"Was she feeble minded? My mother...was she?"

Montgomery Clift.  The name makes me happy and sad.  Happy because I believe that his great talent has actually enriched my life.  And yet he's not a household name.

I think he was the best actor of his generation.  Maybe of any generation.  He had a subtlety that Brando couldn't even come close to.  Monty seemed to become a character, like he could remold himself for every new film.

His performances frequently take my breath away. 

Here, in a brief appearance in the star studded 1961 film Judgement at Nuremburg, Clift plays a man whose destroyed life is put on the stand in a post WWII trial against German judges who served during the Nazi regime.  Clift, who had about ten minutes of screen time total, was nominated for an Academy Award for his effort.  A clip:

 

 

Students of acting should see this, should study it.  Clift has found a way to portray the story of a man that perhaps had dreams like any other person, but ends up totally shattered.  He tells his story with few words.  And yet, he says all there is to say. 

The pain behind Clift's sensitive eyes, the tensing muscles around his mouth; he was totally in control of his performance.  I have heard many people argue that he didn't have to act, that his train wreck of a life gave the performance for him.  They cite as proof Clift's shaking in this scene (you can see it around the 8:40 and 9:00 marks) from his excessive drug and alcohol use, not to mention failing physical and mental health after a car wreck destroyed his face years earlier.

Maybe that's why he didn't win the Oscar.  It was too easy to accept that such a believable and (in my opinion) important performance was a fluke given by a man who was seemingly pretty destroyed, himself.

I argue that Clift knew what he was doing.  The man he was portraying was fragile but proud, especially as he walks into the courtroom and states his name and profession (not seen in the above clip).  This changes as he recounts the single most horrifying experience of his life.  He's been treated like an animal, sterilized based on his perceived intelligence in the name of cultivating a mythical "master race."

As he tells the story of what happened, he gets quieter and he fidgets in his seat.  At the 1:50 and 2:08 marks, it appears that he can't even bring himself to name what was done to him.  And when he is asked point blank by an attorney, "Were you, in fact, sterilized?" he again can't bring himself to say the words.  Instead he seems to hesitate and then forces himself to give a nod. 

The next three seconds, it seems to me, are acting brilliance.  In shame, Clift looks down and then gives a quick sideways glance to the presiding judges.  These subtle eye movements say volumes.  It is as if his manhood, besides his humanity, were destroyed, and he is embarrassed to have everyone in the court know.  All the layers have been stripped.  This man, who seemed proud and ready to please when he first walked in, is now bare and exposed.  This is all understood because of three seconds of eye movements. 

His break down intensifies as he talks about his mother, and the shaking worsens.  We need no back story.  We can tell by the way the man speaks about his mother that she was something else that they took from him.

His proclamation, "Since that day, I've been half I've ever been," is an emotional crescendo, as the weight of all that the character has been through, including the humiliation he endured during the trial, breaks him down for one last moment on the screen. 

Even towards the end of his (too short) life, Montgomery Clift could display more talent in three seconds than most actors in their entire careers.  The fact that he stood out in a film amongst acting greats like Spencer Tracy, Marlene Dietrich, Burt Lancaster, and Judy Garland, proves that further.