
The one actor Elvis Presley was completely obsessed with: “You can’t be a rebel if you grin”
In 1956, Elvis Presley made his film debut in Love Me Tender, an American western movie centred on the Reno brothers in the aftermath of the Civil War. “Mr Rock ‘n’ Roll in the Story he was born to play!”, the theatrical release poster reads, catapulting Presley into an increased, unprecedented level of stardom.
For about three years, Presley had been a recording artist in Memphis, Tennessee, with Sun Records, beginning as a hopeful teenager singing his renditions of blues and gospel tunes. A spontaneous recording of the Arthur Crudup song ‘That’s All Right’ was the first true indicator of what Presley’s voice could do, harnessing a range of emotions that was transformative. The release of his first single on RCA Victor, ‘Heartbreak Hotel’, caused an outstanding hysteria, sending Presley into the rock ‘n’ roll pantheon.
But he had long held aspirations of seeing himself on the silver screen, and prior to fame, he worked as an usher at a cinema, dreaming of joining the likes of James Dean and Marlon Brando on-screen, memorising their lines and mimicking their acting. When the opportunity to star in Love Me Tender came about, his dream became realised.
In 1957, Presley was offered the role of Danny Fisher in his fourth film, King Creole, a musical teen drama that follows a 19-year-old delinquent who stumbles into performing in a nightclub, catching the eye of two women and a local crime boss in New Orleans. Presley was suggested to play Danny Fisher in order to replace James Dean, for whom the role was written. The project had been cancelled after Dean’s tragic death in a car accident in 1955, but the success of an off-Broadway production of the story led to a revived interest in giving it the Hollywood treatment.
Despite his career lasting for only five years before his passing at the age of 24, Dean became an icon unlike anyone that American culture had seen. With his film debut, 1955’s East of Eden, Dean defined a new form of masculinity, portraying Cal as a misunderstood young man seeking his father’s approval.
That same year, Rebel Without A Cause saw Dean cast as a poster of teenage angst, portraying Jim Stark as a symbol of American youth culture. Off-camera, Dean became immortalised in his customary uniform of denim jeans, a white T-shirt and a motorcycle jacket, revolutionising a simple outfit into an emblem of identity for young people to follow.
Presley was one of the many who took notice, and upon watching Rebel Without A Cause for the first time, he was captivated by Dean and consumed everything there was to know about the enigmatic actor – he recalled a similar reverence for Brando after watching 1951’s A Streetcar Named Desire, an equally subversive figure in Hollywood that brought a fascinating defiance to film. Presley followed in the two actors’ footsteps, conjuring their spirited energies as he carried out his own rebellion in music.
“I’ve made a study of Marlon Brando. And I’ve made a study of poor Jimmy Dean. I’ve made a study of myself, and I know why girls, at least the young ‘uns, go for us,” Presley stated, in an interview with Parade magazine in 1956, the year he made his film debut.
Adding, “We’re sullen, we’re broodin’, we’re something of a menace. I don’t understand it exactly, but that’s what the girls like in men. I don’t know anything about Hollywood, but I know you can’t be sexy if you smile. You can’t be a rebel if you grin.”
Unmistakable icons in their own right, both Dean and Presley completely shifted perceptions of masculinity and self-expression in America, breaking from the rigid cultural norms. But, without Dean, there would arguably be no Presley, not just for the sake of their similarities in their looks, but in that essential rebellion that made them both stars.