If you asked anyone to describe Marlon Brando, you’d most likely get an imitation. Maybe it’s the puffy cheeks and a jaw thrust out in an attempt to mimic the voice of Don Vito Corleone petting an imaginary cat: “I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse.” Or a guy ripping at his shirt, bending backwards and screaming, “Stellaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!” Or the most famous monologue about boxing from On the Waterfront (“I coulda been a contender”) that Robert De Niro repeats at the end of Raging Bull. Some jokers would even throw out “Fwiends, Womans, Countwee-men,” better known as Marc Antony’s eulogy from Julius Caesar.
But could you describe Brando as an actor? Give it a try. Sure, you could simply call him the first of a long string of actors of the 1950s and 60s who became ardent followers of the acting technique that came to be known as “The Method”, and brought a whole new personal and emotional approach to acting no one had seen before.
It was the emotional depth and realism that marked many of Brando’s roles that would inspire actors for decades to come. With his breakthrough performance in Tennessee Williams’ A Streetcar Named Desire as the volatile and violent Stanley Kowalski, Brando put himself on the map. When Elia Kazan brought the play right out of the theater and onto the big screen, a star was born, but a reluctant one at that.
After playing Marc Antony and then a rebellious motorcycle gang leader in The Wild One, Brando blew the world away. Kazan brought him in to On the Waterfront to play Terry Malloy, a former boxer who blows the whistle on the head of the longshoremen’s union, a corrupt and murderous Lee J. Cobb. But this was no ordinary role. It required Brando to play a vulnerable man whose dreams of glory were dashed by his own brother. It was Malloy against the world and with the film’s bloody battle ending in his triumph, audiences (and the Academy, which awarded him the first of his two Oscars) were absolutely stunned.
The young Brando wouldn’t make a splash again for a long time, playing parts from Napoleon Bonaparte to a reprise of Clark Gable’s role as Lt. Fletcher Christian in a remake of Mutiny on the Bounty. He even dabbled in musicals, singing his way to Jean Simmons’ heart as Sky Masterson in Guys and Dolls.
Let’s fast-forward to 1972. A struggling director by the name of Francis Ford Coppola is asked by Paramount Pictures to adapt a gang aster novel by Mario Puzo into a film. He needs someone to play the patriarch, the boss, the Don, the father of four and godfather to many. He sits down with Brando, now at the ripe age of 48, who literally morphs into the character, stuffing his cheeks with tissues, slicking back his hair, and added a dollop of a Sicilian accent. The film was a massive success, going beyond the stereotypical “Mob” movie that had typified Hollywood efforts in years past. Brando earned another Oscar, but famously sent up Sasheen Littlefeather, a Native American, to accept the award and shame Hollywood and America as well, for their treatment of her people.
That’s when we all saw an aspect of Brando that was to become as legendary as his acting. His strange side began to show up in films as he took on movies like Last Tango in Paris and when he played the diabolically insane Lieutenant Kurtz in Coppola’s Apocalypse Now. He even mocked his turn as Corleone in The Freshman, a Matthew Broderick vehicle about a Komodo dragon. You heard right.
Brando retreated into a self-imposed exile from a Hollywood community that loved his acting but didn’t “get” him, emerging only sporadically to play Dr. Moreau or dance in a Michael Jackson video. And while he might be remembered for his antics, or the massively obese body of his later years, Brando will be lauded by actors, directors and audiences as one of the most inspired and inspiring actors of the 20th century. Ask any actor to list role models and the chances are that Brando will be among them. And all it took was three or four significant movies to change the direction of acting in the United States. That’s a feat that no one can imitate.