Kazan Revisited

On Kazan the Man

Jeanine Basinger On Kazan the Man I first met Elia Kazan in the fall of 1969. He had given his personal and professional papers to Wesleyan University, due to the efforts of Wyman Parker, who was at that time the head of the University’s Olin Library. In return for his gift, Kazan was provided with a working office on campus, a convenience he often took advantage of, since he owned a country home in nearby Newtown, Connecticut. Because he was curious about the University’s efforts to begin teaching film to undergraduates, he began to visit our classes to talk informally with film students and faculty. Eventually, it was decided that the Kazan archive would be moved into the new Wesleyan Cinema Archives, at that time home to the papers of such Hollywood luminaries as Frank Capra, Ingrid Bergman, Raoul Walsh, and Kay Francis.(Later would be added Clint Eastwood,JohnWaters,Jonathan Demme, and Martin Scorsese, among others.) I became curator of Kazan’s papers, and he and I began going through them together. He gave me very specific instructions about how he wanted things to be handled.(At first,he wanted me to type while he dictated, but my typing wasn’t fast enough for him. He decided I should just“remember what I tell you.”) The main thing he wanted done was simple: save everything. I once pointed out to him, as we plowed through a box, that he still had a dance card from his high school days, even though it had no names filled in. Could we throw this out, I asked, since he obviously hadn’t danced with anyone. Very definitely not, he replied. The fact that it was empty of names was what made it important to him.“I don’t ever want to lose that memory.” The dance card was emblematic of Kazan’s archive. Small, seemingly irrelevant items—a handful of stones picked up on a Greek isle—represented a personal memory of his past and his emotions. These little mementos were mixed in with his professional working notebooks. All of this archive material is, of course, an explanation of both his personality and his work in film and theater. He was a holder of memories, a detailed observer and recorder of his times, and a believer that small things revealed big things. 2 jeanine basinger Eventually, Kazan and I began a friendship of the everyday sort, the kind where he would turn up unexpectedly, stick his head in my door, and ask if he could sit down and gab for a while.“Don’t tell anyone I’m here,”he would say, as if they hadn’t noticed. Elia Kazan was a powerful presence, but in the most offhand way. He dressed casually, even carelessly, but with a certain jaunty touch that marked him out as a man who understood the meaning of costume and visual nuance. He was down-to-earth, unpretentious, and he liked nothing more than to collect me for a trip to his favorite eatery in nearby Middletown: the Pizza Palace. The Palace was at that time owned by two Greek brothers, and Kazan always plopped down into a booth as if he’d been born there. He liked the food, he liked the camaraderie, and he liked the prices. He enjoyed sitting and talking—with me, with the brothers , with the staff, and with anyone else who happened by. He liked to know what people were doing and what they had on their minds. (“Where are you going later?”and“What are you up to today?”) He also liked to quiz me about everything—why I had come to Connecticut, what my parents were like, who I respected on the faculty, what books I had read, what movies were my favorites—anything and everything. He had all kinds of pointers with which to advance my education. “See that man over there? He’s worried about something but is trying not to show it” would be offered right alongside“Buy okra today. It’s in season.”He especially liked giving me advice about who I shouldn’t trust. (“Watch out for that guy. He locks his door when there’s no need to. He has something to hide.”) Kazan also liked to take walks, rain or shine, hot or cold, and he liked to climb up to the top of what was then the student union building, because it...