Welcome back to the Deep Dive. Today we're undertaking
something that's, well, it's messy, definitely
challenging, but really essential, I think. We're
unpacking the life and work of Aliyah Kazan.
And, you know, this is a director the New York
Times described as, what was the exact phrase?
One of the most honored and influential directors
in Broadway and Hollywood history. That's the
one. A man whose artistic genius. You know, it
really did fundamentally reshape American performance.
But you just can't separate that legacy, can
you? I mean, it's huge, monumental even, but
it's tied directly to this profound political
controversy. Exactly. It defined, really, the
second half of his life. Yeah, he's such a study
in contrast, this visionary director, nurturing
the absolute greatest talents, you know, Hoffman,
De Niro, Pacino, later influenced by his whole
approach. Right. And then there's the other side,
the political informer, his 1952 testimony. It
left scars, real scars on people he knew, people
he worked with. Absolutely. Yeah. And our sources
today, they really demand we look at this whole
picture with clear eyes, you know, acknowledge
the brilliance, the miracles he created on screen,
but also the personal betrayals that kind of
cast a shadow over everything. So our mission
today for you listening is to try and grasp the
full sweep of the Kazan story. Right. We'll start
with his foundations, American theater, the group
theater, the birth of method acting. That's huge
in itself. Then we'll get into his film career,
which was just explosive, defined by these really
tough social issue subjects and his incredible
eye for talent. Discovering stars. Unmatched,
really. Truly. But then we have to talk about
the political shadow, the HUAC testimony. It's
unavoidable. Can't ignore it. And finally, we'll
look at the dynasty he left behind. A whole family,
multigenerational of writers, actors, still working
today, still shaping stories. It's fascinating.
So the big question, the one hanging over all
of this. Yeah. It's maybe the central challenge
when we look at art, isn't it? Yeah. How do you
reconcile this transformative artistic legacy?
I mean, genuinely game changing with an act of
political compliance of person betrayal that
had such devastating consequences. That's the
tightrope. Let's let's try and unpack it. OK,
so to really get Kazan to understand the intensity
in his work, you have to start with his identity,
where he came from. He was born Elias Kazantzoglu
in Constantinople, which is now Istanbul, of
course. 1909. His parents were Cappadocian Greeks.
And this wasn't just like. a biographical footnote,
was it? His roots, his heritage, they were fundamental
to how he saw the world, how he directed. Absolutely
fundamental. He came to the U .S. in 1913, just
four years old, raised Greek Orthodox, pretty
strict household. And he talked a lot about feeling
like an outsider, didn't he? That sense of alienation.
caught between his immigrant parents' traditions
and mainstream American culture. He really did.
That tension, that feeling of being displaced,
it's arguably the bedrock of his whole directorial
voice. You feel it in the films. Which leads
us straight into what he considered his most
personal work. Exactly. His autobiographical
novel and then the film he made from it, Americas.
America, 1963. Ah, yeah. This film tells the
story he grew up hearing about his uncle's journey,
desperate journey, really, escaping Kirky, trying
to get to America, sacrificing, well... Almost
everything compromising his morals sometimes
just to get here. And our sources, they really
emphasize this Kazan called America, America,
his favorite of all the films I've made. Which
is saying something considering the classics
he'd already directed by 63. Right. Waterfront,
Streetcar, East of Eden. Yeah. He said it was
the first film that was entirely mine. That tells
you everything about how deeply that immigrant
narrative resonated with him, capturing the desperation,
the hope, the complexity of the American dream.
There's that story about the ending, too, isn't
there? The character gets to New York. Oh, yeah.
Powerful stuff. Near the Statue of Liberty, he
kneels down and kisses the ground. Passionately.
Critics apparently thought it was, what, too
sentimental? Yeah. Naive. Something like that.
But Kazan defended it fiercely. He said, and
this is a direct quote, to oppressed people,
America is still a dream. He wasn't just directing
a scene. He was directing his own family history,
his own emotional truth. Wow. So before he's
Kazan the director, he's Elias the student. Williams
College, graduates, cum laude. But he wasn't
exactly privileged, right? Not at all. Worked
his way through bartender, washed dishes. That's
where he got the nickname Gaj, short for gadget.
Why Gaj? Apparently because he was seen as small,
compact, and handy to have around. Gaj. It stuck,
didn't it? Kind of fits that image of focused
intensity. Useful. It really does. Then came
Yale School of Drama. And after that, the place
that truly forged him, the group theater he joined
in 1932. And the story goes they initially told
him he wasn't cut out for acting. Yeah, something
like he might have talent for something, but
it's certainly not acting. Imagine. But the group
became, in his own words, his first strong sense
of self in America. It was his artistic home,
his family, really. And for you listening, it's
crucial to get this. The group theater wasn't
just another theater company. It was, well, it
was a revolution back then. Absolutely. Founded
by Lee Strasberg, Harold Klerman, Cheryl Crawford
during the Depression. Their whole mission was
social commentary, intense psychological realism
on stage. Zan thrived there. He became known
as the proletarian Thunderbolt after his performance
in Waiting for Lefty. 1935, yeah. Playing a strike
-leading taxi driver. That intensity, that raw
energy, it came straight from what would become
The Method. And Strasberg and Klerman were key
figures for him there. Father figures, he called
them. Definitely. Especially Strasberg. Kazan
describes Strasberg's influence as almost mystical.
Said he had the aura of a prophet, a magician,
a witch doctor, a psychoanalyst, and a feared
father. Wow, that's intense. It sounds less like
an acting class and more like group therapy or
something. It kind of was, in a way, a deep psychological
workshop. So let's pause on the method itself.
We hear the term all the time. What exactly was
it? And what was Kazan's role in bringing it
forward? How did it break from older acting styles?
OK, so the method drawing heavily from Stanislavski
system from Russia. Fundamentally, it was about
stopping pretending to feel things on stage and
starting to actually feel them. Moving beyond
just gestures and reciting lines beautifully.
Exactly. Moving away from that external rhetorical
style towards internal psychological truth. It
required actors to dig deep, use their own memories,
sensory experiences, even their traumas to connect
with the character's reality. That's deeply personal,
which makes Kazan's later comment, every film
is autobiographical, hit even harder, doesn't
it? It really does. He demanded that same vulnerability
from his actors that he poured into his own most
personal work, like America. And Kazan's genius
initially was taking that intensity from the
sort of radical fringe of the group theater.
Which produced amazing talents like Lee J. Cobb,
John Garfield. Right. And bring it into the mainstream
American theater. His directing successes were
huge. Thornton Wilder's The Skin of Our Teeth
in 42. Pulitzer winner. And then the big ones.
Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman. Tennessee
Williams is a streetcar named Desire. These cemented
him. He was the director on Broadway in the 1940s.
No question. And he made sure this approach,
this school of thought. would survive he co -founded
the actor's studio in 1947 with robert lewis
and cheryl crawford right now kazan was key in
starting it but it was really lee strasburg who
took over later and kind of codified the method
made it the dominant force the sort of psychological
and behavioral faith as one source puts it that
would transform post -war hollywood acting which
perfectly sets the stage for kazan's next act
yeah moving into cinema yeah taking these techniques
this intensity onto the big screen so kazan was
to film and that philosophy that intense personal
realism, it just gets amplified. He felt the
camera was actually a better tool for digging
into that psychological truth he was after. His
core principle was choosing subjects rooted in
personal or social issues. He said flat out,
I don't move unless I have some empathy with
the basic theme. That insistence on empathy,
on realism. It led him away from the typical
Hollywood look, didn't it? The polished studio
bound aesthetic. Completely. He was actively
seeking cinematic realism. So how did he achieve
that practically? Good question. Well, he literally
took the camera out of the studio, out onto the
streets. He was a real pioneer of location shooting.
He wanted accuracy, grit, intensity, something
that felt almost like a documentary. Like panic
in the streets. Perfect example. 1950. shot entirely
on location in new orleans he used a style almost
cinema verite that just wasn't common in big
features then real people real places sometimes
handheld cameras it gave the drama this raw immediate
feeling unavoidable it sounds like the visual
equivalent of the method acting he championed
the actor digs for internal truth The camera
digs for external truth. That's a great way to
put it, precisely. And this whole quest for authenticity
profoundly shaped how he cast his films. He wasn't
big on the established star system, was he? Notoriously
skeptical. He said casting was 90 % of success,
and he strongly preferred unknowns. Why unknowns?
What was his reasoning? It was pretty blunt,
actually. He claimed big stars are barely trained
or not very well trained. They also have bad
habits. They're not pliable anymore. Pliable?
That word really stands out. It suggests he needed
actors who were, well, moldable, maybe without
the defenses or habits of established stars.
Yeah, actors he could shape, maybe even manipulate,
frankly. Our sources talk about his very intimate
psychological approach, taking actors to dinner,
meeting their families, finding the human material,
as he put it, that he needed to work with or
maybe exploit. Which brings us right to the star
-making legacy. It's incredible. Let's start
with the obvious one. Marlon Brando. Kazan had
already directed him on stage in Streetcar, but
the 1951 film version, that cemented Brando and
the method on screen forever. And Brando himself,
what did he say about Kazan? He called him gaj.
Yeah, he did. And he was incredibly complimentary,
called Kazan the best actor's director by far.
The only one who ever really stimulated me. High
praise. But there's a catch, isn't there? Brando
also called him an arch manipulator of actors'
feelings. There's the dichotomy again. What did
that manipulation actually look like on set?
How did Kazan operate? It was very conscious,
a psychological technique. He knew method acting
often involved accessing real emotional pain,
real vulnerabilities. And he wasn't afraid to
find those triggers. So for Brando, for example.
He'd identify Brando's personal tensions, maybe
his issues with authority, things from his past.
And then he'd subtly or sometimes not so subtly
bring those tensions into the rehearsal room.
Or even right before a take. Wow. So he wasn't
just directing the scene. He was kind of directing
the actor's real life into the scene. You could
say that. He was almost psychoanalyzing them
and then strategically provoking a reaction he
needed for the camera. That's ruthless. That
willingness to cross personal lines for the art,
that's where the genius and maybe the problematic
side really meet. It certainly illuminates that
central conflict we talked about. I mean, look
at James Dean in East of Eden, 1955. Kazan saw
that film as deeply autobiographical, didn't
he? About his own father. Yeah, my father and
me, he said. He cast Dean, this volatile unknown,
precisely because he saw the alienation the character
needed. He saw it in Dean. Kazan's description
of Dean is just raw. calling him an extreme grotesque
of a boy, a twisted boy, because of a denial
of love. It sounds less like director -actor,
more like therapist -patient, almost. It really
does. And the intensity was apparently off the
charts. Kazan had to practically babysit Dean.
They had trailers side by side. Kazan was constantly
afraid Dean would just bolt. Really? Yeah. He
had to manage Dean's real -life feelings of being
an outcast, his insecurities, to fuel that performance
of Caltrask. He was exhausting. But it resulted
in an Oscar nomination for Dean's very first
major film role. Incredible. And it wasn't just
the intense young man he discovered or shaped.
Right. Eva Marie Saint. Great example. One best
supporting actress for On the Waterfront, her
screen debut. How did he find her? The story
is fantastic. He had her do a surprise improvisation
with Brando, threw them together, and watching
them, Kazan instantly saw this chemistry, this
tension. He knew she had the vulnerability, but
also the underlying strength. Cast her right
there. Pure instinct. Amazing. No resume needed.
Just that raw connection. Then you've got Warren
Beatty and Natalie Wood in Splendor in the Grass,
1961. He introduced Beatty to the screen in that
one. Yep. Saw this certain confidence in Beatty,
the street spy, he called it. Beatty later said
Kazan gave him his most important break. He always
credited Kazan. And Natalie Wood. She was considered
kind of washed up at that point, wasn't she?
Despite being so young. Industry perception,
yeah. A few bad film choices, but Kazan looked
past that. He cast her and, according to critics,
got the greatest emotional heights of her entire
career out of her in that film. The results just
speak for themselves. His actors. What was the
total? 24 Oscar nominations. 24 nominations,
nine wins. That statistic alone tells you everything
about his power as an actor's director. The best
of his era, arguably. And let's not forget, he
was an actor's director for the writers, too.
Tennessee Williams, Arthur Miller. bud schulberg
he was instrumental in their careers on stage
and screen absolutely his relationship with tennessee
williams was particularly deep williams called
kazan his most loyal and understanding friend
there's that letter williams wrote him yeah 1959
williams wrote someday you will know how much
i value the great things you did with my work
how you lifted it above its measure by your great
gift wow high praise indeed Kazan was the bridge,
wasn't he? Translating that complex literary
drama into something visceral, something human,
on screen and stage. He really was. But that
ability to access deep truth, it came with complications.
Which leads us to the next unavoidable part of
the story. Okay, so now we have to turn to the
part of Kazan's legacy that, well... It just
complicates everything, the political reality.
This is where the director, obsessed with truth,
becomes this major political lightning rod. We're
talking about the Hollywood blacklist era, the
Red Scare. And specifically, April 1952, Kazan
testifies before the House Un -American Activities
Committee, HUAC. Right. And the context is key.
He had been a member of the Communist Party USA.
but only for a short time, about two years, back
in the mid -1930s. Now, when he first went before
HUAC, he actually refused to name names. He was
under immense pressure, obviously, but he went
back later that same month. And this time he
cooperated. Fully, as a friendly witness. He
named eight people he knew from his group theater
days who had also been party members, including
some big names like the playwright Clifford Odets
and actors Morris Karnofsky and Art Smith. An
act that was instantly divisive. And Kazan spent
the rest of his life defending it, didn't he?
He did. He framed it as choosing the only the
more tolerable of two alternatives, admitting
both were painful and wrong. But what really
set his case apart, what made it such a political
flashpoint, was what he did next. And his paper
ad. Exactly. He took out a full page ad in the
New York Times. times it was defiant. He urged
other people to cooperate with HUAC. He laid
out his own anti -communist stance and then came
that infamous line. I would rather hurt them
a little than hurt myself a lot. Yeah. That line,
it shifted his action from just self -preservation,
which many others did quietly, to this very public,
almost aggressive advocacy for naming names.
And our sources trace the roots of this intense
anti -communism. Back to his time in the group
theater, right? Yeah. Something happened there
in the 30s. That seems to be a key part of his
justification, yes. He felt betrayed by the Communist
Party years earlier. Apparently, the party leadership
wanted him to engineer a strike within the group
theater itself. Against the group's leadership,
Strasberg and Klerman. Seems so. And Kazan refused.
He felt it would be behaving treacherously towards
what he considered his artistic family. So he
felt the party itself had demanded a betrayal
first. That was his narrative. He resented the
party's demands for rigid discipline, for ideological
purity, for what he called confession and self
-humbling. He saw it as the opposite of the artistic
freedom the group represented. So decades later,
when Heat UAC came knocking, that old bitterness,
that sense of having been manipulated by the
party himself, seems to have fueled his decision
and his defiance. But regardless of his personal
motivations, the consequences for the people
he named were devastating. Immediate and severe.
Their names went on the blacklist. Their careers
were, as one source puts it, damaged if not shattered.
Art Smith, a really respected actor, couldn't
get significant work for years. The human cost
was enormous. And it fractured relationships
permanently. Arthur Miller, his friend, his collaborator.
Miller's reflection on it is just chilling. He
said his feelings were complex, but he admitted
seeing a side of Kazan that scared him. He believed
Kazan would have sacrificed me as well. Wow.
That just underscores the depth of the betrayal
people felt, the breakdown of trust. It does.
And, you know, Orson Welles had that famous quote
that sort of sums up the whole dilemma, doesn't
it? What was that? He called Kazan a traitor,
but then immediately added he is a very good
director. Genius versus moral compromise right
there. You can't deny the talent, but the label
traitor just sticks. And that tension never went
away. It exploded again almost 50 years later
in 1999 when the Academy decided to give Kazan
an honorary Oscar. That was hugely controversial.
I remember seeing it. Protests outside the ceremony.
Oh yeah, about 250 demonstrators picketing. And
inside, the atmosphere was electric when Kazan
came on stage. You could see it on TV. The audience
was completely split. Some people sitting stone
-faced, arms crossed. Ed Harris, Nick Nolte,
Ian McKellen, just refusing to clap. A silent
protest against his H -UAC testimony, right there
in the middle of the Oscars. But then others
stood up. Meryl Streep, Karl Malden, who was
in Waterfront, and streetcar Warren Beatty, they
gave him a standing ovation. Why did they say
they stood? What was the justification? Well,
George Stevens Jr., another director who applauded,
he sort of articulated that side, saying they
stood out of regard for the creativity, the stamina,
and the many fierce battles and lonely nights
that had gone into the man's 20 motion pictures,
recognizing the work. So it was Hollywood publicly
grappling with its own history. The honor wasn't
just for the films, it was for, as someone put
it, the totality of what he represents, controversy
included. Exactly. The division was stark. But
even that controversy, that deep split. It hasn't
stopped Kazan's influence from continuing. Like
Martin Scorsese. Perfect example. Scorsese co
-directed that documentary, A Letter to Alia,
in 2010. It's a really personal tribute. Scorsese
credits Kazan as a massive inspiration for his
own filmmaking. The style, the realism, the psychology.
All of it. That foundation Kazan laid, particularly
with the method and his approach to realism,
it's still fundamental to American cinema. Even
if the man himself remains, you know... deeply
complicated. So Elie Kazan passes away in 2003.
But that artistic force, that intense focus on
the personal, the psychological truth, it didn't
just disappear, did it? It seems like it flowed
right into his family. Yeah. Creating this really
fascinating multi -generational dynasty. It really
did. And you have to start with his first wife,
Molly Day Thatcher Kazan. She wasn't just the
wife. She was a significant figure herself. A
playwright. Yeah. A dramatist, a playwright,
graduated Vassar. to Yale Drama School. That's
where she met Ilya. She was active professionally,
even headed the playwriting division at the actor's
studio for a while until 62. So she was involved
in that world, professionally influential on
him even. Seems likely, yes. Although their marriage
was reportedly very difficult, strained by his
constant affairs, including, famously, with Marilyn
Monroe. Right. And Molly had a role in the political
side too, didn't she? according to some sources.
That's the interesting part. Sources describe
her as an especially bitter anti -communist,
and some even suggest she was the main author,
or at least heavily involved in writing, that
controversial New York Times ad where Elia defended
his testimony. Wow. So the political drama wasn't
just his, it was potentially a shared stance
within the immediate family. It adds another
layer, doesn't it? Now, this intensity, maybe
this complexity, too, seems to have passed down
to their son, Nicholas Kazan. Who became a successful
screenwriter, producer, director himself. Absolutely.
Kept that family tradition going, focusing on
complex characters. He got Oscar and Golden Globe
nominations for Best Adapted Screenplay for Reversal
of Fortune. The Claus von Bilo story. That was
huge in 1990. Yeah. And he wrote Francis before
that, another intense biographical drama. He
clearly had that knack for sharp, character -driven
stories. You see the lineage from his father
that focus on the interior lives. And Nicholas
married Robin Swickord, creating a real Hollywood
power couple. Definitely. Robin Swickord is a
major talent, screenwriter, director, particularly
known for literary adaptations. She directed
the Jane Austen Book Club. And her screenwriting
credits are amazing. Little Women from 94. Memoirs
of a Geisha, Matilda. She got an Oscar nomination
for the story credit on The Curious Case of Benjamin
Button. So talented. And she and Nicholas collaborated
on Matilda, right? Adapting Roald Dahl. They
did. It really shows how that passion for storytelling,
for screenwriting, became a family business in
a way. And Robin Swickard is still very active,
serves on the Board of Governors for the Academy.
Okay, so that brings us to the third generation,
the grandchildren. And this is where it gets
really interesting, with the continuation of
that artistic spirit. Zoe Kazan, Nicholas, and
Robin's daughter. Right, and Zoe embodies that
multi -talented spirit, maybe most clearly. She's
highly accomplished as both an actress and a
writer. Moves between stage and screen just like
her grandfather did, in a way. She made her Broadway
debut back in 2008, got an Emmy nomination for
all of Kitteridge. Fantastic miniseries. But
what's really striking is how she also... takes
control of the narrative, much like Elia did
with America. She writes her own material. Absolutely.
She wrote and starred in Ruby Sparks. That was
a big indie hit in 2012. Love that film. And
she co -wrote Wildlife in 2018, which was critically
acclaimed. Plus, she's continued acting in major
stuff like The Big Sick, The Plot Against America.
She clearly has that drive to write, to perform,
to shape her own path. It seems like a direct
inheritance. And her sister, Maya Kazan. Also
an actress, carrying on that performance tradition,
she's probably best known for TV roles like Eleanor
Gallinger in The Nick. Oh, right. And Mabel Thompson
in Boardwalk Empire. Exactly. And she's done
acclaimed stage work, too. Critics praised her
in The Winter's Tale for her natural radiance,
unassuming intelligence and gentleness. It's
pretty remarkable, isn't it? How that intensity,
that focus needed for both writing and performing,
which was so central to Aaliyah Kazan's genius,
seems to have been passed down through three
generations. It really is. The legacy isn't just
about a specific style, maybe, but about that
deep dedication to finding emotional truth. truth,
whatever the medium. Hashtag, tag, tag, outro,
outro. So as we wrap up this deep dive, we're
left reflecting on Ilya Kazan. I mean, what a
force. His relentless drive to put personal experience
on screen, his own background, his conflicts,
his fears. He gave us these absolute masterpieces.
On the waterfront, east of Eden, a streetcar
named Desire. Gentleman's Agreement 2. Right.
He truly defines so much of mid -20th century
American culture, artistically just immense.
And that's why he remains so studied, so debated.
I mean, think about Dustin Hoffman saying he
doubted whether he, De Niro, or Pacino would
have even become actors without DeSantis' influence.
That's huge. The method, that dive into psychological
realism, that's his undeniable gift to acting,
to filmmaking. But the political shadow, the
HUAC testimony, that remains the cost, the complication.
And that cost, that whole tangled legacy of loyalty,
betrayal, art. politics, it's actually being
revisited right now in a uniquely personal way
by the next generation. Yeah, this is fascinating.
Remember how Alia Kazan felt East of Eden was
so deeply autobiographical? That story of fathers
and sons, rejection, acceptance. Claimed it was
the story of him and his own father. Exactly.
Well, guess who's writing and executive producing
a brand new seven episode TV adaptation of East
of Eden right now? Granddaughter. Zoe Kazan.
Zoe Kazan. She is actively reshaping the very
narrative her grandfather called his most personal.
That connection is just incredibly powerful,
isn't it? The dynasty revisiting its foundational
text, in a way, a text loaded with themes of
family, loyalty, betrayal, all the baggage of
Elia's own life. It really is. So it leaves us
with a pretty provocative question, something
for you, the listener, to think about. As this
Kazan dynasty takes on this crucial story again.
What new truths, what different perspectives,
maybe what kind of reckoning about the American
dream, about ambition, about family secrets,
what will this generation choose to reveal? Especially
given they've inherited both the artistic gifts
and the moral complexities of that Kazan name.
What will their East of Eden tell us? That deep
dive, as you say, is definitely still in progress.
Indeed it is. We'll leave you chewing on that.
Thanks for joining us for this deep dive.