Elmer Gantry: What's it About? What's Good and Bad About it?

Robert Mitchum, even with the exact same script, would have been a much darker Elmer Gantry, but I guess Mitchum already did his bad preacher in Night of the Hunter.

There is a bit of Lewis' Elmer Gantry in A Face in the Crowd. It might have been interesting to see what Andy Griffith would have done in that part.

I never saw it, but there is a similiar movie that came out around that time, Angel Baby, starring Salome Jens, George Hamilton, Mercedes McCambridge, and Burt Reynolds.

http://movies.nytimes.com/movie/revi...669D946091D6CF

That's interesting. Based on what I'm hearing in this thread, and reading about elsewhere, this does seem likely. The Gantry in the film seems well-meaning enough, just deeply flawed. If he were far more debauched, I think my view of the film would be quite different. I'm not sure that it would necessarily be a better film, but certainly a different one.

I can certainly buy into the idea that Lancaster didn't want to play such a villain. I wonder how well he could, anyway; I haven't seen a lot of his work, but the closest thing I can recall is his role as J.J. Hunsecker in Sweet Smell of Success, though even then he's more misguided and overprotective than downright malicious (if memory serves).

It's just as well: I'm a child of the 90s, so he'll always be Moonlight Graham to me.



"Son, if I'd only gotten to be a doctor for five minutes...now that would have been a tragedy."

The idea of whether or not what revivalism does is always meaningful. Whether or not they're real conversions, and whether or not traditional churches should embrace it, reject it, or do something inbetween. There are some pithy lines about it, and perhaps I'm one of very few people who would actually want the characters to engage in something theological delving, but it was somewhere I found myself hoping the movie would go. It's, of course, entirely possible this would make just about everyone else like it less.

To me, the film's title card indicates that the film is going to be about where revivalism fits (if anywhere) into Christianity, yet ends up far more interesting in simply studying the title character instead. The opening words probably produced an expectation in me that was a little let down when it focused elsewhere.

That said, I guess the film does address this in its own way with the line where someone asks, rhetorically, how long Gantry's conversions stay converted. This is, of course, echoed later from the (I believe) janitor, who says he's been saved several times. Good lines, and they sum things up nicely, but I was expecting something a bit more substantive on that point.

"No good film is too long and no bad film is short enough."
-- Roger Ebert

I kid, I kid. Serious response: I think they tell different stories, so different running times are fine by me. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring is just a shade under 3 hours (or a shade over, if you have the Extended Edition), but I think it tells a tale that requires just about every minute of it. 12 Angry Men is a lean 96 minutes, and it doesn't need much more to say what it wants to.

But of course, you know all that. So, an even more serious response: The simplest explanation, though, is that when you love a movie every scene is riveting, and when you're a little let down or befuddled by it, lots of scenes seem a little too long. That's probably the best explanation I can give, though I confess I do find myself thinking that older films are overlong a bit more often than I do newer films. Perhaps I'm conditioned for the faster pace of the latter, or perhaps they're just structured a bit differently. Regardless, I've found myself feeling, on a handful of occasions, that some hailed older film feels a bit haphazard.

You wrote this post a few days ago, so please do let me know if you went ahead and rented/saw The Apostle. I would absolutely love to talk about the way the two compare, if only because I'll be on something resembling equal footing with that film, whereas I'm definitely a tad out of my depth with Elmer Gantry, given the considerable expertise and hours logged the rest of you have on the subject.

Mitchum says, "On your knees, Sinner, and repent!" and you're down in the dirt praying, "Sweet Jesus, please save my sorry butt!!!"

Lancaster once said the Gantry role was more like the real him than any other he played. I can see that. There's a lot of Lancaster in the Gantry on the screen--the big smile, the fast talk, the athletic power and movement--but little of the original Gantry from the book in Lancaster. I don't think Lancaster was as interested in making Gantry "nice" as he was in making the part fit him like a glove. I think he succeeded very well in that. He seemed really to inhabit the role and breathe life into Gantry.

Well, I've rewatched The Apostle twice since this last post, and I'm ready to discuss it, both in the context of Gantry and by itself, but I'm a little hesitant to just jump right into the deep end of the pool. Putting my toes into the shallow end to test the water, I will say that The Apostle isn't really connected to Elmer Gantry except that it has a central character who spends most of his time at the forefront of a religious revival setting. The Robert Duvall character, Sonny, in The Apostle, works in the South of the 1990s, about 70 years after Gantry went through the Midwest. He seems to be a sincere "instrument of the Lord" but he's also a devout "Holy Roller" and he's "on" all the time. To tell you the truth, I felt that I understood Sonny less than I did Gantry. I can accept Sonny as a realistic character and watch him preach and attempt to convert, but I never understood why he does what he does. They do show him twice when he was younger, one time really getting into the "Spirit" (or is it himself?) when he was called by God at age 12. But they never show anything at all about his motivations or doubts, but since the character is interesting and the film isn't really about that, it's OK with me. I certainly don't think he's "nicer" or "worse' than Gantry as a human being, but then again, I don't really think of these characters as trying to be "nice", even when Sonny thinks he's saved two young people after a horrible auto accident. On the other hand, when Sonny's personal life hits a few setbacks, he never takes any personal responsibilty; instead he yells at the Lord that he's disappointed in Him. Gantry never blames the Lord for anything, but then, some of you might say that he doesn't believe, but based on the movie, I'd say you're wrong.

OK, it's starting to feel like I'm getting up to my ankles, so I'm going to put on the brakes for now. However, I will say that although many people have had no run-ins with anything resembling revivals or televangelism, both these movies show that there will always be people who want their "religion" or spiritual life to be highly-emotional. To me, I'm not sure if that's a contradiction or not. Are things which are unseen (faith, emotion) related even though faith is supposed to bring you some form of peace while emotion is probably going to bring you grief and get you into trouble as it does both Sonny and Elmer Gantry?

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I think it goes a bit further than the setting. Both men have a fiery, emotional belief in God and appear unable to resist sermonizing to anyone and everyone they meet. Both are womanizers. Both let their passions get the better of them and have to start anew somewhere. But of course, Sonny/Duvall has to pack up and start over fairly early in the film, whereas Gantry does so in the end. And I think both embody the question you posed earlier: which matters more, the message or the messenger? I think the two films might answer that question differently.

Something related to that, which I think is worth exploring, is the implication that Sonny's conversions are real and lasting, while Gantry's aren't. I wonder if this speaks to some beneath-the-surface difference between them, or if it's the result of two different writers simply having a different take on how emotion and religion intersect.

I'm actually amazed at how similar the time periods seem, even though they're so far apart. Sonny's in the Deep South and there's plenty of Deep Poverty there, to the point at which some of the characters might as well be living in Gantry's time!

I'm going to watch it again (probably tonight), but I'd say the scene you mention in the next paragraph (the one where he yells at God) is a scene of doubt. Not doubt about God's existence, but certainly doubt about God's plan and the direction his life is headed.

That said, one possible interpretation (though not one I really subscribe to) is that Sonny works so hard to preach and convert to make up for the things he's done, as if he's earned his transgressions. This would explain the fever pitch of his efforts, perhaps, but not their foundation, as we're told (and shown) that he's been this way since he was a child, as you point out.

Anyway, Sonny is compelling to me because he's one of those people who does what he does not because of some trauma in his past, or to atone for something (as far as we know, at least), but because he was just born to do it. Anything else would be a misuse of his talents, and would probably be impossible, besides. I think not being able to fully understand how he can do what he does is the point. He's a force of nature; the enjoyment comes out of observing him, rather than relating to him.

I guess I wouldn't disagree (about responsibility). One interpretation of the "yelling at the Lord" scene which I kind of like is that he recognizes his passions are causing his problems, and is mad at God for making him this way. He clearly can't separate his passion for the Gospel from his lust for life in general, and he can't stop preaching, so what's he to do?

I do find it worth noting that, by my recollection, he doesn't preach much (if at all) about sin and atonement. He's more focused on doing good things than avoiding bad ones.

Definitely leaving cinematic territory here, but a great question all the same. I think some people probably do have a slightly off-kilter sense of just what religion is supposed to be, and there are definitely people who think religion is supposed to feel more like a drug that excites you than a way to find real peace. But there's a part of me that admires the excitement, too, and thinks it really does work for some people.

Solid response, Yoda. Where's everybody else? "Calling All Cars!" If you've seen Elmer Gantry and/or The Apostle (Austruck? Mr. Pike? viddy?), please come back. Some of you made a post, but c'mon, this is a great topic, even if I do say so myself.

Yoda! Let's see, I need a tutorial on some of the software, but I think this will work even better...



You say that Sonny and Gantry both are womanizers. I can tell you four women that Gantry "-izes", (the woman in red in the bar, Sister Rachel, Sister Sharon and Lulu Baines), but I cannot really tell you one that Sonny does, at least at the point he claimed to be an -izer. The Miranda Richardson character could be one, but hell, that's not even Sonny, that's the Apostle.

You say that Sonny was born to do what he does, and I agree with you, but what makes you think that Gantry, Sister Sharon and Jim Lefferts weren't born to do what they do? I realize that maybe you don't believe that, but I'm just telling you the first thing I thought of when I read that.

I took the scene where Sonny yelled at the Lord to mean that Sonny believes that he's doing right, so the only reason the Lord might be messing with him is based on the Lord's flaws, not Sonny's. However, I'll admit that when Sonny becomes the Apostle that he does seem to get a bit calmer and find some peace. As you say, he also tends to preach more "peace". I imagine that's the point since if Sonny kept killing people, especially in the South, he'd probably be put to death himself. Of course, based on what religion one believes, one can get put to death for basically every human longing imaginable. That's not a criticism of religion or Christianity, specifically; rather it's supposed to be an explanation for it, whether it seems unfair or not. I also want to ask you why you seem to believe that Sonny's "conversions" are "better" than Gantry's.



I also want to say that the Apostle does really seem to be able to just go with the flow (more-calmly) in Louisiana than he did in Texas. The last third of the movie is almost like one long, sincere, musically-alive prayer meeting which is actually quite full of love, especially since Sonny reappears when the Cop shows up at the back of the church during services.

You know what, Yoda? I'm starting to think that you'd raise your Elmer Gantry rating if you just ignored the foreward about revivalism (or it wasn't there). The film does warn everyone about revivalism (which I tend to think of as fundamentalism), and I certainly think it's a good warning. Then it proceeds to show you a revival which is perhaps the most-complex one presented in film (or any other) history. I really don't see how you can think less of a film for accomplishing something so American: you are presumed innocent until proven guilty beyond a reasonable doubt.

If I had used any metaphors here, you probably could have accused me of mixing them!

Wow, what a treat! Ruffy, Yoda, and Mark, that is one amazing discussion and each of you wrote such incredible posts. This is why I joined MovieForums.

For me, I have no real interest in The Apostle, since I had no real interest in Duvall's character. Elmer Gantry, otoh, as this thread has alluded to, is a heck of lot more interesting because of the questions raised in the viewer's mind about his true motivations.

Obviously, one's view of religion probably colors our reactions. When I think of Elmer Gantry -- it's been a while -- I take away from it more about what others see and want to see in Gantry. People need hope, they need to know they can be saved, and I always thought that Gantry represents the idea that messengers cannot be God. Evangelicals are snake oil salesmen to me. They are still around, preying on the weak-minded. They are in it to make money. Whether they truly believe or not is a great discussion and all, but the story of those that follow them has always been the story that has intrigued me. I'm going to guess that is where Lewis is coming from. People will believe anything because they are so flawed and they reject that part of themselves.

I agree, though, Yoda, the film seems to be contradictory as to Gantry -- I never felt like I really could get a handle on whether he is a true believer or not. I accepted the fact that he wasn't any different than those he preached to -- full of hope that somewhere out there is a God who will forgive and love him. In a way, that makes the film more intriguing than the book if Lewis wrote him more one-dimensional.

The question is: did Hollywood get it right because Lancaster didn't want to be all evil?

I also believe the film is a strong statement about religion itself, but I won't go there.

I think you've put your finger on the pulse of it all here, Mark. It's been a long time since I saw The Apostle, but the thing that I remember that sold me that Duval's character is a true believer is that you see it in him in some of the quite moments, like the scene when he is talking with the black man outside of that man's home. There's no big crowd to play to, no one to do a "show" for, just two men talking, one a black man old enough to have been shaped by the racism of white southern men, and yet he accepts this white man "on faith" as it were, the same way that the black congregation at the black church are first suspicious and then accepting of Sonny when he comes into their church. Sonny is serious about his religion, it's really a part of him; but that's not true for Lancaster's Gantry. Sonny stands in front of a bulldozer and physically fights to save his church. Gantry tries to rescue Sarah from the fire, but when it gets too hot, he gets the hell out of there. No sense getting killed too! Sonny takes part in baptism, the symbol of rebirth into the church. Gantry, who was kicked out of the seminary for conduct unbecoming a preacher, never does.

Duval is good at playing a white man who gets black people to accept him under odd situations--an example being the film in which he learns that he's been raised as a Southern white man but his mother was actually a black woman, causing him to go find his black relatives (including half-brother James Earl Jones) in a northern city. There's a scene where Duval is in a black nightclub, the only white in the place, and he goes over to two black couples who are there celebrating one of the women's birthday and asks to dance with her. They are suspicious at first, but he wins them over. (Can't recall the name of the film but I'm sure you'll remember it.) The Apostle is a film that took Duval years and a lot of determination to bring to the screen and I think it's partly because he recognized the truth and sincerity in Sonny. Lancaster didn't put the same degree of effort in bringing Gantry to the screen, but instead modeled the character to his own strong points--the bright smile, quick patter, attractive personality, and athletic moves and performance. That's why he said the character was more like the real him than any other role--but not necessarily like the darker Gantry of the book.

Duvall, particularly in the early days, was one of those actors that could disappear into a part. Lancaster was always at his best, like in Elmer Gentry and Atlantic City, when he could connect the character to his own personality. I think the key difference between Lancaster's Elmer Gentry and Sinclair Lewis' Gentry, the Lewis one is all snake oil salesman conning his marks, while Lancasters' believes a little of the con himself.

A few comments about ruffy's last post. During the fire at the end of Elmer Gantry, he's literally forced (pushed and shoved by the human stampede) out of the tabernacle and into the lake outside. That's why he cannot save Sister Sharon. Sonny's baptism in The Apostle is administered by Sonny to himself! Although Lancaster's name doesn't appear in the credits in a producer capacity, according to Shirley Jones he was one of the producers of Elmer Gantry, and in fact cast Miss Jones without her having to read for the part. Director Richard Brooks wanted Piper Laurie for Lulu Baines, but Lancaster was the "Boss", at least in that decision. Also, according to Karl Malden, no actor he ever worked with would stay up all night rewriting his own lines as much as Burt Lancaster. Malden said that almost every time the dialogue and the scene would be better, but Burt made it difficult on his fellow actors having to relearn the lines they were to react to. And once again, for the record, Burt Lancaster was a self-confessed atheist.

P.S. The Duvall/Jones movie is called A Family Thing.

Even if self-administered, baptism still was an important step toward salvation for Sonny, a symbolism that was lacking for Gantry, who instead laid Lulu behind the alter. Maybe that was the anti-christ version of baptism, the deflowering of an (presumably) innocent.

Maybe I'm not being completely fair to Gantry's character, but to me the crowd fleeing the tabernacle fire just didn't seem so big as to completely overrun a man of Lancaster's size and strength. I seem to remember some openings he could have slipped through especially since he had to be more familar with the layout than most of the first-time visitors.

Still, it really doesn't matter. Obviously, he would have tried to save sharon if he were close enough to grab her.

I have no idea to what degree Lancaster rewrote this and other scripts, although I'm happy to take yours and Malden's word that he did. But that is still in keeping with my description of him as having "modeled the character to his own strong points--the bright smile, quick patter, attractive personality, and athletic moves and performance. That's why he said the character was more like the real him than any other role--but not necessarily like the darker Gantry of the book."

Guess I must have missed the earlier posting of this interesting fact. But I'm guessing from the "once again for the record" lead-in, you mean this to make some sort of point about Lancaster as Gantry that I'm missing. I think ol' Burt was a good enough actor to make us accept him on the screen as something he was not in real life.

Anyway, unlike some others in this forum, I've always thought of Gantry as a con man who's almost has to run the con since it's such a central part of him. He's much too wise to the faults of the world to really believe in the salvation of the meek. But whether he's all bad or just partly bad, he brings about tragic results for others--and maybe for himself, too.

Thanks for supplying the name of that film. I knew you'd know it. Didn't you see some parallels between the character Duval played in that film and Sonny? Seems to me the two could have been brothers.

That's a good point, Will, especially the basic difference between the two Gantrys.

I was flipping through DVDs at Big Lots and came across The Rainmaker and realized that Starbuck guy isn't that different from his Gantry. At the end of it he's grinning and saying to himself, "I really made it rain!" Your average con man would know it was a lucky coincidence.

Like I said in an earlier post, I always felt Gantry had a less-jaded brother (or at least cousin) con-man named Starbuck selling rain to dry Oklahoma farmers. Starbuck mistakes the coincidence of rain as a wishful confirmation of his secret "talent," whereas Gantry would have recognized that Starbuck was just conning himself because there are no miracles.

Sorry for the delay. I wrote most of this response and was planning to verify and supplement parts of it by watching The Apostle again, and discovered I didn't know where my copy was! I haven't found it since, either. D'oh. I might have to buy another copy. Anyway, onward for now, anyway...

Well, he changes his name, but not all of his ways. I think Miranda Richardson's character is one example, and as you say he calls himself a womanizer at one point. And I believe there are references to past infidelities when he argues with his wife; that's one of the things I was going to check, because my memory of that part is just a little fuzzy.

Yeah, I wouldn't say I believe that. Though it's always hard to say someone was "born" to do something when you don't much like the way they do it. It has a positive connotation; it's not usually said about someone who's doing something bad. Gantry's born to do it in the sense that he has a natural talent for it, but not in a way that makes his current state inevitable, if that makes sense.

Hard to say what Sonny might have been thinking in his argument with the Lord, I think. All this speculation fits, but we have no way of knowing for sure. I tend to lean toward him just being mad, and not having any highly specific or thought-out reason. That said, the argument climaxes when he basically says "I'm furious, but I'm your servant, so tell me what to do next." And, amusingly, God seems to do exactly that.

Simply because I think The Apostle prompts us to believe this. It's a bit like those characters who you find sprinkled throughout all sorts of films that are obviously meant to be viewed as voices of authority, who voice the words of the movie and its writer, and not just the subjective views of their own character. Billy Bob Thornton's character undergoes a dramatic conversion, and its played in such a way that we're meant to be moved by it. And since there's no hint at all that it won't last, I think we're meant to assume that it does.

This is what I meant when I said the writers of the two stories might have different opinions about emotion and religion. I don't know if this is fair or accurate, but one could possibly assume from Sinclair's writing that he believes conversion born out of fervent, transient emotion isn't worth much. Robert Duvall seems to feel differently.

I could be wrong, of course, but the two might just have different opinions about how valid this sort of emotional worship and conversion is. In other words, I don't think it's me that feels Sonny's conversions are better; I think the two films have each come to that conclusion based on how they depict them.

That said, there's an element of conjecture here. I think Sonny's conversions may be better because I think he's a more genuine, God-filled person than Gantry. We've discussed whether or not Gantry really believes what he's saying already, and I certainly come down on the side that he does. But I think he believes in a fairly shallow way, and doesn't realize there can be more to it. As far as he's concerned, what he believes really is true faith, but I think it's a shadow of the real thing and he never bothers to dig any deeper.

That's an interesting way to look at that scene ("Sonny reappears") that hadn't occurred to me before. Good stuff.

And yeah, Sonny's clearly more suited to the South. I wonder if we're supposed to lament that he didn't find his way there before getting into so much trouble, or if we're meant to believe that he would have found trouble in Louisiana, too, eventually. I tend to think that Sonny's more self-destructive tendencies are rooted deeply within him (and irrevocably tied to his virtues and strengths as a preacher), so I'd go with the latter interpretation. But maybe not; maybe the baptism and renaming really represented a fresh start and things would've been fine if Laurie hadn't heard him over the radio.

On one hand, he still has some violence in him, as we can see when he beats up Thornton's character. On the other hand, he takes a more peaceful, persuasive tack with him later. His sporadic relationship with Thornton could be seen as a microcosm of the entire film: his first reaction is to be violent and defiant, but he learns this doesn't work and tries a more peaceful approach, which is successful. If he did truly reform, though, it was still too late.

I think you may have lost me here. Are you saying Elmer Gantry is "American" because it makes an accusation about revivalism, and then proves it via the events on screen?

Regardless, I definitely think it's fair to say I'd have liked the film a bit more without the title card, though I don't know how much more. I think I might still have given it , but with a lot less reservation and doubt about whether or not it should have been .

I meant to say that the title card tends to indict all revivalism akin to a prosecutor's opening statement, but that the film presents the evidence and leaves room to show that with certain revivals, there is a reasonable doubt as to their guilt and fraud.

I'm not crazy about title cards like that, which is evident in a lot of older movies dealing with controversy, like in the Howard Hawks Scarface. The best thing is to just ignore them as in most instances it's probably something a nervous studio head or producer tacked on.

D'oh, didn't reply to this until now.

I hadn't thought of the titlecard in that fashion. I can kind of see it, but there's no opposing side. Unless you think the film is sort of arguing with itself about revivialism's overall guilt or innocence? That seems to be what you're saying, but I'm more inclined to chalk it up to inconsistency to say one thing in the titlecards, but then fail to prove it in the events that follow. Unless the film is way more meta than I've realized up to this point.