Word: marlon
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Nearly 30 years ago, Marlon Brando exploded on the Broadway stage as Stanley Kowalski in A Streetcar Named Desire. Since then he has become the leading movie actor of his generation. Some of his films have been good; more have been awful. No matter. Audiences could always count on Brando for performances that were surprising, overwhelming in their power, sometimes perversely idiosyncratic-his foppish Mr. Christian in Mutiny on the Bounty, for example. At the very least, there was always an unforgettable moment or two, like the garden scene in The Godfather in which he mugs for his grandchild. Brando...
Loping Stride. We walked the perimeter of the island, Marlon leading the way. From the back, he looked like a young heavyweight boxer: broad shoulders, thick, sinewy arms and rock-hard legs. The loping stride is strong. Only the white hair, cut short, betrayed his age. Suddenly Brando turned toward me and the illusion of youth vanished. That famous face with its jutting forehead and broken nose is a face that has seen and experienced everything. His wet shirt hugged a fat belly. "Poachers," Brando whispered, looking at two young Polynesian boys lying on the sand. They smiled nervously. Brando...
Brando a Buddha? Unlikely. Not the pugnacious, trigger-tempered, tempestuous Marlon Brando who broke a photographer's jaw three years ago, seduced and abandoned nearly as many women as Don Juan, insulted and scorned more than a few of the world's notables. Not long ago, while snorkeling in his lagoon, he punched a marauding whitetip shark in the snout. The shark fled...
...gentle and considerate man to those he likes. He detests obsequiousness. "I notice," he says, "that the width of a Hollywood smile in my direction is commensurate with how my last picture grossed." No one relishes candor like Marlon Brando. "I suppose you think I'm just another asshole actor?" he asks rhetorically. "No," comes the reply, "an asshole actor with heavy pretensions." Brando roars with glee. Tell him you think he is the acting genius of his generation and he will snort with anger and walk away...
...they keep promising will arrive. Poor Jack Nicholson. He's right at the center, cranking the whole thing out while I'm zipping around like a firefly. I wanted the character to be different, a serious study of the American Indian. But Arthur Perm said, 'Gee, Marlon, not at these prices [$1.5 million for Brando].' So I countered, 'Arthur, at least let me have some...