Christopher Plummer on Franchot Tone

Franchot & Christopher in the Alcoa production of Even the Weariest River, 1956.
Source: www.fantasfilm.org

Not too many years ago, Christopher Plummer published his autobiography, In Spite of Myself. I greatly admire Mr. Plummer, so much so that I wrote him a letter gushing to him just how much I loved him several years ago. In Spite of Myself is one of the most intelligent, entertaining, and encompassing autobiographies I've ever read. I've always considered Christopher and Franchot to be similar in their approach to their work, sensitivity, and intelligence. In fact, I keep my autographed photos of the two proudly displayed together.

For me, it's only fitting that the older and ailing Franchot's final scene in a film is with the young Christopher Plummer in the 1968 film Nobody Runs Forever. It's over in a heartbeat, but to see these two actors I admire share a bit of brief dialogue and knowing looks with one another is a cherished film moment for me.

Many years before Nobody Runs Forever, Plummer and Tone worked together in the Bermuda Repertory Theatre (I believe this was in/around 1952). Plummer dedicated several pages of his book to his experience with and analysis of Tone. I think his words on Franchot as an actor and as a man are the most insightful I've ever read. I was pleased that Christopher was able to see the similarities that I've noticed in Franchot and himself, and I was vastly moved by his eloquent summary of my favorite actor of all time.


On Franchot's early theater days:

At one time, not too far into the recent past, he was considered by critics, pundits and public alike 'the bright white hope of the American theatre.'...he had shown staggering potential in the famed Group Theatre days...Franchot, with his and his family's money had largely financed the Group Theatre from its inception. So it would not be an exaggeration to surmise that almost single-handedly he had oiled the machinery for the great New Wave movement...

On Franchot's vulnerability and pain:

But Franchot had a weakness for the movies and a penchant for domineering, glamorous women...He seemed to search for this kind of self-destructive alliance, and alliance that could not but help inflict certain pain. Indeed, Franchot Tone was a handsome, sensitive, highly educated and tremendously talented gentleman who was, nevertheless, motivated and driven by pain. His hard living had somewhat diminished his former brilliance, but every so often his work showed strong evidence of great depth and nobility of spirit...His sense of humor, as one might guess, was seeringly self-deprecating, drawn as always from this inexplicable inner torment. These vulnerable qualities were to make his Chekovian performances (Uncle Vanya and A Moon for the Misbegotten), both of which I later saw, so memorable—a rare combination of lightness and poignancy.

On working with Franchot in "The Petrified Forest":

He brought a substance to the play it didn't quite deserve...he managed at times to lift the piece far above its ken into the loftier spheres of O'Neill.

On their similarities:

...we shared an unspoken bond. We were both romantics—incurable to the last—and our separate upbringings shared the same confusion of identity. He may have seen in me, occasionally, his younger self. I'm not sure and I wouldn't wish it on him; but I saw in him someone I could perhaps aspire to; not the hidden sad, pained man that was part of Franchot but the part he couldn't conceal, no matter how hard he tried, the part that was refined, noble and infinitely kind—the man of golden promise.

Nobody Runs Forever, 1968

Source: Plummer, Christopher. In Spite of Myself: A Memoir. New York: Afred A. Knopf, 2008. Print. 104-107.

Nobody Runs Forever (1968)

In honor of the anniversary of Franchot's birth on February 27th, I'm posting daily this week instead of my usual twice-a-week posts. Today, I want to highlight Franchot's final film, Nobody Runs Forever.

Nobody Runs Forever (also known as The High Commissioner) is a late Sixties political thriller starring Christopher Plummer and Rod Taylor (an example of perfect casting, in my opinion).  Rod Taylor is Scobie Malone, a police sergeant asked to take into custody the High Commissioner of Australia, James Quentin (Christopher Plummer), who is being investigated for the murder of his first wife. Quentin requests that Malone keep the matter private and give him until after an important peace summit. Malone agrees to give the commissioner a few days, but keeps a close eye on him. During that time, Malone grows close to Quentin as he protects him against multiple assassination attempts, uncovers secrets from Quentin's current wife, and identifies a threatening spy ring. Franchot is American Ambassador Townsend, an ailing political mentor of Quentin's.

Franchot's role is very brief (under a minute). For that reason, I chose to share his actual scene instead of my usual screen caps. Knowing it is his last scene in a major motion picture and that Franchot himself was battling lung cancer as he played this gravely ill character in a hospital makes this clip bittersweet for me. (If the embedded clip doesn't play here, use the direct Youtube link.)




Although he plays this scene from a hospital bed, Franchot performs with the fortitude that I so enjoy in the charactors of his final decade. He's no feeble old man in that room. He's alive and biting and wise and in control.

Nobody Runs Forever is a stylish spy film, full of political intrigue, great dialogue, and gorgeous mod fashion on both the men and the women. Christopher Plummer and Rod Taylor, two of my favorite actors of that decade, are both fantastic in their roles and Franchot ends his career on a high note in a sophisticated tale of espionage.

Under the title The High Commissioner, this film is available on DVD.