another opening, another show
by Douglas Messerli
Richard Brooks (screenplay, based on
the novel by Sinclair Lewis and director) Elmer
Gantry / 1960
Yes, Gantry (brilliantly performed by Burt Lancaster) is a lying
scoundrel who sees religion as a better way to make a living than his previous
career as a salesman. But he’s such a handsome, smiling charmer, that you can’t
blame anyone, female or male, for falling for him. The saintly self-deluded
Sister Sharon Falconer (a character based on Pentecostalist Aimee Semple
McPherson), played by Jean Simmons, has little resistance when it comes to
Gantry, not only allowing him to pair up as a hell-and-damnation warm-up
speaker to her more gentle calls for spiritual salvation, but to join her in
the sack. And even the cynical newspaperman, Jim Lefferts (Arthur Kennedy),
despite his newspaper revelations of Gantry’s sham, clearly admires the man. A
former beau, Lulu Bains (Shirley Jones), who after Gantry abandoned her was
forced into prostitution, is still in love with him enough to jealously seek
revenge. Gantry is able even to sweet-talk the Zenith—Lewis’ mythical
Midwestern city—preachers into allowing him to take his unconventional
religious circus into their own territory.
In fact, in Gantry’s encounter with the Babbitt’s and the reverends of
that prosperous city, we perceive them to be greedier than he or Falconer is. At
least the revivalists work hard for their money.
In short, by allowing him such a winning personality and a deep commitment to love (as Gantry quotes: “Love is the morning and the evening star.”) Brooks has eviscerated his story. By presenting Gantry as simply a failed human being in need of salvation, the director has removed the devil from his sin. Despite the preacher’s hissing declarations—“Sin, sin, sin! You're all sinners! You're all doomed to perdition.”—everyone in this film except the Zenith city leaders seem pretty ordinary and blameless.
If we might have begun by imagining that this film would be a
denunciation or even a satire of the revivalist tradition—a fascinating idea
for a film that has yet to be made—we come out of this picture by being quite
amused by the whole tradition, as if it were all a good joke. As a “clean-up
man” muses, late in the film:
Mister, I've been converted
five times. Billy Sunday,
Reverend Biederwolf, Gypsy
Smith, and twice by
Sister Falconer. I get
terrible drunk, and then I get
good and saved. Both of them
done me a powerful
lot of good—gettin' drunk
and gettin' saved. Well,
good night.
The only thing Brooks reveals is
that the revival business is simply “another opening, another show.” Today it
has even infected politics: take another look at that real sinner Donald Trump.
Los Angeles, March 10, 2016
Reprinted from World Cinema Review (March 2016).
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