MAGNET contributing writer Jud Cost is sharing some of the wealth of classic films he’s been lucky enough to see over the past 40 years. Trolling the backwaters of cinema, he has worked up a list of more than 100 titles—from the ’20s through the ’80s—that you may have missed. A new selection, all currently available on DVD, appears every week.
East Of Eden (1955, 115 minutes)
James Dean’s cinema legacy hangs squarely on only three feature-film performances: as Jim Stark, a disaffected transfer student to a Los Angeles high school in Rebel Without A Cause; as Jett Rink, a surly ranch-hand of the cattle empire owned by Rock Hudson and Elizabeth Taylor in Giant; and as Cal Trask, the younger son of a Salinas, Calif., lettuce-farmer, intent on refrigerating his fragile crop on the way to market, in an adaptation of John Steinbeck novel East Of Eden.
Ignoring salutations, Kate (Jo Van Fleet) strides briskly into a Monterey bank and steps up to the teller’s window. “Another nice deposit. You are sure in the right business,” says the clerk, amiably. “I’m in a hurry!” snaps Kate as an employee behind the teller stifles a laugh.
Nicely dressed in a V-neck sweater and slacks, Cal (Dean) surreptitiously follows Kate back to a large, well maintained Victorian. “Come here, Ann,” she shouts to the char-girl scrubbing the front porch. “Ever see that kid out there before?” “He was in the bar last night,” Ann mumbles. Kate sends Joe, her bouncer/handyman, out to deal with the snooper who has just pegged a rock at the front door.
“Come here, ya young squirt!” demands Joe (Timothy Carey), fingering a blackjack in his back pocket. “What’s the idea of throwin’ that stone? And why are you followin’ Kate around?” Cal sniffles as bravely as he can muster, “Any law against following around the town … madam?” He barely gets the last word out. “You tell her I hate her.” Kate closes the lace curtains, as Cal runs away. He scrambles to the roof of a boxcar on a slow-moving freight where he wraps the arms of his sweater around his neck for the chilly 15-mile journey to Salinas. “I should have gone right in there and talked to her,” he chatters.
“Cal wasn’t home all night. Boy, is he gonna catch it from Dad!” says his older brother Aron (Richard Davalos) to his red-haired girlfriend, Abra (Julie Harris). “Know what the girls in class call him? The prowler,” she giggles. “Hi, Cal,” says Aron to his brother, lurking in the bushes. “Excuse me for talking,” says Abra as Cal wings a tree branch in her direction. “We’re going down to see the ice-house Dad’s buying,” says Aron. “Want to come with us?” A walking contradiction, Cal refuses—then comes anyway.
The 24-year-old Dean was killed in late 1955 while driving his new Porsche 550 Spyder from L.A. to Salinas—of all places—for a sports-car race, when he collided with a 1950 Ford, 28 miles east of Paso Robles. Nominated posthumously for an Academy Award, the unknown actor was found by producer Elia Kazan while searching for “another Marlon Brando.” In that regard, he succeeded, if briefly.
