pyrocitor
"I'M not racist, but
"Do your eyes roll and fists clench in frustration before the sentence has finished? Fear not - Gentleman's Agreement is on your side. You'd expect a 'Social Problems Picture' dating from the better part of a century ago to play as cornball, and adorably (or troublesomely) antiquated. Instead, it's sobering how, in a contemporary context, Elia Kazan's scrappy interrogation of the deeply harmful societal prejudices imbedded in seemingly innocuous or inconsequential gestures and comments plays as just as poignantly timely as ever. Seventy years on, Gentleman's Agreement has lost none of its robust, fierce urgency, remaining one of the most intelligent conversations on privilege, and how distressing societal imbalances can be carved by those unable to acknowledge it. Many Hollywood films profiling racism dive straight into tackling overt, violent hate crimes. Here, screenwriter Moss Hart, adapting Laura Z Hobson's groundbreaking expose of societal antisemitism, is bold enough to dig one step deeper, into the more subtle, pervasive forms of racial and religious discrimination proliferating in so- called 'polite society' - job hunting, risqué jokes, schoolyard bullying, and general passive- aggressively rude treatment. It's solemn stuff, but Hart's eloquent screenplay, while occasionally toeing the line of excessive 'staginess,' nimbly gets the point across without devolving outright into pedantic preaching. Kazan's direction is just as provocative, framing his film with plentiful New York establishing shots to firmly ground the problem with pervasive antisemitism as a here and now problem, not a distant epidemic easy to wave away. The hook entails Peck's brooding journalist spreading rumours of a falsified Jewish identity in order to 'method write,' believing himself to be better equipped to write about antisemitism when he himself has been subjected to its ugly underbelly. For many, the premise will sound warning bells of a reappropriative, saccharine saviour of the Jewish community, who dabbles in empathy only to shrug off its hardships and cloak himself with his privilege anew upon the closing credits. It's a fair concern, and one, thankfully, that Kazan and Hart anticipate and circumvent, with peppery reminders throughout branding antisemitism, and any other such religious and cultural discrimination, to be everyone's problem, and that those who allow it to subtly fester by allowing dubious comments or actions to pass unchallenged, as just as culpable. In one sardonic instance, a real-life conversation between Jewish industry executives urging the filmmakers to quash the film for fear of 'rocking the boat' makes its way into the script itself, lending it even more power and wry credibility. Occasionally, the film stumbles somewhat over its own noble intentions. To make its point, Peck's compacted experience is a touch clumsily over-exaggerated (though it's a sad realization that this heavy-handedness is ultimately necessary for the message to properly land, whether in 1947 or current day), and there's no denying that a contemporary viewing necessitates suspension of disbelief regarding the more exposition-heavy tropes of the time. Nonetheless, some of Peck's grim, sanctimonious lectures still verge on tiresome 'Mansplaining,' even for the 1940s. Even more curiously but poignantly, Kazan and Hall's reticence in grounding the film in its contemporary cultural context (the script does take pot shots at some of the more outspokenly antisemitic government officials of the time, but abstains from any mention of the Holocaust, or World War II at all, outside of John Garfield's chipper GI) shows how touch-and-go evasion of Hayes Code censorship was. Regardless, Kazan keeps the pace brisk, entwining Peck's experiences of discrimination around a burgeoning romance that, irksomely, might not be as safe from outside microaggressions as he'd hope. Though both he and Kazan have retroactively disparaged his work here as too hesitant, Peck proves an excellent fulcrum for the film's message to roll off. Curbing his legendary dignity and calm with a bristling righteous indignation, Peck's grimness suggests he rankles at the oppression - both that he and his family personally experience, but also in a macro sense - with every fibre of his being. His refusal to let in dregs of his legendary warmth do leave his performance as somewhat wanting in levity, but he's seething and charismatic enough to effortlessly win attention regardless. Similarly, Dorothy McGuire is superb as his impassioned fiancée, and McGuire is wise and skilled enough to remain fundamentally enigmatic, commanding audience sympathy while simultaneously keeping them at arm's length with just enough eyebrow-raising comments to continually postpone a consensus on her character's affability. Finally, John Garfield provides the welcome reprieve of boisterous charisma the film sorely needs, though many of its more unexpected, quietly resonant moments are grounded in watching his face imperceptibly shift to weary resignation coming to terms with the subtle and overt hardships he, as a Jewish citizen is invariably subjected to, war hero status and all. Many will criticize Gentleman's Agreement as being overstated, earnest, or corny in a contemporary environment. Sadly, its message remains as urgently topical as ever in a global climate rife with socio- political intolerance and hatred - both overt, and as knowingly nigh-imperceptible as the film's title. And if a Gregory Peck civil rights double-bill (this and To Kill A Mockingbird, of course) could serve as the cultural balm the world needs, or causes a single viewer to pause and reflect before uttering a politically dubious generalization over dinner, then Gentleman's Agreement is beyond intelligent, eloquent, and piercing: it's borderline essential. -9/10
daviddaphneredding
In this outstanding production from 20th Century Fox, prejudice is blatantly exposed, and the matter of apathy toward it is clearly shown as well-i.e., hardly anyone takes a strong stand. Gregory Peck is quite a fine actor is this piece as a widowed reporter who pretends to be a Jew to learn empirically the anti-Semitism attitudes which prevail in New York. (The setting is a moot point, since this attitude has world-wide application.) In the story the reporter becomes very passionate about the attitude of bigotry, so much so that he even becomes bitter toward the lady with whom he falls in love. Dorothy McGuire is such a sweet lady in this dramatic production that you would be unable to see how the reporter could be so terribly hostile toward her. John Garfield,(who himself plays the role of a Jew in this movie) Jane Wyatt, and Celeste Holm lend great support. Anne Revere adopts well the role of Peck's sympathetic and supportive mother. Dean Stockwell, here is his pre-teen years, plays well the role of Peck's son. Again, the matter of prejudice is blatantly exposed in this film, and because of the story and the professional acting, it is no wonder that this movie won the Best Picture Award for 1947.