Best Picture Winner: 1955

Marty (1955)

As someone who didn’t meet Ms. Right until he was 33, I was especially moved by Marty. In 1955, if you were Marty’s age – 34 – your marital prospects were somewhere between slim and none. Today, of course, people do get married later. But that does not mean there aren’t lonely souls out there who desire, as Marty does, to find love.

Marty Piletti (Ernest Borgnine) is a butcher in an Italian neighborhood in New York. He lives with his mother (Esther Minciotti) and spends Saturday nights hanging out with his best friend Angie (Joe Mantell). At his mother’s urging, Marty attends the Stardust Ballroom where he notices that a homely schoolteacher, Clara (Betsy Blair), has been deserted by her date. When Clara leaves the ballroom to cry, Marty follows her and asks her to dance. The two are attracted to each other, but this does not sit well with Marty’s friends – or his mother, who has changed her tune about Marty’s marriage because her sister Catherine (Augusta Ciolli) has been forced out of the small apartment she shared with her son and daughter-in-law.

Marty’s themes are as relevant today and they were fifty years ago. Marty wants love, but feels his physical traits (“I’m a fat, ugly man.”) will prevent such a relationship. Clara is called a “dog” by Marty’s friends, none of whom can claim a Mr. America title themselves. Marty’s mother fears she’ll be abandoned if Marty does move out. And Marty’s cousin Tommy must make the tough choice of asking his mother to move out because she is making life difficult for Tommy’s wife. All of this is handled with gentle humor and understanding. But there is much truth here with regards to the old, the middle-aged, and the young.

Ernest Borgnine delivers an Oscar-winning performance, and makes the pain and hurt Marty’s feeling truly palpable. Marty is a decent, honest person who is easy to root for. An absolutely charming scene has Marty walking with Clara to get some coffee and he cannot shut up. Even when he realizes he’s talking too much he cannot close his mouth. It’s a funny, thrilling scene because we know Marty has finally made a connection and we feel his excitement.

Delbert Mann directs in a simple, unflashy style, letting the cast deliver Paddy Chayefsky’s wonderful dialogue. But perhaps the most powerful scene in the film is one with neither camera movement nor dialogue. At the ballroom, Marty knows Clara is about to be dumped. Mann’s camera remains stationary as Clara’s date goes over to Clara who is seated alone to tell her he’s leaving. Marty can be seen watching as this happens. The only sound we hear is the band’s music. The date leaves and for what seems like agonizing minutes we watch as Clara sits humiliated while Marty stands still trying to decide what to do. We can sense what both characters are thinking, and our hearts ache for Clara. There is such emotion and power in these few moments that it’s a relief when Marty makes his move and asks Clara, who has run to a deserted balcony, to dance.

Since we live in a culture that, more so than in the 1950s, is obsessed with youth and beauty, Marty has lost none of its ability to tug on the heartstrings. Marty is a romantic gem.