Tom: James Dean appeared in three films—three terrific films—before he died in a car crash at the age of 24: “East of Eden,” “Rebel Without a Cause” and “Giant.” But it’s his Oscar-nominated performance in “East of Eden” that captivates us both.
Sarah: He has a special quality, a subtle power that enthralls you. He plays himself—a tragic hero, a damaged soul that became the symbol of a generation of disaffected youth in the ’50s and ’60s.
Tom: In “East of Eden” he plays Cal Trask, who with his brother Aron is the twin son of Adam Trask, a stern and imposing patriarch (Raymond Massey). Aron is the apple of his father’s eye and in love with Abra (Julie Harris). Cal is the problem child, a rebel who is perpetually on the outs with his strict parent.
Sarah: Dean actually met John Steinbeck before landing the role. In a conversation with director Elia Kazan, Steinbeck referred to Dean as “a snotty kid,” to which Kazan responded, “But he’s Cal, isn’t he?” Steinbeck replied, “He’s sure as hell Cal!”
Tom: The assured hand of Kazan, then fresh from the triumph of “On the Waterfront,” is visible throughout “East of Eden.” Kazan leveraged the mutual antipathy of Dean and Massey to engender a compelling sense of realism in their scenes together.
Sarah: Kazan saw the insecurity and pain hidden in Dean’s rebellious nature, and he used these insights to bring the character of Cal to life as a troubled youth lashing out at the world, much like Dean’s later character in “Rebel Without a Cause.” But there is much more to Dean’s performance than that label suggests.
Tom: “East of Eden” is ultimately a story about good and evil, paralleling the biblical story of Adam and Eve and their sons, Cain and Abel. Cal and Aron are obvious surrogates for the sons; it is Cal who discovers and confronts Kate (Jo Van Fleet), the mother who abandoned them as infants, now running a brothel in Monterey. His experience with the corrupt and soulless Kate causes Cal to fear that he, too, is inescapably tainted by evil. Throughout much of the film, Cal seems destined to follow the path of Cain, and the jealously he harbors for his brother sets in motion a chain of events that changes his family forever.
Sarah: But unlike Cain, Cal ultimately is brought to understand that his life path is not determined by inherited sin. He recognizes that every individual has the power to choose between good and evil.
Tom: Abra, who is Aron’s girlfriend but finds herself drawn to Cal, plays a pivotal role here.
Sarah: I think of Abra as being the balancing weight on a scale with Aron with his seemingly unblemished goodness on one side, and Cal, cast as his dark counterpart, on the other. Abra is the only character who admits that as a human she has capacity for both good and evil. She also sees the good deep down in Cal, beneath his outward indifference and rashness, and she understands his inner torment and doubt. Her tenderness and forbearance make possible Cal’s ultimate survival.
Tom: And his reconciliation with his father Adam. Abra represents the counterpoint to Kate’s corrosive evil. Just as Kate’s actions led to dysfunction and disaffection in the Trask Family, Abra becomes the agent of reconciliation and restoration. Van Fleet, who won an Oscar for her performance, and Harris are perfect in their opposing roles.
Sarah: Speaking of counterpoints, there’s the paradox of the twins, who are more similar than they — or we — realize. Despite initial appearances, Aron is just as fragile and vulnerable as Cal, and needy for affection and attention. While Cal eventually finds hope of redemption, Aron is incapable of coping with reality.
Sarah: Kazan’s shot compositions establish the dynamics of the love triangle involving Aron, Abra and Cal. The characters are at first positioned to emphasize Cal’s sense of isolation from Aron and Abra, but the staging is gradually altered as Abra and Cal become close and Aron is distanced.
Tom: In addition to great direction and editing, the film benefits from extensive location shooting in the Salinas Valley and coastal Mendocino, which stands in for the Monterey of a century ago.
Sarah: What, to you, is most memorable about the film?
Tom: The closing moments of the film are among the most moving I have ever experienced. They speak for the opportunity in all of us to choose good over evil, to change ourselves and to find redemption.
Sarah: For me, it has to be James Dean. Whether he is throwing a tantrum, coldly detached, or displaying sudden vulnerability, Dean always keeps us invested in his struggle to find his identity. He never outlived his myth, and to this day embodies the archetype of the vulnerable, misunderstood outsider. He never became ordinary or mundane; he was something special, and remains so today.