how long is a day?
by Douglas Messerli
Nedrick Young and Harold Jacob Smith
(screenplay, based on the stage play by Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee),
Stanley Kramer (director) Inherit the
Wind / 1960
Director Stanley Kramer, it is safe to say, was never known for his subtlety. Throughout his career he made pictures, most of them with underlying liberal themes, that out-rightly depicted battles between good and evil concerning racism, holocausts (both the Nazi murder of Jews and nuclear holocaust), intellectual freedom, and moral antipathy. He may not have always explored the complexities of good and evil, but watching his films you certainly knew on which side he stood.
One of Kramer’s most respected films, Inherit the Wind was based on the highly acclaimed play by my
friend Jerome Lawrence and his long-time collaborator Robert E. Lee that
presented a fictionalized version of the true-life trial in which a small-town
Tennessee teacher, John T. Scopes, was arrested for teaching Darwin’s Theory of Evolution in a state that had
voted that it was illegal to teach anything but Creationism.
The great lawyer, Clarence Darrow,
procured by the Baltimore Sun journalist
H. L. Mencken, argued for Scopes, while the famed three-time presidential
candidate, William Jennings Bryan, argued for the state. Using different names
for each of these now-renowned figures (Scopes was renamed Bertram Kates, played
by Dick York; Mencken was called E. K. Hornbeck, played against type by Gene
Kelly, Darrow became Henry Drummond memorably acted by Spencer Tracy, and Bryan
was renamed Matthew Harrison Brady, performed by Fredric March) as a fable of
sorts to attack the “kind of mind control,” argued Lawrence in a later
interview, of McCarthyism: “It’s not about science versus religion. It’s about
the right to think.”
To reiterate their concerns, the original playwrights added a romantic
interest in the form of Scopes’ girlfriend Rachel Brown (Donna Anderson), and
her firebrand, bigot father, Rev. Jeremiah Brown (Claude Akins). In order to
further humanize the great liberal Darrow, Lawrence and Lee hinted at a deep
friendship between the Darrow and Brady figures, particularly between Brady’s forbearing
wife Sara (Florence Eldridge) and Darrow. And to counteract some of the
gentility of
In short, the Lawrence and Lee work was an old-fashioned, slightly
creaky, well-made play that lasted for a long-running 806 performances following
its 1955 Broadway opening.
Kramer, true to his directorial limits, makes little attempt to open up the play to the cinematic world of time and space. Although he certainly does bring to the screen a more realistic depiction of the circus atmosphere that the trial created for its small Hillsboro, Tennessee town, most of the festivities that surround the event might have been successfully staged—except perhaps for the long and emphatically enacted religious parade, where choruses of Christian women stridently march through streets singing what seems like ninety choruses of “Give Me That Old Time Religion,” many of them bearing banners denouncing Drummond. In truth, the small southern town, according to many reports—although obviously supporting the religious values of Brady—were equally welcoming to Darrow and Mencken.
Although he may have been a top-rate film cutter, Kramer’s major cinematic technique is to set up the camera facing the action head-on or at a slightly skewed angle that allows more actors into his frame. And generally, the director seems to have nailed together scenes rather than sequencing them in the processor. Fortunately, once the characters enter the courtroom, overseen by the seemingly kindly but truly blind justice of Judge Mel Coffey (Harry Morgan), things vastly improve, primarily because of the great acting abilities—supported by the gentle manipulations of the plot—of Spencer Tracy and Fredric March.
If, in between, we must endure the pious hosannas and damnations of Claude Atkins and the gee-shucks, head down humilities of Dick York, the electric sparks fly the moment Tracy and March begin to sweat out their intellectual match. While Brady may be the better orator, speaking always in a kind of biblical oratory that sounds right even if it doesn’t make sense, Drummond, by far, is the better tactician, summing up his opponent to his own wife: “He would not have made a great president, but he would have been a wonderful king.” Refused the right to bring in outside scholars who might support Darwin, refused to be able to quote from Darwin’s book, Drummond makes it clear that there is only one thinking man in town, the man under arrest.
In real-life, Scopes was never even arrested, but the film, in fact, is about
arrestment, less the arrestment of
the body than of the mind. When Brady, in a friendly moment, ponders “Funny how
two people can start at the same place and move apart,” Drummond counters
“Maybe it’s you who have moved away by standing still.” Although the judge insists
that “the right to think is not what is on trial here,” Kramer makes it very
clear that that is precisely at the very center of the issue, that a “grid of
morality” has been placed upon behavior, something made even more evident in our
recent times with the continued demand in schools throughout the country that
if evolution is taught, so too must be Creationism, as if these two complete
contradictory views of the universe were to be given equal credence.
If he does not win the case—Scopes losses and is fined $100—he has won the cause by showing everyone just what a fool Brady is. Simple questions such as “how long is a day?” as described in the Bible, become deep traps of intellectual uncertainty, of which the close-minded Brady reveals, even to the seemingly uneducated citizens of Hillsboro, he is ignorant. Outraged by the small fine and lack of punishment for Scopes—in truth, Scopes received no fine, and Bryan had agreed to pay any fine accessed from the beginning—Brady attempts another blustery speech; but this time there is no one left to hear him, and outraged he falls into babble, simply listing the books in the Bible in their order, a school-boy exercise of a religious upbringing.*
Bryan died a few days later in his sleep; but on stage and in Kramer’s stage-bound film, he dies in the courtroom of a ruptured stomach; and in a simple wrap-up of a more complex life, Drummond reaching for both the Bible and Darwin’s book, carries them out of the courtroom as if he can live equally comfortable with opposing philosophies.
But it is Hornbeck’s cynicism that, finally seems to win out, as he
asks: “How do write an obituary for a man who has been dead for 30 years?” By
using the usually loveable dance man Kelly in this role, Kramer has shown,
perhaps, his real genius, forcing the audience into a kind of love-hate
relationship with this enigmatic journalist. Yet Drummond, in his ability to
see things through an historical lens, truly wins out: “A giant once lived in
that body,” he proclaims, redeeming, perhaps the fanatical monster we have just
witnessed, and, finally, adding a slightly more complex layering to this
historical work.
*In my childhood we attended a Lutheran church
in rural Iowa, and I recall the older Sunday School-going students reciting the
books of the Bible in just such a manner, the one who could name them all most
quickly winning the ridiculous contests. Even as a child, I simply could not
comprehend what madly naming the books of the Bible might mean about
comprehending them or even having read them. My childish mind simply could not
assimilate the value of this empty exercise.
Los Angeles, March 25, 2014
Reprinted from World Cinema Review (March 2014).
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