THE ULTIMATE purpose of creative filmmaking has little or nothing to do with recording or communicating the exact reality of society, or its citizens, at the precise period or era when such creative films are being made.  Such a mission of recorded realism is better served by documentaries and TV coverage. Does that mean that creative filmmaking is ultimately rooted in escapism or fantasy as entertainment, or distortions of ‘reality’? Not at all. What it means is that such filmmaking has the opportunity to create artistic models of a better ‘reality’ for society and those citizens who are sensible and sane enough to understand that ‘better’ here means an interest in the pursuit of education, knowledge, art on the whole, plus sensual pleasure; all of which enhance a positive daily outlook and appreciation of unavoidable economic, social, political, national and international co-operation, rather than conflict.

However, the truth is that such a creative opportunity in filmmaking (and in the other arts as well, especially literature, drama, and music) is not as explored by a jaded nonchalant outlook today, in contrast to an earlier classic Hollywood era from the 1930s to the 70s, and in European cinema from the 1940s to the 80s. But from the perspective of serious film, viewers who know that even the most recent films have no true advantage over films made thirty to seventy years ago, the attraction and pleasure of viewing such earlier films comes from a personal code of conduct and strength viewers have gained from exposure to many of these vintage films.

It is the specific suggestive nature of these films which provide meaningful values and pleasure, not the outward social reality of the ‘times’ depicted in them, or even the entertaining cathartic visual shock some may offer. Stimulating age-old ‘artistic models’ may be used in spectacular films, but another ‘artistic model’ more relevant to the actual personal lives of international film viewers remains quite alive in an awesome supply of  beautiful American and European films made between the 1930s and 80s.

Take a recognized masterpiece like ‘MILDRED PIERCE’ of the 1940s, directed by Michael Curtiz, whose fame, as everyone knows, rests on ‘CASABLANCA’ of the 40s as well. ‘MILDRED PIERCE’, first of all, alerts us to its  personal nature by being the name of a woman; this is a feature once quite prevalent in older films, which immediately tells us the film is about a person (not necessarily a heroine), not an idea, or fantastic society, or city, or historical era, or future civilization.

Of course, in this film, the environment, the houses, the cars, the household gadgets, the police  uniforms, the music heard etc, are what existed at the time when the film was made, but such features are minor, and not what ‘MILDRED PIERCE’ is really about. Rather, the film concerns a sheltered middleclass woman, separated from her professional husband, who must now support herself and two daughters. She finds a job as a waitress in a busy restaurant, and through the help of two male business partners, starts her own restaurant, which becomes a successful chain of similar restaurants.

Of course, problems, some serious, accompany her success: Her youngest daughter dies of pneumonia, and the elder one becomes spoilt by her mother’s wealth and rebelliously develops an intimate relationship with her mother’s aristocratic business partner and lover.

Cinematic pleasure in this film is subtle and suggestive in isolated episodes and moments which show viewers the satisfaction which hard work, co-operation and planning can produce. Such cinematic pleasure is not defined by images of emotionally jolting episodes, fleshy sensuality, or romantic situations alone; cinematic pleasure is also the offer of temperamental, social, and calm contemplative human values which film viewers must notice and receive.

Scenes or moments as self-sufficient conveyers of cinematic pleasure depend on the suggestive skill of visual presentations, which are connected to the experience of humans in society, rather than simply our emotional reaction to extraordinary spectacles, events, appearances which solicit only our frenzied corporeal response.  For instance, when Mildred decides to open her own restaurant, she is encouraged by the same tall, smart-talking manageress of the first restaurant which hired her as a waitress. In one scene when they discuss their business plans, Mildred’s tall efficient friend prepares to smoke a cigarette and strikes her match on the sole of her high-heel pumps. The scene quickly establishes her ‘take charge’ feminine power, and is quite pleasant to watch because of the bold, confident social freedom it suggests.

Even when Hollywood’s restrictions in that era prevented explicit sexual scenes, the result can provide suggestive pleasure; for instance, when Mildred (Joan Crawford) is seduced by Zachary Scott at his beach house, instead of explicitly showing us Scott ‘digging out’ Crawford on the drawing room carpet, we are shown the record player with the record he has put on becoming stuck, its needle bumping repeatedly in a groove, as Mildred and he are busy with each other. The whole scene is so ridiculously quaint and ‘camp’ by today’s standards, it makes us have a good laugh.

Suggestiveness in many aspects can be used as an exciting creative motivation and style in the hands of specific actresses; and probably the general modest, hesitant, reticent nature of the feminine psyche offers the development of creative suggestiveness. An actress like Eva Marie Saint, with her characteristic whimsical withdrawn air, often appears as the embodiment of ideal suggestive pleasure acting as a remedy for the male ego in need of reform or feminine comfort. This is evident in one of her greatest roles as the quiet young school teacher in New York’s tough 1950s waterfront neighbourhoods in the Hollywood classic, ‘ON THE WATERFRONT’ of 1954. Marie Saint’s fragile yet sensuous characterization is highlighted by the opposite male aggressiveness and crude logic of dock worker, Marlon Brando.

In one scene, where Brando tries to convince Marie Saint of his reformed bad habits as she nervously avoids him in the humble apartment she shares with her father, a waterfront labourer, the camera makes good use of Marie Saint’s nervous body outlined beneath the flimsy undergarments Brando found her in. The opposites of her modesty and half-dressed appearance, contrasted with Brando’s persuasive reasoning and rough, working class clothing, suggests the possibility of a balanced intimate and mental pleasure between them, which explicitness and coarse language would not equal.

Marie Saint went on to project even more suave suggestive physical and mental pleasure in her stunning role as Cary Grant’s train companion and romantic friend in Alfred Hitchcock’s exciting classic of 1959, ‘NORTH BY NORTHWEST’. This may sound judgmental, but one major reason why suggestive cinematic pleasure is not such a noticeable and popular aspect of  Hollywood films today is because it is  not a simple or easy task for screenwriters, directors, or actors. Cinematic pleasure produced by suggestive scene structure has become rare or even unknown because the medium of filmmaking has become a commonplace technical pastime (anyone can take a ‘course’ in filmmaking, buy a camera, and record anything), but to thoughtfully create integrated scene structures, using visual and linguistic data, is completely another matter.

The first question filmmakers pursuing suggestive cinematic pleasure probably ask themselves is: “What is my approach to my project?” In other words, how will they present what viewers see and hear. The easiest way to avoid such questions is to make films which simply play back to audiences in a straightforward f
ashion how they are known to behave, speak, even think; or films which startle and shock viewers with monstrosities.

This leads us right back to behavioural trends dominating cinematic and also literary topics today, whereas unique creative scene structures of a much more ideal, contemplative, complex yet pleasurable nature have gone out the window. A whole new commercial, as opposed to artistic definition of filmmaking, has emerged over recent decades, geared to the manufacture of similar fickle, disposable films reflecting frantic neuroses in washed-out colour; and with the decline of re-run big screen cinemas and the surge of small-screen home-movies, plus in-flight movies, we should not be surprised at the barrage of unartistic and unimportant films emerging to fill such specific transitory commercial venues.

To really appreciate and understand what distinguishes better and, subsequently, much more pleasurable films from trite commercial ones, we inevitably encounter the role of suggestiveness as a key creative value in such films. Such a value comes directly from the cultured mind, the knowledge and talent of screenwriters and directors first and foremost, who, despite today’s deluge of explicitness, continue to explore suggestive cinematic pleasure.

John Huston’s last masterpiece film, ‘THE MISFITS’  of 1961, for example, provided Marilyn Monroe with the role she always wanted, which perfectly demonstrated her combined physical and mental powers. Writer, Arthur Miller, and Director Huston of ‘THE MISFITS’ understood the importance of selfsufficient scene structures, as opposed to commonplace plots and typical dramatic storylines, so they utilized Monroe’s physical assets and gentle attitude to provide highly suggestive cinematic pleasure.

Three scenes in the films are classic moments: (1) When Monroe steps in and out the ranch door, enhancing her action by repeating a description of it: “You go in and come out, you go in and come out, you…” etc; (2) when she plays the dingbat at a rodeo fair, striking a tennis ball attached to the racket by a string, which makes her figure swing rhythmically, raising male desire and causing a riot; and (3) when clad in tight cowboy jeans, she rides in the desert with the camera focused on her behind rising and falling in the saddle.

The importance of these scenes are not relevant to Monroe’s sexy figure alone, but show every viewer examples of pleasure generated by simple commonplace human behaviour. Similarly, a wonderfully unique actress like Deborah Kerr defined her style with roles which explored the intrinsic suggestive pleasure attracting female to male, and vice versa.

Behind Kerr’s always considerate, refined, sophisticated behaviour and speech is a bold passionate potential which flares up delightfully in suggestive scene structures of enormous visual pleasure. Three films, ‘THE HUCKSTERS’ (1946),  ‘FROM HERE TO ETERNITY’ (1953), and ‘THE ARRANGEMENT’ (1969) are outstanding examples of how suggestive pleasure is projected in the hands of its best artists like Deborah Kerr.

In 1969, Kerr and the profound director, Elia Kazan made their last great films together: ‘THE ARRANGEMENT’. In it, Kerr probably surprised many film viewers with the total exposure of her mature body, revealing all its voluptuousness beneath a silver slip, and in that memorable scene when faced with her husband’s (Kirk Douglas) confessed infidelity with a younger woman (Faye Dunaway), she stands alone on their bedroom balcony then walks back to their bed where Douglas waits, disrobing and exposing the full splendour of her mature body which slips between transparent curtains, like the final gesture of  suggestive pleasure which all couples, everywhere, desire to preserve.

But it is in ‘FROM HERE TO ETERNITY’ of 1953 where Kerr and Burt Lancaster, under Fred Zinnemann’s sharp direction, left the world one of it greatest cinematic moments of suggestive pleasure, when Kerr as the unhappy wife of Lancaster’s superior officer, escapes with him to a Hawaiian beach, and, in her bathing suit, lies on top of Lancaster as they kiss passionately with waves foaming at their prostrate feet like a natural symbol of nature’s cosmic sexuality.

This is the essence of suggestive cinematic pleasure, defined unforgettably by such scene-structure as an ever-fresh cinematic moment. This is the scene which immortalized the poster for ‘FROM HERE TO ETERNITY’, and without such skillfully created moments, the most expensive recent films will nevertheless fail to match both the creation of such vintage visual posters and the films they promoted, such as ‘FROM HERE TO ETERNITY’.

Suggestive cinematic pleasure is therefore one of the foremost pillars on which the best of Hollywood, and film culture in general, have been founded.