THE REBEL SNOW: The Early Films of Donald Sutherland
This month, people will be catching The Hunger Games: Mockingjay – Part 2, the last installment of an extended media property. Based on Suzanne Collins’ book trilogy, the story of revolt against a post-apocalyptic tyranny pits the author’s heroine and her allies against a state headed by the autocratic President Coriolanus Snow.
As played by actor Donald Sutherland, Snow is the embodiment of privilege and corrupting power, a force of evil that preserves the order imposed from the Capitol through naked repression and masterminding the sacrificial battle royales of the series title. He personifies a corrupt order that will do anything to keep any and all rebellion in check — to bend it or break it as need be.
And most of the folks going to see the end of the film series may do so without realizing the fantastic irony embodied in the casting of Sutherland as Snow. Sutherland’s main big picture role choices in the early part of his career were generally rebels, trouble-makers, and individuals taking stands against the Establishment; the Sutherland of the 1970s could easily have been alongside Jennifer Lawrence’s Katniss Everdeen as the revolution got underway.
(Note: There may be some spoilers ahead, if you’ve somehow managed not to have seen any of these older films before now…)
The Dirty Dozen (MGM, 1967)
As 1967 got its summer going, Sutherland, a Canadian who found considerable work in the UK on such television shows as The Saint and The Avengers, is introduced to a wider audience in this MGM war film. As Vernon Pinkley, Sutherland plays a mentally deficient draftee looking at 30 years’ incarceration for manslaughter until Lee Marvin’s Major Reisman chooses him for his mission to sabotage German high command on the eve of D-Day. Sutherland’s portrayal of one of the titular dozen threatens to get lost amidst the general cacophony and mayhem amidst all the stars and violence, although he does manage to make enough of an impression in the film to get more work in Hollywood as an actor able to personify the rebellious mood of the day.
M*A*S*H (20th Century Fox, 1970)
Come 1970, and Sutherland has the honor of being the first actor to portray Benjamin “Hawkeye” Pierce on screen. Much drier and more callous than the character Alan Alda would portray when the TV version gets aired two years, Sutherland makes the most of director Robert Altman’s nihilistic approach to an army medical corps at war and directing a theatrical film in general; not a single regulation or cherished institution survives Sutherland’s ad-libbing off of Ring Lardner Jr.’s screenplay.
Start the Revolution Without Me (Warner Brothers, 1970)
In this screwball comedy from Bud Yorkin (better known for the revolution he brought to TV as a producer alongside Norman Lear than for this project), Sutherland gets to play two roles: as Charles, who leads the French Revolution with his brother Claude (Gene Wilder), and as Pierre, who tries to stop it with his brother Philippe (also Wilder). Identity confusion reigns alongside tired slapstick, with both managing to overwhelm the comedy in the film the way grapeshot dominated 13 Vendemiaire.
Kelly’s Heroes (MGM, 1970)
For his third film in 1970, Sutherland returned to both MGM and World War II, this time as tank platoon commander “Oddball.” Like the first go round, this was no patriotic romp, as the army does not get a glowing portrayal here. Unlike the last time, Sutherland lives to see the end, and drives away with part of a fortune in gold.
Alex in Wonderland (MGM, 1970)
In Paul Mazursky’s follow-up to his Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice, Sutherland is supposedly a stand-in for the director (even if he does looks an awful lot like Dennis Hopper in this film) in this meditation on Hollywood in the age of easy riders and & raging bulls. While playing nice with the studio and trying to be a good father and husband, Sutherland’s imagination is allowed to run riot, including during his wild daydreams an encounter with director Federico Fellini, who in reality comes back into the story here a little later on…
Johnny Got His Gun (World Entertainment, 1971)
Sutherland’s choice of difficult characters was in many ways as much an act of rebellion as were the characters portrayed themselves; here, he played Christ in two scenes in Dalton Trumbo’s only directorial effort in mounting one of one of his screenplays. The version of Christ played in this strong anti-war film set during World War I is in the mind of Timothy Bottom’s Joe Bonham during his hallucinations, a detached figure who is helpless in the face of determined hate and cannot offer much beyond a sympathetic ear.
Klute (Warner Brothers, 1971)
Speaking of being supportive, sometimes the best you can do for the revolution is assist others as they take the point. Sutherland’s portrayal of detective John Klute serves mainly as the expected male lead for a film devoted to call girl Bree Daniels, played by Jane Fonda. The fact that Daniels was a woman involved in prostitution who was not an object of pity, played by an actress who stood up for such unpopular causes such as opposition to the Vietnam War, made what would have otherwise been a taught thriller more of an anti-establishment manifesto; the fact that Fonda won the Academy Award for Best Actress for that year shows how well the revolution was coming along.
Don’t Look Now (Paramount Pictures, 1972)
What at first glance seems to be yet another quickie horror film (which the 1970s were infested with) is instead a very visceral examination of a daughter’s grief and loss, being processed by Sutherland and Julie Christie’s characters as they go to Venice as part of their effort to begin healing. In the hands of director Nicholas Roeg based on a short story from Daphne Du Maurier, the film also shocked audiences with its controversial sex scene; to this day some claim that the intimacy portrayed on set was not simulated, although more give the sequence praise for its naked honesty.
S*P*Y*S (Twentieth Century Fox, 1974)
And sometimes, the revolution hits a speed bump — or twelve. Fox’s effort to re-team Sutherland with Elliot Gould, his co-star on M*A*S*H, in a lightweight comedy that tried to build on the cynicism inspired by Watergate about two CIA spies being sanctioned by everyone, including their handlers, after a botched operation, was a cash grab that tried to draw fans of M*A*S*H into the theaters; this, however, was not a success, and the film came and went quickly despite Fox’s best efforts.
The Day of the Locust (Paramount Pictures, 1975)
At this point, the revolution started to feed on itself. An adaptation of Nathaniel West’s indictment of Hollywood in the 1930s, Sutherland takes on the role of Homer Simpson (no, not that one) in John Schlesinger’s take on this classic novel of how the dream factory preyed on those who wanted to be part of the process.
1900 (Paramount Pictures, as distributor in the US, 1976)
Feeling the stifling of Hollywood’s impulses as the early 1970s came to an end, Sutherland took the opportunity to join the cast of Bernardo Bertolucci’s epic examination of the history of Italy in the early 20th Century. Playing the Mussolini supporter Attila Mellanchini, Sutherland embodies the excesses of those who find fascism appealing as the country loses its way. Not appreciated during its initial release (due in part to studio interference), the film in its restored version is much better appreciated in this day.
Fellini’s Casanova (Universal, as distributor in US, 1976)
Fellini’s deconstruction of Casanova, a figure the director was on record as saying he wanted to take down, originally was supposed to have Robert Redford in in the role for the director’s first film shot in English; when that didn’t come about, Sutherland got the role instead. Playing the historic bon vivant with extensive prosthesis and a brutally shaved head, Sutherland looks uncomfortable trying to fit in with the usual exorbitant insanity one sees in a Fellini film (even this late in the director’s career), though he gamely carries on.
The Eagle Has Landed (ITC, 1976)
For his third visit to World War II, Sutherland this time fought on the side of the Axis, as a member of the IRA recruited to support the unit of Fallschirmjager sent to kidnap Churchill in 1943. This adaptation of Jack Higgins’ novel finds Sutherland once again fighting amidst another all-star cast, this time displaying a trick on how to make a dog loyal to you that has been imitated way too many times by people who’ve seen the film, without the same success Sutherland’s character had. OrsoIbeentold, mind you…
The Kentucky Fired Movie (United Film Distribution, 1977)
Um… Okay, I don’t have a really good answer why Sutherland played himself as the Klutzy Waiter in the “That’s Armageddon” sketch in this comedy. Boredom? Maybe. Need for quick funds? Ah, who knows…
National Lampoon’s Animal House (Universal, 1978)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BoS3-yHoaSY
…although it would make sense that he took on that segment for the ZAZ team (one of whom would go on years later to do a very reactionary film…) to get prepped for a more vibrant role in his next film, the first comedy done by the National Lampoon and John Landis’ next project following his directing Kentucky Fried Movie. Sutherland’s role as English professor Dave Jennings, left-wing radical and introducer to students of pot and sleeping with professors, showed that he still had some revolutionary leanings as he continued to act into the end of the 1970s.
Invasion of the Body Snatchers (United Artists, 1978)
In what may be the best adaptation of the novel The Body Snatchers by Jack Finney, Sutherland is technically leading a counter-revolution, as a human who works for the San Francisco Department of Health trying to fight the alien parasites taking over the human race. The finale to this film is memorable; yes, I threatened spoilers, but no, I will not spoil this one for you, sorry…
Ordinary People (Paramount Pictures, 1980)
By 1980, the revolution was pretty well over. Sutherland’s role as Calvin Jarrett, a father and husband unable to keep his family together in Robert Redford’s directorial debut, shows a vulnerability to and deference to order that makes up much of Sutherland’s roles for the rest of his career; from here it’s a gradual path to portraying President Snow in the present.
This offers us some possible lessons for the future. If both Hans Eysenck and Pete Townsend can be trusted, it’s inevitable that this move from revolt against to repression in support of order is inevitable as one ages. That means, of course, that come 2053, there will be a media property where we admire Jennifer Lawrence’s portrayal of a ruthless totalitarian ruler, possibly drawn from the examples offered by a former co-star she shared screen time with…
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Yamilamir Dourif