Tè e simpatia

Having experienced the 1950's as a child and then the 60's as an adolescent and a teenager, I have many mixed feelings about the era. I loved the music, many of the movies, the "Golden Age of Television", the relative safety for a kid, and the uncomplicated simplicity of the times. What I don't miss, however, are the oppressive, narrow-minded stereotyping and the stifling social conformity that were so prevalent during that period. So what if you enjoyed your own company and wanted to listen to phonograph records by yourself or, on impulse, even hopped the Number 8 bus to downtown Elizabeth, New Jersey where there were no fewer than four different movie theaters on the same block from which to choose, a really big deal at the time.

I didn't find this movie dated at all. Not only does it offer a glimpse of what life was like in the 1950's, which should have some historical significance to younger folks today, but its message regarding the stifling conditions of rigid social conformity is ageless. Although it is obviously a stage adaptation, praise goes to director Vincente Minnelli for so ably bringing it to the wide screen. The three leads, Deborah Kerr, John Kerr (no relation), and Leif Erickson, who all revived their original Broadway roles, are exceptional. I also loved the scene when Al (Daryl Hickman), Tom's socially pressured roommate, attempts to provide Tom with tips on how to appear more manly to the world. Norma Crane, who wonderfully played Golde in the film version of "Fiddler on the Roof", perfectly portrays the very cruel town harlot, Ellie Martin. Ironically, Edward Andrews depicts Tom's demanding father as anything but manly, perhaps intentionally. Be as I say, Tommy, not as I am.

While Tom at first appears to be the focus of the film, the stories of Laura and Bill Reynolds, his dorm house parents, slowly begin to overshadow Tom's miserable situation. This represents some excellent work by screenplay writer Robert Anderson, who also wrote first-rate scripts for "The Nun's Story", "The Sand Pebbles, and "I Never Sang For My Father." And what is Bill Reynolds doing at the end of the movie? Listening to phonograph records by himself. What's the matter with him? My only criticism is that it runs a bit long and could have been reduced in length without losing its powerful impact.

Deborah Kerr has always been one of the best actresses. Her beauty and wit have always gotten her pretty well rounded roles. "Tea and Sympathy" has done something else for her...It has made her a real human that we can all identify with and understand. She captured your attention with her every second on the screen. John Kerr, as Tom Lee, (the main character) is simply in the backdrop, carrying the story along as best he can. Within him we see a ridiculed boy whose over-femininity makes him the joke of his school. Even the teachers seem to gang up on him. Known as "Sister-boy Lee" he tries to 'become' a man, only to let himself down further. He is soon pitied and taken in by Laura Reynolds, the school master's wife, who is told to "Stay out" because she's not really "involved". The truth is she is deeply involved...Her husband is the main reason for this kid's pain. I don't want to spoil the ending for you so I will say this...Vincente Minnelli is a brilliant director. Deborah Kerr is a wonderful actress who's inner beauty matches her physical beauty. John Kerr really shines. This movie is worth seeing. It does skirt the topic of homophobia but it tells the story that we (when we were teens) can all tell, trying to accept who we are and not trying to be what we aren't.

Conformity is a drag, especially when it's imposed on someone. That is the theme of this movie. It's no joke being the target of a smear campaign, especially when the smearing is groundless. Overall, this is a good movie. John Kerr and Deborah Kerr give excellent performances as two persons who discover that they have a lot in common. Metaphors abound in this movie; characters take on sociological meaning. The movie is both subtle and powerful. The movie portrays the kind of repressiveness that can literally drive one to despair. Of course, being based a stage play, the movie itself is also stagy. Nevertheless, the actors succeed in bringing the story to life. Although the story revolves around the relationship between a married woman and a young teenage boy in a boarding school, it is more about the woman and less about the boy who is an instrument through which the woman gets in touch with her own feelings. The movie deals with this storyline in a forthright manner and for that reason alone this movie is worth watching. Kudos to Deborah Kerr for a marvelous performance.

Some of the comments here puzzle me, and really point out how people can see the same film and yet see entirely different films nonetheless.

Yes, Tea and Sympathy addresses homosexuality -- but there isn't a single bit of *actual* homosexuality in the film. It's not about actual homosexuality but about perceived homosexuality... and the fear thereof. It's completely obvious within five minutes that Tom Lee is completely in love with Laura, and there's nothing whatsoever in the film that suggests he might feel romantic or erotic attraction to men... nor is there anything whatsoever in the film that suggests that he's confused about whether or not he likes men (or men and women).

Of course, back in the fifties, most, really all, film language that dealt with homosexuality was coded. Things *stood* for homosexuality, rather than directly displaying it. So, one could be tempted to say that Tom Lee is a coded closet case. But, far too much of the script is explicitly about the external challenge of his being seen as, or feared to be, queer; while absolutely none of it is about an internal struggle with his orientation. He struggles with the perception (his own and others) of his masculinity, but nothing in the film indicates Tom himself might think he's queer.

And, again, his obvious infatuation with Laura permeates the whole film. He doesn't *stalk* her at the beginning because he needs a sympathetic ear...

And when she tries to set him up on a tea date with a girl, there's no sense that she fears Tom is queer, that she must straighten him out. But she *is* horribly concerned that they keep others from thinking it. She even has one line of dialog in which she speaks to him directly of the need to "nip this in the bud" or somesuch. Even in a 1956 film, it wouldn't make any sense to think that this woman would think a tea date would "straighten" Tom out; but it does make sense that she would believe it could be part of repairing his reputation.

The closest the film ever gets to suggesting the potential (much less the actuality) of Tom being queer is when Laura voices fears that Tom being treated "not like a man" could lead him to *become* unsure of himself as a man... If you want to infer she fears he *might* become queer because of this, there's room especially given the overall coding Hollywood demanded of such material, but, again, you've got everything else in the film to work against this interpretation. And it's an interpretation of what Tom *might* be in the future, not what he is in the timeframe of the film itself.

Furthermore, even this is only the perception of another character -- not Tom himself displaying any indication that HE fears he may one day "become" queer.

Tom's conflict revolves around his trying to navigate his way in the world as the *atypical* man he is, find his identity as a man, and be accepted as such... in a world that doesn't want to.

And it's *other* people, not Tom, who clearly (altho thru coded film language) see him as queer, or fear he might be.

And while I understand that Anderson's play was more forceful in suggesting that the housemaster was a repressed homosexual, it's *really* stretch to see it in the film version. The building blocks of the coding are there (yeah, he hangs out with the boys and roughhouses with them, and he neglects his wife), but the film also goes to considerable lengths to paint him as a "typical" man who's lost interest in his marriage once he's claimed his wife. What with that, and the context of a film in which the main character is so clearly painted as a perceived homosexual rather than as an actual one (even in potentiality), the coding is so incredibly watered down that it's really not even there at all, effectively.

Tea and Sympathy is a pretty compelling film about the definitions of masculinity and gender role enforcement and homophobia. It's really upsetting to see that homophobia and misogyny and incredible pressure to conform on screen, but it is compelling. Even if Minnelli turned out to be a horrible choice for director.

His avoidance of close-ups reveals him to be, in this case at least, what feels to me like a very selfish director. More than the topic, more than the writing, it's the performances of Kerr and Kerr that make this film. They are constantly having to fight Minnelli's apparent desire to keep them at a visual distance from us. I guess in a way it's a credit to both the stars and Minnelli himself that he could get such strong work from them despite the sparseness of close-ups that the film so desperately needed.

It's as if Minnelli thought that he was -- or should be -- directing a pageant rather than a drama. "Look, I can make even an intimate, human drama great in WIDESCREEN!!!" Except that you can't, Vincent. I don't care about you in Tea and Sympathy, Mr. Minnelli, I care about Tom and Laura. Give me the characters!

Matthew

Those who had the good fortune to see Deborah Kerr onstage in the Elia Kazan production of "Tea and Sympathy," will attest to her unforgetable performance. Kerr not only played it on Broadway but also toured with it, a treat for all attendees. Now nearly a half century later, her performance on film, which was very much influenced by her stage style, begins to show a little wear around the edges. It must be difficult to change one's approach after having played a role so successfully night after night. In this case, her inflections, accents, phraseology, pauses, gestures and the like are essentially theatre-based, designed to play to the whole house up to the balcony. In the intimacy of film, this becomes a bit much in the long run, and results in a much more broad, deliberate and stylized Kerr than in any of her other film work. Her character tends to emerge now more as a busy-body, snooper, peeping tom than was ever intended, and certainly it did not come across that way when the film was first released. A landmark film of sorts--for a major studio to tackle a sensitive subject in a major production--"Tea and Sympathy" benefits from a sincerely written script by Robert Anderson, solid direction by Vincent Minnelli and a secure supporting cast. Visually Deborah Kerr is beautiful, and is totally committed to both the play and her role. During her lengthy film career, Kerr certainly contributed a wealth of finely crafted performances.