Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1957)

« ( Continued jrom page 59) associates, continually demanding extra effort in every scene. Throughout most of the evening he sat alone, as though brooding over some excruciating inner dilemma. He was not drunk, as has been reported. The fact is, Clift is not a drinker; one or two highballs intoxicate him almost immediately. Around midnight he decided to leave. Neighbors later reported hearing loud, angry voices at that time, but upon being questioned closely, they said that the voices might have been more “excited’’ than irate. Clift had said he would follow Kevin McCarthy’s car down to the point where Benedict Canyon spills into Sunset Boulevard. That was reassuring to everyone present. Clift’s friends were worried about him; most of his friends are continually worried about him. He seems to have well-defined tendencies toward selfdestruction. The two cars departed. A few minutes later there was a shattering, ear-splitting crash, and immediately afterward McCarthy reappeared at the Wildings’ house. He said that Clift’s car had had a terrible accident. He rushed to the telephone to call for assistance. Miss Taylor suddenly screamed, “Monty! Monty!” and started to run outside. The others tried to hold her back, but she was not to be held. Clift had missed a turn. His car had smashed into a roadside tree. It was a mass . of twisted wreckage, ready for the junk heap. Dr. Rex Kennamer, a doctor regarded highly in the West Los Angeles area, arrived in a short time. He found Clift still in the front seat, bleeding profusely from cuts on the face. Miss Taylor was holding his head in her lap, making comforting sounds between sobs. Dr. Kennamer later declared that it was a miracle the actor had survived his crash. “We were sure he was dead,” McCarthy later reported to a young actress friend, Barbara Gould. “We couldn’t understand how a man could bleed so much and still live. There were even pools of blood on the road.” Clift suffered a brain concussion, severe cuts of the face, a fractured jaw and a badly broken nose. For a time it was feared that his face would never be sufficiently mended for him to be a movie star again. As they were taking him out of the car, Clift came partially back to consciousness. His eyelids fluttered and he began to mumble. His words were later reported by one of the men who helped extricate him from the wreckage. They were indistinguishable at first, but then one phrase became audible: “If only I’d been able to do it. If only I could have done it . . .” Then he lapsed into unconsciousness and they took him off to the hospital. What he meant he could not — or would not — later explain. Montgomery Clift has a determinedly reticent nature and an apparent unwillingness to evaluate himself in realistic terms. Perhaps he was reluctant to face the possibility that he wanted to harm himself severely. Clift at that time was a disturbed human being. Many of his friends were saying, “Monty is his own worst enemy. He seems to loathe himself.” Other events that happened after his recovery, when he had gone back to work on “Raintree,” seemed to bear out those statements. As shooting progressed, Clift’s awkward, graceless movements seemed to make him easy prey for accidents. “Monty is the worst-coordinated man I’ve ever seen,” Monty's Brush with Death said Millard Kauffman, writer of the “Raintree” script. Apparently this was right. One morning in Natchez, Mississippi, Clift started running for the limousine that was to carry him t« the “Raintree” location set. At the same time, a young girl ran up to ask him for his autograph. Clift slammed into her and knocked her down. The girl suffered a sprained ankle. Later, on the set, Monty tripped over a rock and fell flat on the ground, sustaining a slight cut over his left eye. In Danville, Kentucky, he stumbled again and broke his toe. The latter accident was only one of many delays in the shooting of the picture. It infuriated his co-workers. “All right,” one said later, “so he’s got a broken toe. So he’s out for a couple of days and then goes back to work. That doesn’t make him a hero. If he hadn’t been so careless, he wouldn’t have broken the toe in the first place.” Eva Marie Saint, who was in Danville with the company, reports that many times she had cause to worry over Clift’s seeming disregard for his own safety. “There was one scene where he had to run and swing aboard a moving train,” she says. “He began running for it, and I couldn’t look. I was certain he was going to miss. It didn’t seem possible that he could make it but, thank God, he did.” When Clift’s minor injuries caused delay in shooting, he was frantically apologetic LUX THEATER For television drama at its best Every Thursday, 10 p.m. Eastern Standard Time to cast and crew alike. One day he came down with a severe toothache that later proved to be an ulcerated jaw. “He went around explaining it to everybody,” one sound man says. “And it seemed to me that in the very explanation he was relishing the fact that he was in pain.” Clift is extraordinarily soft-skinned. “His emotions,” says one friend, “are just beneath the surface. He’s as sensitive as an overbred kitten. We were watching some ‘Raintree’ rushes in the projection room one day, when all of a sudden a terrible, racking, death-rattle of a sob broke out of him. Even though it was his own performance he was watching, he was so moved he had to rush out of the room.” Such mysterious, compulsive behavior is all the more bewildering when one considers that Clift ought to be at the peak of his powers. He has one of those faces which seems to improve with age. “Women go for that drawn, haggard look more than they go for the clean-cut type,” says Kendis Rochlen, the Los Angeles columnist. Many agree. Monty, however, finds a certain disadvantage in his looks, despite feminine approval. “He feels he’s getting typed,” says a friend. “He’s always playing tbe brooding, unhappy kid — the Monty Clift type, you might say. He wants to do something more challenging.” Still, every role challenges him, within its limits. Actors who have worked with Monty attest to the fact that he is hard on himself. The truth seems to be that Clift’s odd > approach to life is rooted in emotional turmoil. There are a few keys to his present personality, though they are difficult to find. His parents, immediate family and close friends have entered into a tacit understanding which forbids them from ! discussing him frankly. Nevertheless, what stands out is striking. Edward Montgomery Clift was one of a pair of twins born to Ethel and William Brooks Clift on October 17, 1920, in Omaha, Nebraska. His twin sister, Ro j berta, is now Mrs. Robert McGinnis ol ! Austin, Texas. His older brother, William Brooks Clift, Jr., is a television producer in New York City. Monty’s father has always been a business executive — first a banker, later an investment counselor. After working in a bank in Omaha, the senior I Clift went on to other financial positionsin Kansas City, Chicago, and eventually New York. “We are very conservative people, be 1 cause of my husband’s business,” Mrs. Clifi said recently. “We do not like to discuss our private affairs for that reason.” Mrs.. Clift did say, however, that in her i opinion Montgomery was a normal child But she added that he had always been ; thin, highstrung and extremely impressionable. His sister confirms this view She declares that on occasion, when Monty’s mother was reading him a story the boy would become so aroused that he would burst into tears. But neither his sister nor his mother feel that Monty’s i sensitivity was in any way connected with his home life as a child. They believe thai he was “nervous” from birth. A doctor in Hollywood who once mei and spoke at length to Clift concludes. “Obviously, the young man is the producl of a childhood in which he felt he was noi getting his due of love and affection. This is often the case with twins; one will feel that the other is getting all the attention It is also familiar in the case of children whose brothers or sisters are not much older. Clift’s brother Brooks is only aboul eighteen months older than the twins Furthermore, the parents led an active life They moved around a good deal and often went to Europe on long visits. Continuous travel can operate to the disadvantage oi the insecure child.” Clift himself once remarked to reporter Eleanor Harris, “I call all that traveling a hobgoblin existence for children. Why weren’t roots established? Look at my brother. He’s been married three times.” In one sense, the “hobgoblin existence” actually worked to Monty’s benefit. A craving for affection frequently brings out talent which perhaps might not develop i) ! the person were altogether adjusted to life 1 By becoming an actor, Clift was not only j bidding for attention outside his family, but also striving to prove his worth within it. He himself admits that his desire to go on the stage was rooted in a need to compete with his sister and older brother. He was thirteen when the decision was i made. His father had had a financial disaster and needed to do more traveling than ; ever to get back on his feet. He decided to establish a residence for his wife and children in Sarasota, Florida. While there, young Montgomery heard of an amateur group that was putting on a play called “As Husbands Go.” He went around to find out “if they had any parts for boys.” ; They did. His career was launched. The conservative William Brooks Clift was never altogether happy with his son’s choice of a career. Acting, he pointed out,