KERR CRUSH, Part 2
John Kerr…
Tea And Sympathy
Hello everyone. And, once again, thank you for joining me here.
All during his too-short span on our planet, my dear friend Anthony McLean would jokingly play tricks on us , attempting to convince us that two very different actors were actually one and the same person.
Take, for example, Burt Reynolds and Tom Selleck. Even after we made our definitive point that they were, indeed, two distinctly different people, Tony would nod negatively and pose this question, “Did you ever see them in the same room together?”
But, I digress…
Well, actually, I’ll take that back. For this time, at least—I rescind my digression.
Because, I myself might have convincingly tricked some naive cinephile regarding actors John Kerr and Gloria Graham. Except, of course, that Mr. Kerr and Ms. Graham did indeed appear in the same room together in Vincente Minnelli’s 1955 film version of the William Gibson novel, The Cobweb. A more convincing argument for me to have made might have been that they were siblings—if not twins. They both shared the most beautifully world weary almond shaped eyes.
But, I digress. I do.
And progress to a year later and another Vincente Minnelli film; his 1956 adaptation of Robert Anderson’s 1953 play, Tea And Sympathy. I find that there's a wonderful, mysterious melding of yin and yang to be found in Mr. Kerr as Tom, the character at the center of the film’s action.
That same duality could be said of Ms. Graham in any number of her own films.
Both John and Gloria—if I may be familiar for a moment—were not entirely knowable in their film characterizations. They often appeared a bit covered and introspective as they explored the skins of those characters they were temporarily residing inside of.
Which brings me once again to Tea and Sympathy—and John Kerr’s costar, Deborah Kerr (same spelling, different pronunciation). There’s a teasing sexual ambiguity to be found here. And, as a bisexual man, director Minnelli takes excellent advantage of the situation. Watching Deborah Kerr and John Kerr share intimacies in Tea And Sympathy is akin to watching two characters endlessly reflecting each other. We’re witness to a constant array of sensitive patterns as they attempt to come to some kind of an understanding about themselves and their roles as men and women.
From Stonewall, and even up to today, both the play and film have been, I believe, unjustly vilified—and pointed to as examples of cultural homophobia. But, I disagree. I strongly disagree. The play, first and foremost, is about persecution, and its effect on those who are experiencing a crisis of identity. It was a first introduction to my own formative identity. And for so many of us who’ve experienced a hateful outsider’s response to our burgeoning and often confusing sexual development.
The character of Tom, as played between the lines by Mr. Kerr, is deeply sensitive and somewhat sexually ambiguous. It’s never clear who or what he believes himself to be. But, it is quite clear that as an easy target for the bullying testosterone that’s so apparent in the film, Kerr’s personal brand on Tom’s character was something easily identified and shared by many of us. Tea and Sympathy, remains, in the context of its time, a moving account of those who are victims of society’s fears. And, a still potent example of society’s continual attempts to suppress what it chooses not to understand. And, as for those deeply felt , almond eyes of John Kerr’s…They penetrate to the heart and soul of the matter still.
Until next time.
Be well.
And stay engaged.
