What fluff. Tennessee Williams is extremely hit or miss sometimes. Mostly miss. His flair for the dramatics is either completely amateur or really only meant for the stage. His work was deemed as "daring" because it dealt with risque issues like suicide, addiction, frank sexuality but he confronts those issues as if he's getting paid to endorse them. These characters dance around these oh-so-hot topics instead of the other way around. There's the alcoholic, the unloving father, the cheating wife, etc. It goes on and on like a merry-go-round of false emotion and boring declarations.
Richard Brooks adds zero to the play he helps adapt. "Oh, so you guys can memorize a script? hey, I think I know how to push record on this camera, too! YAAAAAY LET'S MAKE A MOVIE!!!!". The actors try their best to ring some truth out of the material. Notice how I said "try" because they mostly fail at those attempts. I have to give some credit to Burl Ives who manages to elevate his cliched sub-plot into something a little worthy of watching. The rest of the cast are forced into unconvincing southern accents while having to bark things like Big Daddy, Sister Mother, Big Mother, Gooper, MAGGGGGGGIIIEEE!!!! "I thought the inclusion of the ridiculous names would add to the southern charm and authenticity that I was reaching for." GREAT JOB, WILLIAMS. It really worked! No, really. This is everything I hate about hollywood film making. Tiresome and one-note characters slogging their way through predictable material with a ton of audience coddling at the end.
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