There's something that's almost majestic about Elia Kazan's "East of Eden". It casts a spell about the audience; the very definition of "gripping". At the same time, some characters suffer because of the film's focus on Cal (James Dean), to some extent at the expense of the other characters, primarily his father Adam (Ray Massey) and brother Aron (Richard Davalos), and the primary family relationship which the story deals with in allegorical Biblical terms.
Dean's Cal is a study in the self-doubt and confusion of youth that stands the test of time and even transcends the categories of "cool" and "rebel" that to some extent limit the appeal of his character in Nick Ray's "Rebel Without a Cause". One interesting thing about the structure of the story is that to begin with Cal is an unpredictable and potentially dangerous presence. There's a note of fear in the reaction of his loved ones when he spontaneously begins to hurl giant blocks of ice out of his father's barn the action actually seems random to them but what we see as the audience, thanks to Kazan's inter-cutting between Abra and Aron's Victorian lovemaking and Cal's reactions to their words gives us clues to the psychology of the character. Kazan builds upon this type of device for the rest of the film, until we reach a point in the middle of the film (particularly when Aron seems to become unhinged at the possibility of going to war) where it is hard to decide which of the two brothers is more sympathetic or real to us, and finally by the end of the film the audience's sympathies and understanding have completely shifted from the "normal" son Aron to the "crazy" Cal. What makes all this reach a higher level is the fact that their father Adam still has not made the transition that Cal has made, so there's a shift in the audience's reaction to Adam's behavior and philosophies as well. We see quite a bit of his hypocrisy, but the film's focus and Cal's own sympathies never sway completely to the kind of naked derision that Van Fleet's Kate displays toward Adam with regards to his moral righteousness. Thus we as the audience can empathize with nearly every character in the film, although unfortunately a minor flaw could be pointed out in that Aron's character becomes somewhat less nuanced as the film progresses and as his dramatic function begins to subsume the more subtle aspects of his character that could have been explored. Davalos gives an impressive performance in the early parts of the film but as his character's role is diminished his performance seems to become more frenetic, as if he felt that he needed to make up for the lack of quantity in terms of screen time by playing to the back rows. Probably it fits into Kazan's more general plan of shifting the audience's sympathies from Aron to Cal, but I felt that the uneven quality of Davalos' performance was one of the film's only flaws.
Julie Harris' Abra is perhaps the most believable and stirring performance in the film a pretty hefty accomplishment considering she was going up against heavyweights like the young Dean and elder Massey. Her character moves her affections from Aron to Cal at precisely the same moments that the audience should (if Kazan did his job well, which I think he did), but far more so than that, she also eventually represents the emotional bridge between the father and son. There are moments of great tenderness in her portrayal and also moments where she shows great strength and maturity her character is naive, particularly sexually, but she's brave enough to go after what she wants even if she's not completely sure what it is. By the film's emotionally draining climax, she has gone from being a girl to being a woman just as surely or perhaps more so than Cal has gone from being a boy to a man. You can learn everything you need to know about Cal's and Adam's relationship just by watching her reaction to what they say and do.
I think the film's pivotal moment is the "gift giving" scene, clearly modeled on the passages in Genesis relating to the sacrifices of Cain and Abel. Adam refuses Cal's gift of money because he sees it as war profit, whereas he embraces Aron's gift an announcement of impending marriage to Abra. The scene is exceptionally powerful because our knowledge includes many facts that Adam seems unaware of, perhaps even willfully ignorant of. He tells Cal that only Aron's gift is "honest and true", but the facts as we know them are that Abra does not love Aron, and that Cal's gift truly represents a great sacrifice and a great step forward towards independence. It wasn't easy for Cal to ask Kate for the money to start his farm, and in the extraordinarily photographed scene (special mention for the quality of this film should go to DP Ted McCord) with Cal at the bean field we see that he has truly put the best parts of his heart and soul into the effort. Cal goes off the deep end, but by this point in the film we understand his character and his history particularly the difficulty of living under the crushing burden of his father's expectations that we tend to blame Adam more for the fallout than Cal. For a moment it feels that we may be on the cusp of a serious tragedy, but Abra's understanding and love for Cal provide a bridge between the two men that allows for a powerful and satisfying conclusion devoid of empty sorrow.
Dean's Cal is a study in the self-doubt and confusion of youth that stands the test of time and even transcends the categories of "cool" and "rebel" that to some extent limit the appeal of his character in Nick Ray's "Rebel Without a Cause". One interesting thing about the structure of the story is that to begin with Cal is an unpredictable and potentially dangerous presence. There's a note of fear in the reaction of his loved ones when he spontaneously begins to hurl giant blocks of ice out of his father's barn the action actually seems random to them but what we see as the audience, thanks to Kazan's inter-cutting between Abra and Aron's Victorian lovemaking and Cal's reactions to their words gives us clues to the psychology of the character. Kazan builds upon this type of device for the rest of the film, until we reach a point in the middle of the film (particularly when Aron seems to become unhinged at the possibility of going to war) where it is hard to decide which of the two brothers is more sympathetic or real to us, and finally by the end of the film the audience's sympathies and understanding have completely shifted from the "normal" son Aron to the "crazy" Cal. What makes all this reach a higher level is the fact that their father Adam still has not made the transition that Cal has made, so there's a shift in the audience's reaction to Adam's behavior and philosophies as well. We see quite a bit of his hypocrisy, but the film's focus and Cal's own sympathies never sway completely to the kind of naked derision that Van Fleet's Kate displays toward Adam with regards to his moral righteousness. Thus we as the audience can empathize with nearly every character in the film, although unfortunately a minor flaw could be pointed out in that Aron's character becomes somewhat less nuanced as the film progresses and as his dramatic function begins to subsume the more subtle aspects of his character that could have been explored. Davalos gives an impressive performance in the early parts of the film but as his character's role is diminished his performance seems to become more frenetic, as if he felt that he needed to make up for the lack of quantity in terms of screen time by playing to the back rows. Probably it fits into Kazan's more general plan of shifting the audience's sympathies from Aron to Cal, but I felt that the uneven quality of Davalos' performance was one of the film's only flaws.
Julie Harris' Abra is perhaps the most believable and stirring performance in the film a pretty hefty accomplishment considering she was going up against heavyweights like the young Dean and elder Massey. Her character moves her affections from Aron to Cal at precisely the same moments that the audience should (if Kazan did his job well, which I think he did), but far more so than that, she also eventually represents the emotional bridge between the father and son. There are moments of great tenderness in her portrayal and also moments where she shows great strength and maturity her character is naive, particularly sexually, but she's brave enough to go after what she wants even if she's not completely sure what it is. By the film's emotionally draining climax, she has gone from being a girl to being a woman just as surely or perhaps more so than Cal has gone from being a boy to a man. You can learn everything you need to know about Cal's and Adam's relationship just by watching her reaction to what they say and do.
I think the film's pivotal moment is the "gift giving" scene, clearly modeled on the passages in Genesis relating to the sacrifices of Cain and Abel. Adam refuses Cal's gift of money because he sees it as war profit, whereas he embraces Aron's gift an announcement of impending marriage to Abra. The scene is exceptionally powerful because our knowledge includes many facts that Adam seems unaware of, perhaps even willfully ignorant of. He tells Cal that only Aron's gift is "honest and true", but the facts as we know them are that Abra does not love Aron, and that Cal's gift truly represents a great sacrifice and a great step forward towards independence. It wasn't easy for Cal to ask Kate for the money to start his farm, and in the extraordinarily photographed scene (special mention for the quality of this film should go to DP Ted McCord) with Cal at the bean field we see that he has truly put the best parts of his heart and soul into the effort. Cal goes off the deep end, but by this point in the film we understand his character and his history particularly the difficulty of living under the crushing burden of his father's expectations that we tend to blame Adam more for the fallout than Cal. For a moment it feels that we may be on the cusp of a serious tragedy, but Abra's understanding and love for Cal provide a bridge between the two men that allows for a powerful and satisfying conclusion devoid of empty sorrow.