James Dean is the quintessential icon, an enduring figure whose popularity continues to grow.  February 8, 2001, would have been James Dean’s 70th birthday.  Yet, it seems he never goes away — it is remarkable how his image has lasted.  Since his death in 1955 at the wheel of his Porsche Spyder, his image has become larger than life.  Teenagers wanted to emulate him, women wanted to mother him, fathers detested him — and overall, he left an indelible mark on cinematic film and pop culture.  Why is Dean still popular after all these years?  Well, for one thing, his mixed, anguished emotions captivated the minds of American youth, in the three intensive roles he portrayed in East of Eden, Rebel Without a Cause, and Giant.  Teenagers for the first time found a figure they could identify with.  Dean expressed the pain of growing up better than anyone before or since.
        Another key element of Dean’s popularity and the one that has ensured his legend to this day, was his breaking away from conformity.  Dean resented authority, he did whatever he pleased, when and anytime he wished.  And for a young person seeing that, it was revolutionary.  But there was something about the way Dean carried himself that made him unique.  Dean had that coolness, which made him stand out from everyone else.  He was a photographer’s dream, as he knew how to strike the perfect pose.  Dean had good hair, chiselled features, deep-set blue eyes, with a face that was so photogenic — the camera loved him.
His films have somewhat aged over the years, but his performances remain powerful.  The way he glares at Raymond Massey, in East of Eden, with scornful resentment as he tries to suggest an idea to plant beans instead of lettuce — only to have it rejected.  The look of confusion and torment on his face when he yells out, “You’re tearing me apart!” in Rebel Without a Cause.  And the look of arrogance and defiance, in Giant, as he taunts Rock Hudson after striking oil, while covered in it.  These three roles were the ingredients of the Dean legend.
        With DVD taking over people’s escapist activities, two of Dean’s films have been released on DVD. Rebel Without a Cause was released on September 21, 1999, and Giant on November 14, 2000.  The audio and video transfer onto DVD format is outstanding, far superior to videotape.  The picture quality is crystal-clear, Dean’s handsome face has never looked better.  After viewing Rebel Without a Cause on DVD, you could not tell that it was filmed in the 1950s (although the clothes, hairstyles, cars and slang of that era date the movie).  It looked like it could have been filmed recently.  The Giant DVD is well worth the purchase.  It too looks superb.  It contains a behind the scenes documentary with new interviews with cast members, four movie trailers, an introduction by George Stevens Jr., a documentary television segment featuring the premiere of Giant in New York, and much more.  There is no word yet if East of Eden will be released.
        Ron Martinetti, author of the book The James Dean Story identified with Dean’s image from the very beginning.  “I have been a Dean fan,” Martinetti said, “since I was eleven years old.  I used to go to Times Square when I was a kid to buy Dean movie stills.  I identified with Dean, especially in Rebel Without a Cause since he felt isolated.”  What is Martinetti’s favourite film?  “Rebel Without a Cause is my favourite Dean movie.  However, Giant is a close second. Rebel is important because of its total originality — the film dealt with the anguish and resentment of a group no one cared about or paid any attention to: middle class youths.  Dean and Nick Ray gave them a voice and raised their protests to the level of art.”
        In the book, The James Dean Story, Martinetti had the good fortune of interviewing Rogers Brackett, the well-known Hollywood producer who lived briefly with Dean — and who got him several bit parts in a few Hollywood films.  Brackett refused to do any interviews after Dean’s death and Martinetti explains how he managed to get him to consent.  “I think I found Alec Wilder,” Martinetti continues, “in the phone book.  I am not sure, the world was a more innocent place in those days.  I just called him probably.  I think he did not want to talk.  He did not like Dean and harboured much resentment.  But he talked to me anyway and put me in touch with Rogers.  He said Rogers would never give an interview.  But as lady fortune would have it, Rogers had read an article I had written on William Buckley (for a Columbia University magazine) and liked it. Buckley’s droll, fey sense of humour would have appealed to Rogers.  So Rogers said, ‘Well if you really want to talk to me, you can come to Catalina (where he was then living in a beach bungalow).’
        “So I went to Santa Catalina by seaplane and the rest is history, or semi-history.  Rogers and I stayed in touch, but when I entered law school in 1979, I lost track of him.  He died in 1980, I believe. He was a generous and selfless person. Those who knew him when he was young said he was a great stage director and his work in the early days of radio is legendary.  That the hacks of Hollywood never recognized his talent and potential is not surprising.  What more can I say?”
        When Martinetti began writing the book, he had no preconceived notions of Dean’s rumoured bisexuality.  “When I began the book,” Martinetti explains, “I had no idea of Dean’s sexuality. But after I began my research, I heard about Rogers from Wilder and I think others. There was this undercurrent of rumours.  After Rogers agreed to talk, I realized I had a responsibility to tell the truth but to do so in good taste. After the book came out, Rogers and Alec Wilder were very complimentary.  Dizzy Sheridan had mixed feelings. I think she would have preferred me to leave out the Brackett relationship.  Incidentally, Rogers, Dennis Stock, and Dizzy all promised me exclusive interviews, and only Rogers kept his word.”  In the book, The James Dean Story, Brackett told Martinetti, “My primary interest in Jimmy was as an actor ? his talent was so obvious.  Secondarily, I loved him, and Jimmy loved me.  If it was a father-son relationship, it was also somewhat incestuous.”
        Martinetti feels that Dean would have fallen victim to Hollywood, had he lived.  “I think Hollywood would have eaten him alive,” Martinetti said, “and turned him into a highly touted establishment hack…Or, he would have been buried by the studio heads — if he did not finally get into line and fall into category one.  They were a nasty bunch of atavistic capitalist monopolists, and Jimmy was after all, an Indiana farm boy — and no match for Jack Warner, Harry Cohn, and that crowd.”  Martinetti concludes, “As long as there are young people, as long as there are boundaries, there will be a James Dean.  Also, Jimmy lives because he had the ironic luck to die young; he and Jim Morrison are two heroes who never sold out; they never had a chance to.”

        Val Holley, author of James Dean: The Biography, says Dean is definitely an influential figure.  “I’m a Dean fan,” Holley said, “but I am more a fan of his life as a whole than of his movie career.  Dean is eternally mysterious and I have always sought to solve the mystery, although that may not be possible.  I am especially interested in how he related to his times, i.e., the enormous post-war energy in the arts that were concentrated in New York, including theatre and live television.”  Holley says his favourite Dean film is, “East of Eden, not really because of Dean but because of [director Elia] Kazan’s vision of the edgy, disturbing story he wanted to tell.  Kazan was clever enough to let Dean be Dean, though.”
        Holley feels Dean is fair game, when it comes to debating his sexuality.  “Why shouldn’t they speculate?” Holly declares.  “The wish to know Dean’s sexuality is a legitimate human impulse, but because his sexuality was so ambiguous, no one can know for sure what he was.  It’s unlikely that he knew what he was; he admitted in a letter to Barbara Glenn (former girlfriend) that he didn’t know who he was.  He had sex with many different men and he had sex with many different women.  He died too young to have decided whether or not to swing either way.  And of course, had he lived, he would have been free not to decide, as well.  He keeps us guessing, which is a significant factor in his continuing appeal.”
        Holley gives his thoughts on what Dean would be doing today, if he were alive.   “Dean was rarely able,” Holley continues, “to comprehend the greater good of working together with fellow cast members, directors, etc., for the overall benefit of the project, whether in television or film.  Movie studio protocol seemed cripplingly annoying to him.  This probably would have driven him into independent film production — assuming he had the sophistication in business necessary to make independent films.  Since he smoked and drank to excess, it is not clear how long his looks would have lasted; thus his years as a movie idol may have been scant.”
        Holley states his reasons why Dean remains popular.  “I think Dean remains popular,” Holley said, “because he asks a lot of his audiences.  His screen portrayals, which are how most people know him, are of complicated human beings.  Dean himself was complicated and not easy to figure out.  Somehow, every new generation seems to discover James Dean.  They seem to identify with the challenges he faces in his movie portrayals.”

        Warren Beath, author of The Death of James Dean, is another fan.  “I thought he was,” Beath said, “very unusual and mysterious, and I was interested in how he had become who he was, and why he died so young.”  What gave the idea for Beath to write the book?  “I was just interested,” Beath explains, “in the story of his accident, and found it dramatic and interesting.  It happened near where I lived, and I thought it was a pretty important event, with social and cultural impact we are still feeling to this day.  My proximity to the death site made me feel I had a connection, I guess.”  Beath thinks Dean is still popular because, “he did what he did better than anyone before, or after.  He died young and so his image is still luminous — and mysterious.”  What is Beath’s favourite Dean film?  “I like the first 45 minutes of Rebel and Eden, but especially Rebel.  The music is enchanting, the colors are vivid, and it depicts a world I want to enter.  He creates a marvelous character in Jim Stark, who is really not very interesting as scripted.  But he transfuses him with intensity and quirkiness, which makes him an actual person in a film full of ‘characters.’  It always leaves me feeling I have seen James Dean the person, whereas I’ve only seen performances by the other players.”
        Beath gives his thoughts on the speculation with Dean’s personal life.  “He was apparently homosexual, but I was never very interested in his sexuality.  It’s the most frequently asked question, though.  It’s only interesting to me as regards [to] him evading the draft, and with the way it queered him with his hometown, even after he was dead. And the homosexual following…it seems significant.  He is a sort of androgynous alternative to all sorts of sexual confusion.  Not that homosexuality is a sexual confusion.  Though I think it seems that way to heterosexuals.  Dean sort of bridges the gap between a man and his feminine side.”
Donald Turnupseed, the man whose name became eminent in one of the most famous car crashes in the 20th century, died of cancer in 1995.  Turnupseed was a 23 year-old college student driving a 1950 Ford Tudor, when he collided with Dean’s Porsche Spyder near Cholame, California.  Dean, who was on his way to a car race in Salinas, California, was travelling on Route 466 when Turnupseed (coming the opposite direction) made a left-hand turn onto Route 41, right in front of Dean’s car.  Upon impact, Dean’s mechanic Rolf Weutherich, who was a passenger with Dean, was thrown from the Spyder.  Weutherich received various fractures, including a broken leg, but he did survive.  Turnupseed received only minor injuries and maintained his story that he never saw Dean.  That is contrary to the evidence of the photos, which show heavy skid marks made by Turnupseed’s Ford at the point of impact.  Turnupseed must have seen something, which prevented him from making his left-hand turn, and almost immediately putting his foot on the brake.  Dean, took the worst of the collision, he was trapped in the Spyder, suffered multiple fractures and a broken neck — he died instantly.
        With regards to whose fault it was, Beath says, “Ultimately, God must take responsibility for everything.  He is either all-powerful, or not.  Turnupseed and Dean were both responsible for the accident, and also responsible for all the accidents they did not have that day.”  Beath had the opportunity to meet Turnupseed and recalls, “Everything about him was guarded and wary, he even seemed to move in slow motion, as if he was walking in a minefield.  He had a sort of condescending sense of humour, and preferred conservative cars and dark colours.”  Beath has visited the crash site and says, “[It is] eerie and peaceful.  Like when you’re in church alone.  Haunted.  Tranquil.  Timeless.  Like the silence after a big crash.  It’s empty and full at the same time.  There’s like, voices you can’t quite hear what they’re saying, on the wind.”
        Sadly, Beath feels that Dean’s image has been tarnished over the years.  He attributes a lot of the blame towards CMG Worldwide (the Indianapolis-based company which licenses products bearing Dean’s name and likeness).  “God bless him,” Beath explains, “he was very contradictory and complex.  It’s so sad the way Curtis Management [Group] has castrated his image and put him on neckties and cookie jars.  They’re accomplishing what Dean’s death could not accomplish — obliterating his self-crafted image, and making him ridiculous.  He gets less interesting to me each time CMG markets some piece of crap with his name or face on it.  Screen savers, coffee mugs — some rebel, huh?  His family has made him into a Pokémon.”
        Beath is just getting started as he continues his diatribe of Dean’s family and of CMG Worldwide.  “Dean’s Indiana family,” Beath concludes, “has been befuddled by the significance of James Dean since his death. Bewildered and inarticulate, how ironic they have become the guardians of his ‘image.’  The years since they have gotten involved in ‘marketing’ have seen the [most] goddamn proliferation of kitsch and crap bearing Dean’s likeness and name.  There is no geegaw, gimcrack, or piece of junk so stupid or ugly or tasteless that they will not put his name on it to make a buck. They cut off Jimmy’s head, and every day piss down his neck.  They’ve turned him into a corporate whore, a promiscuous joke who appears on neckties, colognes, cookie jars, screen savers, and wristwatches.  Dean, today, inhabits a cultural Hee Haw, more Buck Owens than Brando.  Shame on his family, and shame on those lawyers.”

        David Loehr, the world’s greatest collector of Dean memorabilia, mentions how he first became a Dean fan.  “In 1974, a friend,” Loehr explains, “gave me The Mutant King [written by David Dalton] for Christmas.  I didn’t know anything about Dean at the time.  I read it during a cross-country bus trip from Massachusetts to Los Angeles.  In Los Angeles, I saw East of Eden for the first time at a film festival.  I was knocked out.  It was on a big screen.  When it ended I just sat there crying.  Later that same year I saw East of Eden, Rebel Without a Cause, Giant, and The James Dean Story at another film festival at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art.  I picked up a poster, another book, a button, and that was it.  I started collecting everything on Dean that I could find.”
        Loehr believes Dean’s legend is still popular because, “he had three good roles with three good directors that still hold up today as strong films.  I think a lot of his popularity stems simply from the way he looked and moved.  He had charisma.”  With regards to a favourite film, Loehr says, “Usually my favourite is whichever one I am watching at the time, but if I had to pick one it would be East of Eden.”
        Loehr has met members of Dean’s family, including Jimmy’s aunt and uncle, Ortense and Marcus Winslow Sr.  When Dean was nine years old, his mother died of cancer.  After her death, Dean’s father sent him to live with his aunt and uncle.  This abandonment on Jimmy would affect him greatly and he would never again be close to his father.  “I was fortunate to meet Ortense,” said Loehr, “on several occasions.  She was a very sweet and soft-spoken woman.  Marcus Sr. was already gone when I first visited Fairmount in 1979.  I met Jimmy’s dad, Winton a few times, and he walked through the James Dean Gallery once.  Looking at Winton you could see Jimmy.  He would slouch up against a doorway, and his smile and laugh was just like Jimmy’s.  I remain friends with Marcus Winslow Jr. (Dean’s cousin), and his wife Marylou and their two sons, Coy and Chuck.”
        In Fairmount, Indiana, where Loehr runs the James Dean Gallery, he has seen many types of fans.  “Running the James Dean Memorial Gallery,” Loehr says, “I see all types of people who are Dean fans.  All ages, colors and nationalities.  There are lawyers, bikers, punk rock kids, jocks, college kids, you name it.  You can’t pinpoint a Dean fan by looks.  We get a surprising amount of elementary school kids doing school reports on him too, so his popularity keeps on going with each new generation.”  Loehr sums up Dean this way, “[He was] multi-faceted, multi-talented, determined, dedicated, complicated and unique.”

        Robert Rees, an acknowledged video archivist-collector, who has worked on a couple of James Dean documentaries, called Forever James Dean and James Dean: A Portrait, gives his thoughts about Dean’s everlasting popularity.  “His impact is more private now,” Rees states, “but we are still moved by his image.  At one time or another we’ve all been young and lost, and in search of our identities.  At the time of his death, Dean was doing what he said made him feel most alive.  He said racing was the only time he felt whole and, like Icarus, the tragic Greek hero, he flew too high and left us too soon.  By doing so, James Dean, a doomed artist, remains for us forever youthful.”

        Veteran disc jockey Red Robinson was responsible for engineering Vancouver’s rock ‘n’ roll scene in the 1950s, including emceeing Elvis Presley’s only Vancouver appearance at Empire Stadium on August 31, 1957.  Robinson retired on November 8, 2000, after 46 years on the air, and says James Dean had a profound impact on his youth.  “Well, I’ll tell you,” Robinson said, “when I first went in to see the movie East of Eden, before Rebel Without a Cause [was released], I came out of there and said I’d never seen a movie where somebody was acting like I felt as a teenager — all the angst, and all of that.  He represented my generation, totally, and the fact that he was rebellious also goes with being youthful.  But it was more than that, it was me — it was my buddies all on the screen with this one guy, he was amazing.  I was on the air playing records in those days too and I thought, now this guy, he is the youth of the ’50s.  And there he was, you know, he wasn’t Marlon Brando, none of us related to Marlon Brando.  People look back and say, ‘Oh, you must’ve.  You know The Wild One and everything.’  No, no, Brando was a great actor.  But he didn’t talk to our generation, James Dean talked to our generation.
        “And I guess I went to that movie and came away thinking, ‘Man, that’s wild.’  Then one morning I got a bulletin, I’m on the air in the afternoon, but it came in the morning — that he had died in Salinas, California.  Oddly enough I was in the U.S. Army near Salinas at Fort Ord for years and near the Laguna Seca Racetrack and saw where he died.  And I couldn’t believe it, and they hadn’t released — well they had released Rebel Without a Cause, but not Giant.  But I thought to myself, ‘My God,’ you know, and this guy was like a shooting star.  He’s so bright and then gone and I guess not since [Rudolph] Valentino was there ever an outpouring of grief, like there was for James Dean.”

        Dean’s legacy will live on, as long as teenagers continue rebelling against their parents, putting on a T-shirt and jeans, smoking a cigarette, and walking with a strut.  It is the cool, brooding defiance that Dean brought so well to the forefront.  People might not be watching Dean on a daily basis, but somewhere out there, on some cardboard cutout, a picture on a restaurant wall, or a poster in a poster shop — he’ll be watching.
 

-Special thanks to Warren Beath, Val Holley, David Loehr, Ron Martinetti, Robert Rees, Red Robinson, and Kevan Wong.
© 2001 by Brandon Yip.
 

(CMG Photo)             (Kobal Collection)
 

(Sanford Roth photo)  (Warner Brothers photo)
 

(Sylvia Bongiovanni collection)
 

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