specialized in playing nice guys in comedies like The Solid Gold Cadillac and It Happens Every Spring.

Executive Suite is often compared with 1956’s Patterns, another boardroom drama that was adapted from a Rod Serling TV play. Most critics prefer Patterns, which we finally saw in the late 1990s. We find them hard to compare; they’re two very different films, each fine in its own right. Patterns may be the more realistic of the two, but Executive Suite offers an optimistic viewpoint that works better as sheer entertainment.