America, America

Another of those movies that shows up from time to time on TCM but that I had never actually seen before was Elia Kazan's America, America. With that in mind, the last time it was on TCM, I recorded it, and recently finally got around to watching it off my DVR.

America, America was a very personal movie for Kazan, based on the life story of his uncle who emigrated from the Ottoman Empire to the United States, something that eventually gave Kazan himself the chance to succeed; as a measure of how personal it is there's opening narration by Elia Kazan. The story opens in the mid-1890s in central Anatolia, which is now in the middle of the Asian part of Turkey. The region was much more multi-ethnic then than now, with a Turkish Muslim majority and Christian minorities of Greeks and Armenians, among others. As in many other multi-ethnic societies of the era, the minorities were in a decided second-class position. Stavros, the character based on Kazan's uncle, is friends with an Armenian, Vartan, and the two also work together hauling ice down from the mountain.

But as I said, both are second class citizens, and as the movie opens the authorities in a faraway provincial capital are worried about the Armenians getting uppity and agitating for more freedoms, so the provincial authorities want their local subordinates to do something about it. This leads to a pogrom against the Armenians that leaves Vartan dead, and the rest of Stavros' large family to realize it's dangerous for him even to have an Armenian friend. I guess it's part of the point of what the majority Turks were doing to get the various minority groups pitted against one another.

Stavros has heard about America and how it's a land of opportunity, so his ultimate goal is somehow, anyhow, to make it to America and earn enough of a living that perhaps he can bring over the rest of his family. They, however, only want to get to Constantinople since that's apparently safer for Greeks than inland Anatolia and they've got a wealthy cousin Aleko there who can help them. Still, it's a huge sacrifice just to try to get Stavros there, never mind that he doesn't want to stay there once -- if -- he makes it. It's also a sacrifice for Stavros, as along the way he's fleeced out of everything by a dishonest traveling companion.

Stavros does finally make it to Constantinople only to discover that said wealthy cousin is not wealthy at all, but running a failing carpet business that barely sells any carpets. Stavros, however, in the mind of cousin Aleko, brings two assets, a penis and a pulse. Aleko knows some wealthy Greeks who have a daughter hitherto unmarriageable because of her subpar looks. Stavros would be just the right man for the job, not that he wants it. At best, he would take the dowry money and use it to get to America.

Stavros endures all sorts of horrors in his attempts to get the money to get passage, but thinks begin to look up when an Armenian couple who already emigrated to America and made it come back in order to buy an authentic carpet. The wife is trapped in a loveless marriage, so takes to Stavros, eventually showering him with enough money to book passage and wind up on the same ship as the couple. Also on the boat is a friend Stavros made in Constantinople, who got passage as part of a labor scheme where an American sponsor provides passage in exchange for a couple of years' work on the other side. Both Stavros and his friend, however, are still going to face problems getting through Ellis Island....

For me, the big problem with America, America is that it runs something close to 170 minutes. It's got a glacial pace despite the fact that seemingly a lot happens on the way from the Anatolian interior to Ellis Island. This being a personal project for Kazan, he faces the same problem that a lot of actors who turn director then directing themselves face, that of not knowing (or caring) when to tone things down or rein themselves in. Still, America, America is a worthwhile story, and maybe the sort of thing that should have been written to be paced for a TV miniseries. Not that such miniseries were being made in the early 1960s however, and not that Kazan would have deigned to work for the small screen.