A Changing World: Filmmaker Frank Perry’s 1960s
The 1960s – one of the most significant periods of mass socio-political change and strife in recent American history. Nestled in the midst of impending nuclear war and the escalating civil rights movement, a stronger independent film community was budding. The expansion of Hollywood in the 60s inspired a counterculture response from artists who took a strong stance against the aesthetics and politics of mainstream media. With lower budgets and fewer constraints, independent filmmakers were able to experiment with new techniques and narrative structures – free from the commercial pressures of the industry. Scott MacDonald, who has written extensively about independent cinema, stated that filmmakers were given “the opportunity to play with cinema, to make films just to see, and share what the results might look like.” This was especially true for director Frank Perry, who lacked any kind of technical film experience before taking on his first feature film. Despite an absence of formal film education or mentorship, Perry was able to create a vast array of work with boundary-pushing images and poignant, subtle political commentary.
Though he is not as discussed as John Cassavetes or Jim Jarmusch, Frank Perry remains an important influence on American independent cinema. When reflecting on his work in 1993, Perry described his filmography as a celebration of “what it is to be human: vulnerability, fallibility, fragility.” Perry began his creative career working as a stage manager and associate producer for the Theater Guild. After marrying his wife, Eleanor Perry, in 1960, Frank’s career shifted into the film industry. Eleanor, over ten years his senior, became Frank’s closest collaborator and wrote screenplays for six of his films. David and Lisa (1960) was the first film the Perry’s worked on as a couple, with Frank as the director and Eleanor as the screenwriter. Though independently produced with a budget of just $200,000, David and Lisa became a critical and commercial success. The film earned the Perrys two Academy Award nominations, Best Director and Best Adapted Screenplay, as well as awards at prominent film festivals. Despite their initial acclaim, Frank and Eleanor’s few films following David and Lisa did not receive the same accolades. The Swimmer (1968) is perhaps the most notable of these films as it has gained much retrospective appreciation, even earning a cult classic status. As a whole, Frank Perry’s wide-ranging filmography can be reasonably unified under the themes of gender roles, American class strife, mental instability, and the complexities of youthful morality.
In his early career, it’s clear that Perry was more focused on the culture of American youth in the sixties. Released a year after David and Lisa, Ladybug Ladybug (1963) is a fairly straightforward anti-war film set amidst the ongoing crisis of the Cold War. The film explores the pressures that the threat of nuclear war placed on the youth as well as potential lasting traumas. Set during the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962, the central conflict of Ladybug Ladybug stems from a faulty air raid warning system at a rural elementary school. The principal is unsure if there is truly a bomb incoming or if the machine is simply broken. After a series of vague and unhelpful phone calls, the principal decides to enact the “go home” procedure – sending groups of students off with a designated teacher who will walk them home.
Within the first five minutes of Ladybug Ladybug, one of the young students is prompted to give a definitive answer to a true or false question. The student responds, “What if we think the statement is not true or false, but in between?” Of course, the teacher finds this to be a preposterous inquiry. In his mind, everything is black and white. There is no gray territory. This interaction blatantly sets up what the film will continue to investigate – the gray territory of life. At the surface level, the fear of a lack of clarity is represented by the air raid warning system. The principal and other employees are, reasonably, sent into a spiral when forced to question that which is meant to provide conclusive information about whether their lives are in danger or not.
The reveal that the alarm system was simply faulty comes too late for Mrs. Andrew and her group of children, who are already making their way through the countryside. Mrs. Andrew’s quiet, building anxiety is evident through her shaky walk. The children have varying reactions to the potential of an incoming bomb. At the beginning of their trek, the students seem playful and lightly unconcerned, chatting loudly and singing catchy songs. Wide shots of the group parading through an empty and vast landscape emphasizes the feeling of impending doom. Overall, the black and white, lonely cinematography creates a sufficiently eerie atmosphere. One shot that particularly stands out is a low, medium-close on a dead squirrel in the road. The students walk past but we see only their legs in frame as they trail off into the distance. The dead squirrel spawns a conversation about death, sending some of the younger students spiraling.
The children eventually begin to break off from the groups as they return home. Two of the young girls are in hysterics, trying to explain the danger to their parents. The parents, however, are aloof and dismissive of their children. Some are even simply upset that the kids are “playing hooky,” completely ignoring their distress. After leaving Mrs. Andrew, there is a significant lack of adult presence in the film. The children are forced to exist in the gray area of confusion on their own. Some of the students decide to hide together in one of the girls’ bomb shelters. Jill, one of the older students, takes charge of the group by implementing rations and rules.
It’s interesting to watch the children grapple with their mortality and make difficult decisions in the midst of what they perceive as an apocalyptic scenario. Jill chooses to take on an authoritative, more “adult,” role while Steve, the other older student in the bunker, initially resorts to nihilistic pouting. One of the other girls in Mrs. Andrew’s group, Sarah, is clearly wealthier than the other students – who live on seemingly rundown farms. She returns home to her large, clean house but finds it empty. In a panic, she runs to Jill’s bomb shelter and begs to be let in. This presents a complex scenario for the students in the shelter. They can let Sarah in and have a lack of resources or they can let her possibly die out in the open. Jill easily prioritizes her own well-being and refuses to allow Sarah in. Steve, however, decides to go out and find Sarah, even though he could be risking his own life.
At times, the unambiguous dialogue and melodrama of Ladybug Ladybug leads the film to feel a tad repetitive. There is perhaps too much irony in Jill saying, “I would expect the leaders of this country to know what they’re doing.” This surface level commentary could be attributed to the naive way children perceive the world. Perry’s strong anti-nuclear warfare stance is more dynamically executed in the second half of the film by focusing on how the students choose to handle the situation. Though not necessarily matching the intensity of Fail-Safe (1964) or layered commentary of Dr. Strangelove (1964), the ending of Ladybug Ladybug sends a sufficiently harrowing warning about the scarring effects living in constant fear of nuclear war had on the mental stability of young Americans.
Last Summer (1969) follows the same vein of commentary on American youth, centering around a trio of apathetic teens. During a summer vacation on Fire Island, two adolescent boys (Dan and Peter) come across a beautiful young woman (Sandy) tending to an injured seagull. Though they initially reject helping her, Dan and Peter find her intriguing and follow Sandy to her house. The group tends to the bird’s injuries together. This is an effective opening to the film; having the protagonists help an injured animal makes them appear to be virtuous people, which will be subverted later on. The first potential red flag is Sandy immediately claiming the seagull as a pet instead of releasing it back into the wild.
We watch the trio grow closer to each other as they galavant across the sandy dunes, against a background of upper-class vacation homes. The exclusivity of the island predicates that white, wealthy teens will have similar experiences and be able to relate. Sandy, Dan, and Peter tell stories about their adolescent lives, laughing while sharing beers. In contrast to the boys’ asinine stories about spitting in their cousin’s food and such, Sandy nonchalantly brings up being sexually assaulted by her father. They all quickly move past the notion and continue on with their frivolous antics. Like in Ladybug Ladybug, there is almost no adult presence in the film. We briefly see Sandy’s dad and hear her mom off screen, but other than these two instances we only hear about parents through the children.
One of the first truly jarring scenes occurs about a third of the way into the film. In the middle of the beach, Sandy throws her leashed seagull into the air repeatedly and yells in an effort to get it to fly. The bird simply crashes to the ground each time. A younger, reserved girl, Rhoda, approaches the group and scolds them for treating the animal in such an abusive manner. Rhoda explains that they stripped the seagull of its identity; it won’t fly because it no longer believes itself to be a bird. The teenagers predictably laugh off her concern, regarding her as nothing more than a prude. Ultimately, the seagull acts as a foil for Rhoda – an innocent fallen victim to the pressure and cruelty of the trio.
Despite her disapproval of their actions, Rhoda still desires to be friends with Sandy, Dan, and Peter. She has a particular affinity for Peter, one that Peter returns. The budding romance between Rhoda and Peter comes somewhat as a surprise as he initially seemed interested in Sandy. Rhoda is the complete opposite of Sandy, who hypersexualizes herself and enjoys manipulating others for entertainment. Her small, slipping bikinis and tanned body contrast Rhoda’s conservative one pieces and awkward pre-pubescent form.
Frank Perry’s interest in analyzing the traditional structures of gender and Eleanor’s skillful screenwriting definitely come into play in the dichotomy between the two female characters. David, like many adolescent men, categorizes women into two theoretical boxes: sexual and non-sexual. He only takes interest in the sexual woman, Sandy, because he can gain something from his relationship to her – pleasure. He ignores and infantilizes the non-sexual woman, Rhoda, because her intelligence and strong morals will only serve to irritate him; he does not gain anything from her. David is hyper-fixated on his goal for summer of losing his virginity, likely feeling emasculated by his lack of sexual experience. Peter’s relationship to Rhoda is more complex. While he does admit his attraction to her, he treats her with more kindness and intrigue than the others in the trio, who simply view Rhoda as a silly pawn for amusement. We are left to consider where Peter’s regard for her stems from. Is it truly affection or is it simply a masculine sexual desire to take a woman’s innocence? Perhaps it is only the fact that Rhoda is so physically youthful and sexually naïve that appeals to him. Peter’s slightly less abrasive nature is classic “nice guy” characterization. Maybe he is not himself capable of enacting violence, but he is certainly capable of supporting others who do.
When the seagull is no longer a useful source of entertainment to Sandy, she kills it and leaves its mangled body in the woods. Her attention diverts to interrogating and embarrassing Rhoda. Like with the bird, Sandy also eventually strips Rhoda of her identity. By the end of the film, Rhoda’s slight shift from her adolescent purity is signified by her wearing a bikini, something she previously refused to do. This change could simply indicate how she has become more comfortable in her sexuality, but considering the external pressures, it does not appear to be a decision she made on her own.
The paralyzing final ten minutes of Last Summer truly differentiate it from other coming of age movies, with the exception of Catherine Breillat’s À ma sœur (2001). The violence Rhoda suffers at the hand of her peers, and potential lover, leave her just as ravaged as the seagull. She is alone and helpless; the trio will continue on with their lives. Sandy, Dan, and Peter each use their privilege to victimize others, going beyond just Rhoda. The trio will not face consequences for their actions, making them likely to continue their cruelty in adult life.
Released just before the turn of the decade, Last Summer reflects on how young adults expressed their discontent with the modern world. While American adolescents coming of age in the sixties were impassioned about committing to significant social change, others were resigned to detachment and apathy. The latter group were predominantly white and upper class. There was no necessity for them to be in tune to the politics of the Civil Rights Movement or the Vietnam War. With Last Summer, Frank Perry was able to capture the playful essence of teenage years that could be relatable to many, as well as the frightening potential of excessive ennui and ignorance in youth.
Going into the 70s, Frank Perry’s films continued to build on the themes established in his early work. Leaning more towards narrow character studies, Frank and Eleanor’s last creative collaboration as a couple was Diary of a Mad Housewife (1970). This was the Perrys’ first critically acclaimed film since David and Lisa. Carrie Snodgress received much praise for her performance as a lonely, emotionally and sexually frustrated housewife, even earning an Academy Award nomination. A decade after his split from Eleanor, Frank directed his most infamous film, Mommie Dearest (1981). Mommie Dearest was an adaptation of Christina Crawford’s biography/exposé of her adopted mother, Joan Crawford. Both audiences and critics were unanimously confused by the film. While dealing with abuse and other serious topics, the film also had a darkly humorous and extravagant atmosphere that unsettled many viewers. Like The Swimmer, Mommie Dearest has become somewhat of a cult classic in more recent years.
Though it’s difficult to classify Frank Perry’s vast filmography, that ranges from the minimalism of Ladybug Ladybug to the absurdism of Hello Again (1987), his impact as a director is undeniable. Going into his career with little functioning knowledge of film, Perry consistently captured the complexities of human nature through the flaws evident in American socio-political culture. He possessed a unique creative charm and wit that allowed him to make even the most unpleasant protagonists engaging or even sympathetic to the viewers. Many of Perry’s films are, unfortunately, not easily accessible to the public. Despite this, even his less acclaimed films are certainly worth searching for.
Written by Lauren Frison
You can support Lauren Frison in the following places:
X (Twitter): @paranoidzpark
Letterboxd: /suspiriaz
