


There are plenty of steamy tales in this revealing and detailed book about the making of "Rebel Without a Cause."
Nicholas Ray had it tough. To make his film "Johnny Guitar," a movie he called "an appalling experience," he had to survive Joan Crawford, whom he called "one of the worst human beings (he had) ever encountered." He probably counted his wife, Gloria Grahame, in that dismal camp; she bedded his 13-year-old son when the lad came to visit and found that pop was not at home. Never again would he look at his son without suspicion, though Ray would himself soon initiate an affair with the underage Natalie Wood.
Fifty years ago, Nicholas Ray's ''Rebel Without a Cause" changed American culture. But did it call for rebellion, conformity, or both?
''Rebel"'s impact was so strong that it actually changed the society its protagonists found so dissatisfying. In their compulsively readable, just-published ''Live Fast, Die Young: The Wild Ride of Making 'Rebel Without a Cause"' (Touchstone), authors Lawrence Frascella and Al Weisel make the bold assertion that the film ''invented the teenager." '''Rebel' is the first film that presented teenage culture through their eyes rather than through the eyes of adults," Weisel elaborated by phone from New York. ''That teenagers had their own ideals, their own way of life, their own way of thinking and feeling—these things were in the society. But 'Rebel' was the first film to define them and to define things that were bubbling under the surface."

Just like the charmingly subversive Ray, who intensely researched juvenile delinquents prior to making the film, Live Fast, Die Young's authors have feverishly documented every possible facet of Rebel, be it profound or provocative—or both. As a result of their meticulous preparation, in which they cultivated firsthand interviews, library sources and the Warner Brothers archives, they have produced an extraordinary account not only of the movie but also the enticing lore of the old Hollywood star machine. They also achieve a delicate yet controlled balance between Rebel's volatile realization and the dubious exploits that occurred offscreen. The reader therefore learns that Ray and Dean improvised the post-"chickie run" remorse scene at Ray's bungalow at the Chateau Marmont, and that Ray bought Cuprex at the drugstore to combat Dean's first case of crabs.
For hardcore Rebel fans, this book is obviously a must—as it is for anyone interested in the controversial underbelly of mid-20th century show business. Live Fast, Die Young is an E! True Hollywood Story and Hollywood Babylon wrapped up in one striking package.


"At 50, 'Rebel' still a classic without a rival" By Scott Von Doviak
When director Nicholas Ray (In a Lonely Place, They Live by Night) set out to make a small, personal film inspired by the wave of teen rebellion in the early 1950s, there was little reason to think the result would be remembered five decades later. The movie was Rebel Without a Cause, and its status as an enduring classic owes much to circumstances outside of Ray's control. Fifty years ago today, the film's 24-year-old star, James Dean, was killed in a car accident, sealing his fate as an eternal cult figure and a Hollywood legend.
With Live Fast, Die Young, an exhaustive account of Rebel's production and its aftermath, film critic Lawrence Frascella and entertainment reporter Al Weisel have done their part to keep the legend alive. (Not that the movie needed their help; it makes regular appearances in repertory houses and on critics' all-time-best lists, and was named to the National Film Registry by the Library of Congress in 1990.)
The story begins with a shock, as Ray discovers his teen-age son in bed with his wife, the boy's stepmother. According to Frascella and Weisel, this incident was the spark that ignited the director's interest in "the teen problem," as the tabloids of the day called it. His timing was right on the money, as the studios were eager to claim a share of the burgeoning youth market.
Originally envisioned as a down-and-dirty, black-and-white B-movie, Rebel—which, like Dean's death, is marking its 50th anniversary this year—grew in stature as it attracted top talent. Dean's popularity was about to explode with the release of East of Eden, and it took a volatile mix of salesmanship and seduction on Ray's part to lure the star into the project.
With Dean aboard, along with Natalie Wood and Sal Mineo, the picture became a full-color Cinemascope extravaganza. As you would expect, the authors present detailed technical descriptions of the movie's most famous set pieces, including the "chickie run" between two hot rods that ends in a fiery crash, eerily presaging Dean's demise. There is also no shortage of gossipy revelations regarding the tangled relationships—many of them sexual—between the film's principals, although the book's tone never lapses into lurid sensationalism.
Less expected are the evocative glimpses of Rebel's more haunting moments, such as the phantom house sequences filmed in the same mansion used in Sunset Boulevard, with its "air of dreamy dilapidation." In these passages, the authors' movie love seeps through the prose, transcending the usual nuts-and-bolts approach.
If there's one aspect of the Rebel story that Frascella and Weisel can't quite get a handle on, it is Dean himself. That is perhaps to be expected, as the authors are forced to juggle many contradictory impressions of a young man who cultivated an enigmatic persona -- one he probably didn't live long enough to resolve in his own mind.
Though they pay lip service to the notion of a Rebel curse—in addition to Dean, Wood and Mineo also died young under mysterious circumstances—Frascella and Weisel are more concerned with the movie's legacy. They make a strong case that Rebel is more than just the residue of a star that burned too bright.

The story of how Rebel Without a Cause became a film is at times almost more interesting than the movie itself, though first-time authors Frascella and Weisel pay determined homage to that cinematic touchstone throughout their engaging and learned book. In 1954, director Nicholas Ray told mogul of moguls Lew Wasserman that he wanted to do a movie "about the young people next door," a dramatic departure from the usual approach of depicting all troubled teens as coming from disadvantaged backgrounds. Ray was attached by Warner Bros. to the long-gestating Rebel, a psychiatric study of a young psychopath. Script after script followed, with everyone from Leon Uris to Irving Shulman banging out treatments (playwright Clifford Odets even provided a few ideas). As Ray's vision stuttered forward—he knew what he wanted, but couldn't articulate it—the troubled and brilliant cast started to cohere. Natalie Wood was a precocious 17, cruelly abused by her stage mother and looking for sexual validation from everyone from Ray to her costar, a young Dennis Hopper. Sal Mineo, a strangely handsome boy from the Bronx, gave a homoerotically charged performance that immortalized him as the first (fairly) obviously gay teenager on film. Meanwhile, Ray tried to seduce Brando wannabe James Dean into his picture, though in this account it's hard to tell exactly who was playing whom. The actual shoot was no easier than the preproduction. Nosy studio heads were nervous about Ray's bold ideas; a thick web of jealousy and sexual intrigue entangled all the principals; and Ray's use of actual teen gang members in the cast caused problems. The denouement is fittingly sad: Dean died just before the film's release, and Ray's career quickly sputtered out, to be revitalized briefly decades later.


Fights! Scandal! Sex! An unforgettable set visit to 1955’s Rebel Without a CauseIt is James Dean's most memorable movie, a film that's become even more mythic because of the tragic ends met by its three leads. Live Fast, Die Young: The Wild Ride of Making Rebel Without a Cause (Touchstone, $24.95), by film and theater critic Lawrence Frascella and PREMIERE Contributor Al Weisel, revisits Rebel's production, serving up the lurid on-set tales: Dean's pot-smoking and casual cruelty toward his costars; 16-year-old Natalie Wood's affairs both with her 43year-old director, Nicholas Ray, and 18-year-old costar, Dennis Hopper; and the is-he-in-the-closet-ornot status of Sal Mineo; who was in love with Dean. Ample airtime is given to the movie's iconic actors, but Live Fast, Die Young's real revelation is Ray, who emerges as the book's most compelling, tortured, and, arguably, talented figure.

Easily the best book on REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE written to date, LIVE FAST DIE YOUNG is superbly researched, richly detailed, and carefully written, giving the reader the most comprehensible possible overview of this American classic. The authors have amassed a remarkable trove of research material, including numerous interviews with surviving crew and cast members, in addition to studio memos, copies of the various drafts of the script, and photographs to create the most rigorous and yet accessible text on REBEL, without sensationalizing the material. Indeed, one of the highlights of the text is the manner in which the authors treat the material with respect and rigorous care. While dealing frankly with director Nicholas Ray's bisexuality, Sal Mineo's tragic career, or James Dean's unorthodox creative process as an actor, they refuse to cheapen either the film, or the hold it retains on our collective memory. LIVE FAST DIE YOUNG is written with an emotional connection to the material which makes it come alive for the reader, and secures for this film a place in the pantheon of the essential works of the art of cinema. Essential reading.

Rebel without a Cause (1955), a sympathetic view of those of its era’s teenagers demonized as juvenile delinquents, is one of the rare movies that had a massive cultural impact and was of significant artistic merit. Its immediate renown came because of star James Dean’s car-crash death just before its release, which sparked his myth and the film’s big box office. Frascella and Weisel credit director Nicholas Ray for Rebel’s artistic excellence, noting that his insistence on getting his vision to the screen was fueled by estrangement from his teenaged son and anguish over his failings as a father. They construct Rebel’s production history from archival research and interviews with surviving cast and crew members (costars Natalie Wood and Sal Mineo met violent ends, too, and Ray spent most of his last 20 years in exile from Hollywood) and satisfyingly balance scholarship—in, for example, detailed accounts of such key scenes as the knife fight at the planetarium and the chickie run—and gossip, such as dish on Ray’s affair with then-16-year-old Wood.


This book joins Wes D. Gehring's James Dean: Rebel with a Cause and George Perry's James Dean to mark the 50th anniversary of Dean's death; it also coincides with the release 50 years ago of Rebel Without a Cause , the iconic film that the authors contend had a revolutionary impact on filmmaking and the emerging youth culture, as well as made Dean a Hollywood legend. Movie and theater critic Frascella and journalist Weisel interviewed the surviving cast and crew and were granted access to personal and studio archives. The result is a riveting insider's account of the making of a film that was as dramatic and provocative as the film itself. Readers will be treated to little-known facts, e.g., how the famous "red jacket" came to be and why no rock music was used in the score. This well-researched study of a groundbreaking film will appeal to celebrity biography readers as well as serious film students. Highly recommended for public and academic libraries.—Rosellen Brewer, Sno-Isle Libs., Marysville, WA










