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Peter O’Toole utters the infamous line above at a strategic moment in the comedy My Favorite Year (1982), which is currently streaming on FilmStruck. As part of the fabric of our pop culture, the line is familiar even to those who have not seen the film. At first glance, it might seem like a put-down of movie stars—those performers celebrated as much for their screen persona as for their acting prowess. But, there is much more to the line and the film than meets the eye . . . or, the ear.
Set in 1954 when New York was the center of the television industry, My Favorite Year stars O’Toole as flamboyant Golden Age movie star Alan Swann, who is obviously patterned after rogues like Errol Flynn and John Barrymore. The story revolves around Swann’s appearance on a television variety show, The King Kaiser Comedy Cavalcade, which echoes the type of sketch comedy programs that dominated television in the 1950s. Swann loves his liquor and women, so Kaiser and the producers give junior writer Benjy Stone (Mark Linn-Baker) the task of keeping him out of trouble. The aging but still charismatic Swann utters the line, “I’m not an actor. I’m a movie star,” when he discovers that the show is live, meaning it is broadcast as it is performed. For Swann, who is accustomed to film production in which scenes or even single lines are shot and reshot until the director is satisfied, a live show is like jumping without a parachute.
Director Richard Benjamin appreciated the difference between stars and actors, because he was an actor himself. Benjamin took classes in the highly respected theater department at Northwestern University, my alma mater. He appeared in a few bit parts in films during the 1950s, but his reputation as an actor rested on his success in the theater in such comedies as Star-Spangled Girl. Benjamin made the transition to cinema during the Film School Generation after appearing in two films based on Philip Roth novels, Goodbye Columbus (1969) and Portnoy’s Complaint (1972). Columbus and Portnoy seemed to type him as a “serious New York actor,” but Benjamin also appeared in popular genre films, including The Sunshine Boys (1975) opposite George Burns and Walter Matthau and The Last of Sheila (1978) with an ensemble of familiar Hollywood players.
Benjamin became a film actor in an era when stars from the Golden Age were still working in movies and television. Old-school movie stars took a different approach to acting compared to those of Benjamin’s generation. A movie star’s performance was built around his or her image. Stars played into their image to please the fans; or, they played against it to surprise the fans. Back in the day, the studios nurtured the images of their stars and cultivated their charisma because these images—Bogart’s reluctant heroism, Monroe’s innocent sexuality, Stanwyck’s independent dame, Wayne’s rugged individualism—meant something to moviegoers. In the 1950s, when Method actors from New York introduced a more cerebral approach to acting, it was hailed as more “realistic.” The personality acting of the Golden Age seemed contrived and old-fashioned in comparison. Movie stars’ function as the embodiment of ideas and values was lost on those too eager to embrace the new realism in acting.
I don’t think Richard Benjamin felt that way about Golden Age stars, despite his association with modern acting. Perhaps the reason he exhibited such empathy for Alan Swann in My Favorite Year was his own experiences as an actor in which he had costarred with movie stars of all ages. At the heart of the narrative of My Favorite Year is an understanding of what Golden Age stars meant to movie fans. It was truly a cultural phenomenon that young audiences don’t quite grasp.
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The film is often discussed as an exercise in nostalgia, but it is more complex than a simple longing for another place and another time. The depiction of live television behind the scenes of The King Kaiser Comedy Cavalcade serves as an homage to Sid Caesar, Milton Berle and other comedians who hosted sketch comedy shows in the 1950s. But, live television is presented as a new, exciting age of entertainment, while Alan Swann represents Old Hollywood, which was rapidly passing in 1954. Aside from Benjy and the women who work at the studio, King Kaiser’s staff view him as a has-been. Swann is a mythic icon of the silver screen, but he is out of place on the small screen parodying his own legend with shtick—that is, until he seizes the moment in the final scene. As the scene plays out, we realize that Swann’s era is fading, but we will miss what he and other stars represented, especially in comparison to modern entertainment.
My Favorite Year takes place in the early 1950s, which was a period of transition and upheaval for the Hollywood industry. The studios let go of their tight hold over movie stars; producers and directors formed their own production companies; and censorship relaxed slightly, allowing for more serious content. Hollywood would never be the same. My Favorite Year was released in the early 1980s—also an era of transition for the industry. In film history texts, the 1980s are described as a return to entertainment after the serious exploration of film as an art form by the Film School Generation. New industry practices, such as the adoption of the blockbuster model and its uber-marketing campaigns, changed the nature of the typical Hollywood film. Also, the home-viewing industry began in the 1980s, which changed audiences and their viewing habits. Hollywood would never be the same. Interesting that My Favorite Year, produced during a period of transition, looked back at another era of great change.
As delivered by O’Toole, Swann’s famous line is a funny swipe at movie stars in all their superficial glamour and contrived personas: “I’m not an actor. I’m a movie star.” But, the line should not be interpreted out of context. Benjy delivers a speech after Swann’s line that counters the movie star’s self-deprecation: “Whoever you were in those movies, those silly goddamn heroes meant a lot to me! What does it matter if it was an illusion? It worked! So don’t tell me this is you life-size. I can’t use you life-size. I need Alan Swanns as big as I can get them!” After the Golden Age, fans would never be so devoted.
Susan Doll
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