While a modest hit and the bringer of a career Oscar for Inge, "Splendor In The Gas" in fifties social relevance drama running on fumes; a picture that labors mightily to be a little moving. Beatty is fine in his first film, it was probably enough to make him a star. Natalie Wood is caught straining, too little is given her wild mood swings in the way motivation. Pat Hingle is method hammy in the most one dimensional of the film's characters.
The films last quarter, where the cliche's are given some balance (though we learn the two worst have predictably perished by their own folly) and the pain is reconciled, is probably it's best. The poetic coda is too trite but does not offend.
Kazan would never find his way into the sixties, and while some misbegotten projects would follow, he was finished as a creative force. His capitulation with HUAC left him something of a pariah in Hollywood, but he never found a real handle on the medium beyond brilliantly executing the written word, and the medium was going beyond that.
The films last quarter, where the cliche's are given some balance (though we learn the two worst have predictably perished by their own folly) and the pain is reconciled, is probably it's best. The poetic coda is too trite but does not offend.
Kazan would never find his way into the sixties, and while some misbegotten projects would follow, he was finished as a creative force. His capitulation with HUAC left him something of a pariah in Hollywood, but he never found a real handle on the medium beyond brilliantly executing the written word, and the medium was going beyond that.