This classic of American cinema was initially banned in Milwaukee.
A few weeks ago, I took a look at the efforts of the Milwaukee Motion Picture Commission’s (MMPC) efforts to keep The Outlaw, a racy western, from playing at the downtown Towne Theater. The story is an interesting one, but the “art” at the center of the drama is really worth defending on principle only. The Outlaw is a bore of a picture, worth seeing more because of its backstory (and, yes, even seventy years later, because of Jane Russell) than any dramatic merits it may possess. But almost a decade after the battle for The Outlaw, the MMPC took on a film that is today considered to be an American classic and a major cultural artifact of the 1950s.
Buoyed by their victory over The Outlaw, the MMPC took on a number of low-budget art films in the early 1950s, barring some from the city and trimming others of tart language. These battles were largely under the radar. Art films had their niche, but were not the work of the major Hollywood studios. But in the mid-1950s, a new wave of film from the studios were aimed squarely at the youth market. This was a group of moviegoers the studios badly wanted to keep as customers. In the post-war years, the movie business entered a financial tailspin and major releases traded in ever more daring material in an effort to turn a profit.
The MMPC also tried to keep 1955’s Blackboard Jungle from Milwaukee, fearing its depiction of teenage crime would inspire a local youth crime wave.
This new strategy from Hollywood happened to coincide with an alarming growth in what would become known as “juvenile delinquency.” Petty crime, premarital sex, out-of-wedlock births, drinking, and drug use among young people all jumped during the post-war years and continued to climb in the decade after. The problem of teenage misbehavior was painted by the media as a largely urban problem, as major cities were overrun with news items about youthful hoodlums, dope fiends, and sex maniacs. Take, for example, this line of copy from a 1956 campaign flyer slamming Mayor Frank Zeilder for his laxity on teen crime: “Youthful hoodlum mobs, often excited by marijuana and drinking parties, raging Milwaukee with wolfpack viciousness, [and] ‘dragging’ our streets in danger-ridden hotrods…”
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The MMPC took it upon itself to do what other city officials could not – keep juvenile delinquency out of Milwaukee. Their first blow came against the 1955 MGM film Blackboard Jungle, itself a minor classic. In the film, English teacher Richard Dadier (Glenn Ford) is assigned to an inner-city boy’s school plagued by student misconduct. The film’s rawness was punctuated by Bill Haley & His Comets’ “Rock Around the Clock,” which tore through theaters during the opening and end titles.
Bill Haley & His Comets provided the soundtrack for Blackboard Jungle with a raucous tune that punctuated the dangerous message the MMPC felt the film conveyed.
The commission was appalled by the film, calling it “a gross exaggeration” and feared that juvenile delinquents who “were not of (the commission’s) intelligence level” would not be able to safely process the meaning of the film. The commission found the overall tone of the film to be objectionable and demanded three different screenings of the picture – at least one with Common Council, school board, and police department representatives in attendance – before finally agreeing to allow it to play with several deletions.
Given the smash hit MGM had in Blackboard Jungle, it was assured that more teenage delinquency pictures, both from the studios and beyond, would soon follow. Warner Brothers had their own “teensploitation” picture in the works in the spring of 1955. Warner executives had kept a close watch on Blackboard Jungle as the opening of production drew closer and would have been quick to pull the plug if public backlash against the film proved too toxic. But as it became clear MGM’s gamble had paid off, Warner Brothers gave the project top priority. Scenes that had already been filmed in black and white were even scrapped and reshot in Cinemascope color. By mid-summer, Rebel Without a Cause had completed filming.
In October, the MMPC got their first look at the picture. The commission had been especially vigilant since Blackboard Jungle, demanding that scenes depicting switchblade use be removed from juvenile delinquency pictures Teen-Age Crime Wave and City Across the River. But in Rebel Without a Cause, they faced a far greater challenge. Less than a month before the picture was due to be released, actor James Dean had been killed in a Southern California car wreck. Dean’s star had been rising throughout the year and Rebel was to be his first leading role. Dean’s death, paired with the buzz the picture had already been generating, gave it considerable momentum heading into its release.
Jim Stark (James Dean) drunkenly plays with a toy monkey in the opening scene of Rebel Without a Cause. This was one of a number of scenes that had be removed from the film before it could play in Milwaukee.
The commission’s reaction to the film was one of disgust. “Too vicious and terrifying to be shown…” said one commissioner. “This is a serious affront to the very basic importance of the family in our American way of life…” said another. “A hodge-podge of nonsensical drivel…” “Films should build up, not tear down morals…” “A real stinker…” On October 21st, the commission informed the local Warner Brothers branch manager that the commission had unanimously ruled the film was not to be shown in Milwaukee, adding that the police department would “vigorously object” to any attempt to play it over the commission’s ban. The picture was scheduled to open at the Warner Theater, downtown’s finest house, in six days.
Three days after the initial ruling, the MMPC agreed to another screening of the film, this time with members of the Milwaukee Metro Crime Commission and school board in attendance, as well as representatives of the offices of mayor and district attorney. After viewing the film, the DA’s office and police department jointly declared that there would be no way for the city to legally bar the showing of the film, as it did not violate the city statute against “lewd and immoral” exhibitions. Of course, this only meant that no one could be arrested for the showing of the film. The Warner would still be risking its operating license if it were to disobey the commission.
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At this point, however, it was still unclear if the Common Council would actually be able to shutter a theater for violating an MMPC ruling. Cautious of being dragged into a lawsuit and having their methods and standards reviewed by a judge, the commission backpedaled. The day after the meeting with the DA, the commission sent a letter to the local Warner branch, now saying they would allow for the film to shown with the following alterations: 1) Delete the opening scene of Jim “groveling” drunk in the gutter and “fondling” the toy monkey. 2) Delete all scenes in which switchblades are used. 3) Delete the scene in which Jim attacks his father and goes tumbling over the chair. 4) Remove all spoken references to stolen cars. 5) Delete the scene of Plato (Sal Mineo) shooting at the other teenager and at the police.
Although the Warner Brothers legal department was confident any move on the theater would be brushed back in court, the local ownership of the house was less eager to get into a legal tussle and pulled Rebel less than 48 hours before it was set to open. The Warner scrambled to find a replacement, settling on the Aldo Ray/ Dick York World War II melodrama Three Stripes in the Sun.
The Warner Theater in 1962.
In early November, Warner Brothers’ legal department notified the MMPC that no alterations would be made to Rebel, and that the local theater operators had agreed to run an unedited print starting on November 25th, four weeks after nearly every major market in the nation had seen it. Ten days before it was set to premiere, the commission held an emergency meeting and it was decided that if the Warner did indeed exhibit an unapproved version of the picture, they would refer the matter to the licensing committee of the Common Council and push for an up or down vote on the theater’s operating license. The commission cited several (unspecified) instances of “extreme” violence by young people in the city as the reason for their hard line against the film. Rebel Without a Cause, said one commission member, “outdoes all others in violence and terror.”
The stage was thus set for a scene not unlike the “chicky race
