Book Review--Elizabeth and Monty: The Untold Story of Their Intimate Friendship

 

Elizabeth and Monty: The Untold Story of Their Intimate Friendship 

Charles Casillo 

Kensington Books, 2021 

Elizabeth Taylor and Montgomery Clift had an unusual connection, particularly for Hollywood: a lasting, loyal friendship as intimate as a marriage, which endured throughout decades. In Elizabeth and Monty: The Untold Story of Their Intimate Friendship, Charles Casillo tells the story of their lives and how they supported each other through the best and worst of times. 

Taylor and Clift met while making the George Stevens film A Place in the Sun (1951). Elizabeth was a teenage MGM player, while Monty was at the time a bigger star and more seasoned as an actor. He taught her that acting was something to take seriously, but there was also an immediate, visceral connection between the two. For her it was passionate love, but eventually he made it clear that he would always prefer men sexually, though he deeply connected with women emotionally. 

The friendship that began on that production would last until death parted them, their loyalty to each other unaffected by distance, scandal, poor health, and the myriad disappointments that can complicated a life. They would make two more films together: Raintree County (1957) and Suddenly, Last Summer (1959), the latter due to Taylor’s instance that a troubled Clift be cast. Casillo explores the way their relationship changed, from Elizabeth’s early desire for Monty to the more enduring, soulful friendship that developed over the years. 

Much of the story here will be familiar to fans of Taylor and Clift. Casillo draws heavily on Patricia Bosworth’s Clift biography and Kitty Kelley’s biography of Taylor. Aside from these more familiar sources, there are some interesting tidbits; I especially appreciated the insight from director Edward Dmytryk’s unpublished manuscript The Making of Raintree County, which reflects a critical time in Monty’s life and in his relationship with Elizabeth. 

Of the first source interviews included in the book, the most revealing and touching memories come from actor Kevin McCarthy, who with his wife Augusta Dabney was a close friend of Clift’s, though the couple had to withdraw from him to a degree as his behavior became more dangerous and erratic. McCarthy’s point of view is important, because he was present for many of the key points of Clift’s life, from his start on the stage in New York, to the decline of his Hollywood career. Most importantly, he was a guest at Elizabeth Taylor’s house and was driving ahead of Clift down a twisting hill on the night he crashed into a tree, changing his face and his life. 

The book leans heavily into the sex and scandals in Taylor and Clift’s lives, seeming to squeeze every last bit of sensation out of those elements. While these are important and even formative moments in their story, the degree to which they were lingered upon felt excessive. 

I found the details of Elizabeth and Monty’s interactions more compelling. Their relationship was a fascinating combination of devotion and selfishness, tough love and absolute acceptance. While it was pure love that kept them close over the years, it is clear that a mutual understanding of the complexities of human relationships helped them through the rough spots. In the end, I saw their connection with more clarity and better appreciated how unusually strong their bond was. 

Many thanks to Kensington Books for providing a copy of the book for review.

Now Streaming: Making Montgomery Clift

When it comes to public opinion of Montgomery Clift, two images tend to dominate. One is of a celebrated, influential actor who coupled unusual sensitivity with traditionally masculine roles. The other is a Hollywood tragedy, believed to be haunted and destroyed by his homosexuality and a serious car accident during the production of Raintree County (1957) which permanently changed his appearance.

In the documentary Making Montgomery Clift (2018), which is now available to stream, Clift’s nephew Robert Clift and filmmaker Hillary Demmon thoroughly examine the actor’s life and the widely accepted tragic narrative about him. At the core of the film is a critical examination of the claims in two biographies of the actor: one sensational book by Robert LaGuardia and another more complicated bio by Patricia Bosworth.

So what is the truth about Montgomery Clift? Was he a tragic figure? Or was he a devoted craftsman who had an unfortunate end, but essentially thrived in his life? Clift and Demmon make a case for the latter and while it is always wise to tread carefully with documentaries where family are involved; there is good evidence here that they are at least somewhat correct.

Clift’s brother Brooks was obsessed with documenting his life, which extended to recording his phone conversations. While that habit seems unsettling in retrospect, the resulting wealth of information from Montgomery Clift himself is invaluable. In his talks with associates and loved ones, the actor shows himself to be intelligent, funny, and committed to being the best actor he can be. He was clearly fascinated by his profession and the life that his roles reflected.

Clift was also not ashamed of his homosexuality as has often been claimed. While the way the society of the time viewed gay men was upsetting to him and ultimately destructive, he found nothing wrong with his desires or in showing affection towards the men he found attractive. His enjoyment of life and love are evident in the conversations, film footage, and other memorabilia shown in the film. Interviews with friends and associates also reveal a man who found a great deal of contentment in life if not a smooth ride.

The film is not meant to be an exploration of Clift’s work, but as it was so intertwined with his life, there is a fair amount of coverage related to his films. He is shown to be completely fascinated by and devoted to his profession, always making choices that supported the integrity of his craft. Several sequences in which Clift’s notations on his scripts are shown side-by-side with the films he made prove how clear-thinking and perceptive he was when it came to how a role should be played.

This perspective on Clift’s life and career is juxtaposed with input from his own family, which struggled to tell the actor’s true story. From the frustration his mother Ethel Clift experienced being accused of damaging her son by keeping him too close, to the fruitless battle Brooks fought with the publishers of the Bosworth biography to correct significant inaccuracies, there is a definite long-desired determination here to change the narrative where Monty is concerned.

I found those phone conversations, interviews with former associates, and script notes illuminating. Perhaps Clift was touched by tragedy, but his life contained a great deal more happiness and fulfillment than I previously thought and, most notably, was not destroyed by that infamous car wreck which has been said to have ruined him, but in fact came at the start of his most productive and satisfying time as an actor.

Whatever the full truth may be, Montgomery Clift was a fascinating, brilliant man who lived big and Making Montgomery is an interesting exploration of who he was versus how he was portrayed.


Many thanks to Team Click for providing a screener of the film for review.

Alfred Hitchcock's I Confess (1953) on Blu-ray

The swooning sadness of romantic yearning hangs over I Confess like a lonely specter. Not what I expected from an Alfred Hitchcock film, especially one featuring a priest and the Catholic church. This lesser known drama from the master of suspense is a departure for the director in many ways, though still familiar in theme and style. I recently had the chance to view the film on the newly-released Blu-ray from Warner Archive.

Montgomery Clift stars as Father Michael Logan, a priest who lives in the charmingly old-world Quebec City. Late one night, Otto, a German immigrant who works as a handyman with his housekeeper wife at the church where Logan lives confesses to his employer that he has murdered the man he gardens for on the side. The dead man turns out to have a significant connection to Logan and his former love the wealthy Ruth Grandfort (Anne Baxter), and he soon finds himself under suspicion for the crime. As a sharp-eyed police detective, Karl Malden is especially wary of this reserved man of the cloth. Still, though things don't look good for Logan, he refuses to tell the police what he knows about the crime.

Whether or not Father Logan will betray Otto isn't a significant part of the conflict, at least as Clift plays the role. Of course he will keep a secret told in confession, even if it means he will hang for it. This makes him a simultaneously passive and heroic character. Without the ability to expose the true murder, and also being unwilling to risk the reputation of his former love, he is forced to observe an unjust situation without comment. Nevertheless, he is strong, because he never wavers in his devotion to his vows, always sure of what he must do as much as he wishes to save himself. If he breaks his promise to his faith, his whole purpose in life will be destroyed, so why save himself?

Clift was a fragile soul, and he appears especially vulnerable in I Confess. While he plays a reserved, unemotional character, the actor is such a sensitive performer that he's able to say all that he needs to with a brief, eye-crinkling smile or a pensive flash of the eyes. No matter what role he played, those eyes always seemed to say "help", he was not the sort for heroic parts and he was well cast as the anxiety-ridden Father Logan.

That Clift was able to accomplish such a subtle performance is due to a careful balancing act on the set. Hitchcock didn't like the star's method acting, or the way his acting coach was always hiding in the shadows, waiting for the actor to look to her for approval. Monty's drinking problem would also complicate filming; especially in an emotional scene with Baxter where he was so glassy eyed the actress struggled to make a connection with her costar. The confrontation-averse Hitchcock relied on Clift's old friend Malden to intervene, and his advice to the actor helped keep the production on track.

Anne Baxter was a last minute replacement for Anita Björk, who horrified Jack Warner when she arrived in Hollywood with an illegitimate child and her lover. It was too soon after the Ingrid Bergman scandal to take the risk on the director's first choice. Baxter was clothed in Björk's costumes, agreed to dye her hair a lighter blonde per Hitchcock's request, and felt that perhaps she was not as pretty her director wished.

That sense of unease serves Baxter well. Though Ruth has married well, she still feels overwhelming love for Michael, whom she lost to the church after he got the calling while serving in World War II. She always seems to be on the edge of her seat, never relaxing into the life for which she has settled. Her dreams of Logan haunt her.

In their scenes together, it is heartbreaking to see Ruth overwhelmed with lust for a man who no longer belongs to her. The lush romance of their youth together has disappeared and she cannot find another path to happiness. As he potentially faces the loss of his own love, an enduring connection with the church, Logan seems to understand her grief.

From the supporting actors to the bit players, this is one of the more interesting casts Hitchcock has assembled. The sharp wit of Malden's inspector is a fine contrast to the more gentile gloss of Brian Aherne as Crown Prosecutor Robertson, who tries Logan's case. In a performance even more sensitive than Clift's, German actress Dolly Haas is heartbreakingly vulnerable as the murderous Otto's wife Alma. That name was a direct reference to the director's wife; the film is in many respects a tribute to her personal and professional support of her husband. I also enjoyed a pair of school girls in bit parts as witnesses from the night of the murder. The way they played off of each other was quirky, natural and a nice bit of humor in an otherwise deeply serious film.

Hitchcock makes effective use of the elegant Quebec City locations. The old world feel enhances the feeling of romance, both in the heat of the moment and when it is only a lingering memory. It is a novel setting to explore the director's common theme of the wronged man, its beauty a contrast to the darkness of the story.

I'm glad I finally saw I Confess. I enjoyed it more than I expected. While it is a well-crafted story with strong performances, I found that I liked it most because it put me under a sad, sweet spell, infused with loss and longing. While this sort of mood is unusual coming from Hitchcock, he managed that different tone well.

Many thanks to Warner Archive for providing a copy of the film for review. To order, visit The Warner Archive Collection.