Kaplan, Donald M. “Homosexuality and American Theatre: A Psychoanalytic Comment.” The Tulane Drama Review, 9.3 (Spring, 1965): 25-55. The MIT Press. University of Pennsylvania Library, Philadelphia. 7 April 2008. <http://hdl.library.upenn.edu/1017/6965/2>.
In this article, Kaplan comments on the increased display of homosexuality in American theater, and tries to explain why this change had come about by 1965. It is important to note that, as taboo as homosexuality may be today, in the 1960’s dialogue regarding the subject was simply unmentionable. Not half as much research on the “true” factors for a homosexual being had been conducted, while the limitations on a homosexual’s “mentality and creative vision” were far more pervasive. Nevertheless, Kaplan opens his discussion with a quote straight from Elia Kazan (an artist who’s sexuality, he believes, is “questionable): “The whole concept is rather thrilling, the realization of a dream. In the few days that we have been working together I have had more fun than I have had in years.” This “realization,” Kaplan states, is the transformation of a homosexual’s dreams into reality—a reality that is becoming more and more popular in modern America, he believes. Unfortunately, Kaplan quickly seems to contradict this “modern” notion by defending homosexuals through the “verified” results of outdated ink-blot tests; nevertheless, he quickly goes on to discuss both scientific and social beliefs regarding the notion of sexuality.
Tennessee Williams was one of these homosexual artists whose dreams have been realized, and while the Streetcar film has toned down many of its intended homosexual undertones, the original version is almost blatant in its discussion of homosexuality. Kaplan criticizes the play for its “Me-Tarzan-You-Jane” sexuality when it comes to Stanley’s relationship with both Stella and Blanche, citing the unrefined terms “making out” and “getting those colored lights going on” as crude representations of heterosexual relationships. However, Blanche’s one true love happened to be gay. This “nervous, tender, uncertain boy” who wrote poetry is sympathetically portrayed, and is arguably a pivotal character in Streetcar’s synopsis. This fact proves Kaplan’s point that homosexual “rebellion against instinctual deprivation” is rapidly spreading in both American theater and cinema. It also sheds light on the changing face of what American authors were willing to write and what American audiences were willing to see.
Call#: Van Pelt Library PN1590.W64 D53 1997
alternative history to increasing realism; cited by Mary Ann Smart
Call#: Van Pelt Library PN3203 .H6 1967a
Call#: Fine Arts Library NA6821 .T44 2000
PARTIAL SYNOPSIS--> THE ENTIRE WORK IS TOO LONG TO POST THE ENTIRE THING!!!
The “Tragical History of Doctor Faustus” is referenced briefly in Ikiru, in the scene in which Watanabe meets the writer, but the play offers a richer understanding of the film if the two are seen as opposites of one another. The basic plot of the story is that a man sells his soul to the devil in exchange for all the world’s knowledge and eventually goes to hell for it. The two stories do share some similarities, for example, the known time of death of each character and the absence of God as a ‘way out, but it is the differences that allow for a deeper understanding.
The writer presents himself as a ‘free Mephistopheles,’ which sets up the initial comparison between the two works. The Mephistopheles analogy does not hold up, because the writer functions in a different manner than the demon Mephistopheles. The writer is not the keeper of all arcane knowledge and is admittedly not even a very good writer. His jaunt with Watanabe, through the nightlife of Tokyo, provides Watanabe with no deeper understanding of himself or his situation, which parallels with Faustus in that Faustus also gets ‘nothing’ in the end from Mephistopheles, because no knowledge in the world can save him from his fate. Watanabe actually comes to a similar conclusion, realizing that earthly pleasures will not cure his true pain, which comes not from the cancer, but from the knowledge that he has missed out on life. The false Mephistopheles, the writer, is the inversion of Faustus’s Mephistopheles and this analogical fowl-up has importance in its revelation that the film and play are inversions of one another.
Faustus’s search for knowledge leads to his downfall and arrival in hell, whereas Watanabe’s search for understanding leads to his salvation. The initial ‘Mephistophelean’ adventures of both Faustus and Watanabe are revealed to be fruitless, but it takes Faustus until the end of the play to realize it, but he is damned anyway, so it doesn’t matter. Watanabe thinks he is damned, but unlike Faustus, he has a path to salvation. The inversion here is that Faustus’s journey is a descent, while Watanabe’s is an ascent; this is a theme discussed in Goodwin’s analysis of the film.
The fact that the film’s Mephistopheles works for free could be Kurosawa saying that in a modern, secular society like Japan, the answers to man’s questions do not lie with God, but with man himself. Faustus was forced to turn to the ruler of hell in order to further his knowledge, but Watanabe, unlike Faustus, finds the knowledge within himself. He tries to find the answers he is searching for, the meaning to his life, in other people, like the female coworker, Toyo, but he discovers that he can only rely on himself for the answers. The gap in time between the two works may account for the difference in fate of the Protagonist (that is if you view them as complimentary pieces).


