Nicholas Ray bio charts erratic career of Hollywood rebel without a cause
Director Nicholas Ray’s movies were noted for their darkly roiling emotional undercurrents, their compassion for wounded loners and outcasts and their gritty commitment to realism.
In works such as “They Live By Night,” his auspicious 1948 debut, to his 1955 masterwork “Rebel Without a Cause” and notable films such as “In a Lonely Place,” “Johnny Guitar” and “Bigger Than Life,” Ray cemented his reputation as a passionate champion of social misfits and as a consummate Hollywood outsider himself.
If the stories he told onscreen were rigorously troubling and haunting, Ray’s life off screen was even more so. The drama he lived outside his work is related in gripping, sometimes sordid, detail in “Nicholas Ray: The Glorious Failure of an American Director” (Harper Collins/It Books, $29.99), by veteran Hollywood biographer Patrick McGilligan.
Long on carefully researched incident, anecdote and detail, if a bit short on critical analysis, McGilligan’s 560-page examination of Ray’s raucous life sets the stage with the colorful adventures of the man’s rambling youth.
As a restless young bohemian, Ray flirted with the worlds of protest music (he recorded and caroused with Woody Guthrie and Lead Belly), New York theater (he worked with Thornton Wilder and Elia Kazan), architecture (he befriended Frank Lloyd Wright) and leftist politics (he flirted with Communism and became entangled with the House Committee on Un-American Activities).
By the time he came to Hollywood in his thirties as a protégé of producer John Houseman, Ray was carrying along some hefty psychological baggage. And in typical show-biz fashion, his self-destructive urges were exacerbated by drink, drugs and women.
Over the years, Ray romanced a bevy of starlets, including Marilyn Monroe, Shelley Winters, Joan Crawford and a teenaged Natalie Wood. But his second marriage, to blond bombshell Gloria Grahame (who played opposite Humphrey Bogart in Ray’s noir thriller “In a Lonely Place”), left a lifelong scar, according to the author. The marriage was shattered when Ray found Grahame in bed with his teenage son from his first marriage.
Ray’s stillborn working partnership with young James Dean was also a source of tragedy in the director’s life. After forming a close bond with the gifted young actor on “Rebel Without a Cause,” Ray’s masterpiece of youthful angst, the two planned future projects together. But Dean’s untimely death in a car crash left Ray devastated and drove him deep into a netherworld of drink and drugs.
True to the subtitle of the book, McGilligan duly follows Ray’s precipitous fall from grace and the final sad years of his career, until his death from cancer in 1979. In his later years, Ray enjoyed a small renaissance as his work was revived and celebrated by influential European critics.
Still, by most measures his great potential was never fully realized, and Ray himself admitted he was “the best damn filmmaker in the world who has never made one entirely good, entirely satisfactory film.” The convincing evidence offered in “Nicholas Ray: The Glorious Failure of an American Director” seems to bear that out.
- Dennis King












