From 1948 to 1956 film director Nicholas Ray was at the height of his creative powers. During that time period he created at least five films that have gone on to be classics: “They Live by Night,” “In a Lonely Place,” “The Lusty Men,” “Johnny Guitar” and “Rebel Without a Cause.” Film historian Patrick McGilligan does here what he did with his Hitchcock bio, providing a thoroughly researched biography of the life and works of a great film director. But unlike Hitchcock, Ray’s personal life often draws more attention than his creative, artistic work. Nicholas Ray was an addict of alcohol, sex, gambling and drugs. Though an iron constitution helped him to fend off the effects early in his career, the addictions, as they always do, caught up with his mental and physical health. By the late fifties and early sixties, he was in such bad shape that other people completed his films “Wind Across the Everglades,” “King of Kings,” and “55 Days at Peking.” McGilligan details Ray’s rise from leftist theatre groups to Hollywood, which eventually led to career threatening trouble with the HUAC. Ray managed to avoid the blacklist by giving testimony (and presumably naming names) in a secret session, but he lost many early friends in doing so.
Ray’s personal life was an endless parade of female sexual partners (including Marilyn Monroe) and the occasional male. His second marriage to actress Gloria Grahame was already on the ropes when he discovered his 13-year-old son and Grahame having sex. Ray himself had relations with some actresses in his films including an underage Natalie Wood.
Critics, especially influential French critics, found much to admire in Ray’s work. But as McGilligan points out, Ray increasingly had abandoned smaller, arty films for the very large-scale productions he had once admonished. Probably the most telling anecdote is from a meeting Ray had with Luis Bunuel in the early sixties. Bunuel said that the secret to his success was in asking for a small salary, adjusting his films to a small budget, and then filming them as he liked. Bunuel said, “’You’re a famous director. Why not try an experiment? You’ve just finished a picture that cost 5 million dollars. Why not try one for 400,000 dollars and see for yourself how much freer you are?’” Ray responded, “’You don’t understand! If I did that in Hollywood, everyone would think I was going to pieces. They’d say I was on the skids, and I’d never make another movie.’”
Even with his personal upheaval, Ray managed to attract financiers and creative partners for new films until the early sixties, when his unreliability caught up with him. Lacking projects, he moved to an island and his progressive self-destruction continued: “He moved to increasingly smaller houses, leaving behind unfinished scripts, personal mementos, heaps of refuse, and, always, unpaid bills. The director drank to stay awake and drank to fall asleep; he took any drugs on offer, in this era when the variety of available stimulants snowballed.”
Though Ray found late career interest from young film students (including work on a film about the Chicago 7), he was never able to find financing for the many projects he continued to pursue. He did small acting jobs in “The American Friend” and “Hair,” but his last “acting” was a film by Wim Wenders covering his last days as he died from lung cancer in 1979.
McGilligan’s fine biography is a must read for anyone film lover wanting to learn more about one of the greatest and most controversial American film directors. Recommended.