Audrey Fox
The male loneliness epidemic is a trendy buzzword (buzzphrase?) these days, framed as a uniquely modern problem. It’s in the same conversation as the idea that Gen Z doesn’t date, dating apps make it impossible to actually meet anyone anymore, and that the higher standards of women is bad news bears for the average man. But then you look at Marty, a film turning 70 years old this month, and there’s such a compelling universality and timelessness to his plight. There’s certainly a version of Marty, the sad sack nice guy who can’t get a date to save his life, that’s the prototype of the modern incel. But his journey shows that while dating has always been hard, the only way through it is to be willing to put yourself out there and risk getting hurt.
It’s hard to deny that Marty, played by the famously bulldog-faced Ernest Borgnine, doesn’t have much going for him at first glance in the dating arena. He’s keenly aware that his looks aren’t what many girls are looking for, and his self-esteem is in the basement. He works as a butcher, which isn’t the most romantic profession for the discerning New York gal. There’s an early scene where he finally works up the courage to call a girl he met a month previously – first he has to prompt her several times until she actually remembers him, then he offers up a series of alternate times in desperation after she tries to gently turn him down by claiming she’s not available.
We only hear his side of the conversation, but it’s still one of the most painful asking-out scenes in all of cinema, and it perfectly sums up what Marty is working with. He’s lonely, and he feels like he’s never going to find someone. And it certainly doesn’t help that everyone in his life, from his mother to random customers at the butcher shop, make him feel constant pressure to settle down and get married. Between this pressure and the relentlessness of rejection that we can see almost as a physical weight on his shoulders, one thing is clear: Marty is going through it.
If the women in his life make him feel terrible, his male friends aren’t much better. We’re presented with Marty from the male perspective, showing how hard it is for him to find a girlfriend, but at the same time, every man in this film (besides Marty) seems to think they’re owed the most beautiful girl in the room. Our introduction to Clara (played by Betsy Blair, whose status as unattractive in this film is a bit galling) is through her date griping to his friend about being set up with an ugly girl; he then pays off a stranger to take her home so he can leave with a different girl. Marty’s best friend Angie complains about how the dance hall has nothing but dogs.
And the day after Marty has a transformative night with Clara, they deride him for spending time with her. The climax comes when Marty rejects what he’s been socialized to believe about women and relationships—that it doesn’t matter if his friends find her attractive, because he sees something special in Clara. “All I know is I had a good time last night. I’m gonna have a good time tonight. If we have enough good times together, I’m gonna get down on my knees and I’m gonna beg that girl to marry me,” he says defiantly to Angie. “If we make a party on New Year’s, I got a date for that party. You don’t like her? That’s too bad!”
The last part of this line speaks to how much loneliness plays a key role in Marty’s life. Yes, Marty and Clara click because they’re both kind, sensitive people who can empathize with one another over the way they’ve been treated by the world. They’re willing to look beneath the surface and give the person a chance. But there’s also the sheer sense of relief at the idea that if things work out, they have a date for every party they’re ever invited to. They never have to go alone, standing awkwardly in the corner and trying to think of a way to approach people. The concept of the male loneliness epidemic is often applied to romantic relationships, but it’s just as much about companionship.
So for all the folks out there trying not to get sucked into the whirling, self-defeating vortex of the male loneliness epidemic, look to Marty: This guy’s going to be your role model. Yes, it’s anxiety-provoking to put yourself out there and risk rejection, and it’s unfair that some people may not feel compelled to give you a chance even if you think you deserve it. But if you want to share your life with someone, you can’t just stay at home watching Hit Parade (or its 21st century equivalent); you have to be an active participant and actually try to meet people. If Marty can do it, anyone can.
“Marty” is available on Amazon Prime Video and several ad-based streamers.
