I know and appreciate your aversion to direction by a woman

Irene Mayer Selznick loved the theatre and after separating from husband-producer David Selznick in 1945, she embarked on a career as a theatrical producer. The first play she produced was Heartsong, which ended up being a big flop. Written by Arthur Laurents, the play premiered in February 1946, only to close again a month later. Heartsong was directed by Phyllis Loughton, a director Laurents had come up with after they couldn't get a "name director". Loughton proved inadequate, however, and was fired in the play's last week and replaced by Mel Ferrer.

Selznick's next production was Tennessee Williams' A Streetcar Named Desire. After seeing the play All My Sons which was directed by Elia Kazan, Williams wanted Kazan for Streetcar and urged his agent Audrey Wood and Selznick to do everything possible to secure him. Selznick also wanted Kazan but the director was initially uninterested. Only after being persuaded by his wife Molly, Kazan accepted the job. 

The contract negotiations between Selznick and Kazan didn't go smoothly. According to Selznick, the director demanded to "own a chunk of the show" in addition to his "usual fee and top percentage of the gross" and also wanted to be co-producer. Selznick refused and the initial negotiations fell through.

Irene Selznick, Elia Kazan and Tennessee Williams pictured above, and Williams with his good friend Margo Jones below.

Williams had originally recommended three people to Selznick to direct Streetcar: Kazan (his first choice), John Huston and Margo Jones. The latter (whom I had not heard of before) was a stage director and producer, best known for starting the regional theatre movement in the US. Jones was a very close friend of Williams and had co-directed Williams' play The Glass Menagerie on Broadway and also directed/produced another play of his, Summer and Smoke. 

When the initial negotiations with Kazan failed, Williams felt Jones was a serious candidate to direct Streetcar and asked Selznick to consider the option. Knowing that Selznick was against hiring another female director following the failure of Heartsong, the playwright proposed to co-direct with Jones, emphasising how well they worked together. Williams even went as far as to say that this alternative would even be "preferable" to "Gadge" (Kazan) directing alone. Here is the letter in which Williams put forward his proposal, probably written on 9 May 1947.

Dear Irene:

Just had a talk over phone with Audrey. I am leaving early tomorrow morning for the Cape.

Audrey told me Gadge's terms and I must admit - though I have no idea what directors ordinarily receive -  that these seem pretty stiff.

Irene, I don't think you have yet given sufficient consideration to the idea of direction by myself and Margo Jones. I know and appreciate your aversion to direction by a woman. However this would actually be direction by the author through a woman who is the only one who has a thorough interpretative understanding of his work. Also I think you must have observed how much direction is actually incorporated in the script itself. In writing a play I see each scene, in fact every movement and inflection, as vividly as if it were occurring right in front of me. However I could not direct by myself as I am insufficiently articulate. However with Margo I could. We have a sort of mental short-hand or Morse code, we are so used to each other and each other's work, and with Margo it would be a labor of love. Love cannot be discounted, even in a hardboiled profession, as one of the magic factors in success. I have a profound conviction that the two of us, working on this script, with you and Audrey and Liebling [Wood's husband and business partner] as a supporting team - could do something a little better with the play than any other single director, including Gadge. I felt that all along but pressed for Gadge because I felt at the outset that you were irrevocably prejudiced against another woman-director. Well, there is only one woman director and that's Margo. Regardless of what anyone says, I know she has the stuff - and her shortcomings are exactly what I am able to supply. With her I could also continue to function as a writer, during the rehearsals, but with any other - perhaps even Gadge - I don't think I would be able to achieve much more. I mean we have a way of stimulating each other.

Irene, this is not to be construed as pressure. I just thought - in view of the stiff terms offered by Kazan - that you should know that there is an alternative and it is in fact an alternative which I think is even preferable. Needless to say my direction would be gratuitous and Margo's terms would be negligible compared to the others.

I hope you will think about this. See you next week.

Love, Tennessee.

[Source: The Selected Letters of Tennessee Williams, Vol. 2: 1945-1957, edited by Albert J. Devlin and Nancy M. Tischler (2004)]

 

I wonder whether Selznick ever seriously considered Williams' proposal. At any rate, negotiations with Kazan resumed and a deal was eventually closed. Although not willing to share authority as producer, Selznick did compromise on the billing: "Irene M. Selznick presents Elia Kazan's Production of A Streetcar Named Desire." In addition she gave twenty percent of the show to Kazan while reducing her own share.

A Streetcar Named Desire opened on Broadway on 3 December 1947. It became a huge success and made an instant star of Marlon Brando. In 1951, Warner Bros. made a successful film adaptation of the play, again directed by Elia Kazan and with Brando, Karl Malden and Kim Hunter reprising their stage roles (Vivien Leigh replaced Jessica Tandy). Irene Selznick went on to produce several plays, including Bell, Book and Candle (1950) and The Chalk Garden (1955). I'm not sure if she ever worked with a female director again. 

Tennessee Williams and Elia Kazan with Vivien Leigh during production of the film adaptation of A Streetcar Named Desire.

"Do you have a stammer?"

Tennessee Williams' Pulitzer Prize-winning play A Streetcar named Desire (1947) ran on Broadway from 3 December 1947 through 17 December 1949. Directed by Elia Kazan, the original Broadway cast featured Marlon Brando, Jessica Tandy, Kim Hunter and Karl Malden. 24-year old newcomer Marlon Brando became a star playing the role of Stanley Kowalski, a role he would reprise in Kazan's 1951 film adaptation. Jessica Tandy (mostly known for her role as Rod Taylor's overbearing mother in The Birds (1963) and her Oscar-winning performance in Driving Miss Daisy (1989)) won a Tony Award for her role as Blanche Du Bois, but would be replaced with Vivien Leigh in the film version. 

During the long stage run, Marlon Brando and Jessica Tandy didn't get along. Tandy, who was 15 years older than Brando, was a classically trained actress and hated Brando's unpredictable, erratic way of acting, not to mention his mumbling on stage. Furthermore, she thought Brando was irresponsible and undisciplined. 

On 30 January 1948, after the play had run for two months, Tandy wrote a long letter to Brando, mainly criticising his speech and work ethic. Below you'll find part of her fascinating letter (due to copyright reasons, I will not reproduce the whole letter).

Transcript:

I have wanted to talk to you about things that actually don't concern me at all but that I feel very strongly about. I hope you won't take offense and I would like, first of all, to let you know that the only reason I feel concerned is that I like you tremendously and would like your life and career to go as well as possible. So, please understand and let me indulge myself in meddling in your affairs.

The reason I was a little cold with you when you came to apologize was not because you had been late for rehearsal --this can happen to anyone-- but because on each occasion you hadn't assumed the responsibility for getting to rehearsal yourself: the first time you relied on Western Union; and the second time on Mr. Lewis. This kind of casualness is bound to hurt you eventually and earn you a reputation for irresponsibility which I don't think managers or directors will tolerate, despite your unusual abilities.

If I have anything of particular significance to say to you, it concerns these abilities, this talent you were born with and which can mean a great deal to you and the theatre--but only if you are prepared to enhance it, to work with it, to take the trouble to control it. If you won't learn to do these things, it will go down the drain. I believe you have it in your power to be a first-rate actor and more than that, to be a great influence in the theatre. This can never happen if you are just going to be an actor who has to wait to be given parts by managements. In ten years' time, if you wish, you should be able to decide what you want to do, set about arranging the production, engaging the actors and being responsible-- in the manner of Olivier; but how is this to be possible if you are unable to learn discipline and responsibility?

-As mentioned above, Jessica Tandy was annoyed by Brando's manner of speaking, which is illustrated by the following excerpt:

Transcript:

Do you have a stammer? Or is it just something that happens to you on stage? I wish you would try to cure it. Believe me, it matters a great deal for it will narrow the range of the characters which you can play to ones that have the same characteristics as Marlon Brando and after a few years, you will be just repeating yourself instead of enriching your experience.

Source: The Hume Cronyn and Jessica Tandy Papers, Library of Congress

Thanks to the Library of Congress for providing the scans.