The Wayback Machine - https://web.archive.org/web/20080509161545/http://www.vanityfair.com/fame/features/2005/03/brando200503

Hollywood

The King Who Would Be Man

From his 1947 stage appearance in A Streetcar Named Desire until his death last year, Marlon Brando fought his own fame, with a pathological hatred of praise, an identification with the dispossessed, and a retreat to Tahiti. Talking to other Brando intimates, the screenwriter of On the Waterfront creates a private portrait of Hollywood's tormented king.

by Budd Schulberg March 2005

Marlon Brando in <i>A Streetcar Named Desire,</i> 1951.

Marlon Brando in A Streetcar Named Desire, 1951. From the Lester Glassner Collection/Neil Peters Collection.

No other actor has ever rocketed to overnight stardom on the Broadway stage as Marlon Brando did in 1947, in Tennessee Williams's steamy play A Streetcar Named Desire. There have been some memorable debuts in the American theater—I still remember Elia Kazan, the director of Streetcar, in his acting days, shouting "Strike!" at the curtain of Clifford Odets's stirring agitprop play Waiting for Lefty in 1935—but nothing will ever compare to the explosion set off by Brando in his savage portrayal of Stanley Kowalski, the brutal blue-collar tormentor of his defenseless sister-in-law, Blanche DuBois, who has come to take refuge with him and his wife. I will never forget the impact Brando had on me and the rest of the audience. This was beyond a performance. It was so raw, so real, that you wanted to run up onto the stage and save the poor woman from his taunting abuse as he ri