Kazan On Directing
By Elia Kazan - Compiled and Edited by Robert Cornfield - Vintage Books © 2010
While Gadg (short for Gadget, a nickname he earned for being extremely useful to have around) is listed as the author, Kazan himself didn’t write the book in the traditional sense, it is instead a collection of his writings. At times it reads like a diary, at times a textbook. In my last bookshelf entry I shared my thoughts on Sidney Lumet’s excellent dissertation on directing entitled Making Movies, and his endorsement graces the cover of Kazan on Directing and perfectly summarizes the contents thusly, “To read this book is to sit with Kazan as he talks about his work. You feel his energy, devotion, and openness. You are given rare and fascinating access to the insights, and techniques, of a great director.”
Indeed you are. The first half of the book is made up of selections of Kazan’s journal entries - notes to himself - broken down by play. Each chapter includes a thorough introduction by editor Robert Cornfield, complete with a play synopsis, before offering the reader a deep dive into the mind and heart responsible for introducing the world to masterpieces like Death of a Salesman, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Sweet Bird of Youth, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, and A Streetcar Named Desire. You can jump around to your favorite plays or read them chronologically. Either way you’ll be left with a new appreciation for the level of dedication Kazan put into his work. He held himself to such a high standard, in fact, that his notes are often surprising in their candor and self-deprecation. But, of course, his subject matter demanded perfection. Tennessee Williams knew that Gadg was his best interpreter, and although Kazan only directed three of Arthur Miller’s plays - All My Sons in 1947, Salesman in 1949, and After the Fall in 1964, editor Cornfield describes their association as “one of the splendid markers of 20th-century achievement in drama.” And for good reason: Salesman was awarded the New York Drama Critics’ Circle Award for Best American Play, the Tony Award for Best Play, the Donaldson Award for Best Play, the Pulitzer Prize for Drama, and for Kazan, the Tony for Best Director.
Kazan surrounded himself with brilliance during his stage days and without him we may never have heard of a certain brooding force-of-nature by the name of Brando. The first half of the book also introduces us to many familiar names in the lexicon on stage genius. Kazan was an early member of the Group Theater and just a few pages in, we’re introduced to Stella and Luther Adler, Sanford Meisner and Clifford Odets. A few more pages on we meet Harold Clurman, Frederick March, and Montgomery Clift, Ann Sheridan and Ed Begley. Tennessee Williams and Arthur Miller appear frequently, then Jessica Tandy and Karl Malden make their grand entrance, alongside Brando in the role that would put him on the map on both stage and screen, the frustrated, ever-primal Stanley Kowalski.
Brando was nominated for an Oscar for the film version of A Streetcar Named Desire and Kazan for directing. Neither won, but the film did earn four Oscars, and Kazan would go on to win best director in 1955 for On the Waterfront and again in 1956 for East of Eden.
The section on his films covers about one fourth of the book, the third quarter we’ll call it, and mirrors the first half in its depth and personal content from Kazan. We watch as his technique for directing changed, but certainly not the high standard he set for himself and those around him. Arthur Miller called him a master technician and in the section that follows film, The Pleasures of Directing, Kazan lays out, in speech form, delivered to the students of Wesleyan University, in 1973, the list of things a director needs to know. And it is literally EVERYTHING. From literature to history, vaudeville to opera, lighting to costuming, and psychology to erotica, Kazan implores his audience to remain ever curious, students of life.
My favorite part of the book begins at page 249 and runs for just 40 pages. At age 79 Kazan began writing a book on directing he’d been considering for some time, a book on the joy and fun of directing, simply titled, The Pleasures of Directing. It’s fun alright, and it’s also like wrapping your lips around a firehose. His philosophy and technique come at your fast and furious and Kazan’s passion for his trade leaks from every word. If you’ve ever considered directing, this section will both exhilarate and terrify you.
“There is only one way of looking at this trade,” he begins. “The filmmaker is responsible for everything. To rephrase that thought: Everything is your fault.” And a paragraph later, “Final and absolute authority? That is not only a heavy obligation, but it is just the way we want it.”
When it comes to reads about stage and screen, this book is just the way I want it. Part technique, part autobiography, broken down into bite size sections, yet so dense with wisdom you’re lucky to fit a bookmark between the pages.
Esteemed writer, playwright, director, and producer George Stevens Jr., lent his praise to the book saying, “Elia Kazan possessed a treasure trove of knowledge about acting and storytelling. What a gift it is to have his ideas between the covers in Kazan on Directing.”
A gift indeed.
Kazan on Directing, edited by Robert Cornfield and with forward by John Lahr and preface by Martin Scorsese, and is available now everywhere fine books are sold.
