Shades of Morality: Cinematography in On the Waterfront

It is the 1950s on the gritty docks of New Jersey. You are faced with a burdensome decision: get up at the crack of dawn prepared to endure hours of arduous physical labor—that is if you are lucky enough to be chosen for today’s jobs—or risk dying an ‘accidental’ death by testifying against your corrupt union boss for a chance at marginally better working conditions. This is the moral dilemma at the heart of Elia Kazan’s On the Waterfront, and it is what the film is best remembered for today—apart from its political timing and commentary on McCarthyism. In the picture, a washed-up boxer makes a decision to become more than a has-been by testifying against the union boss who once rescued him from poverty, thereby altering the fate of all those around him. On the Waterfront is not only a powerful narrative, but it was also a critical success, winning thirty awards, eight of which were Oscars, including Best Picture, Best Actor in a Leading Role, and Best Director.1 These accolades reflect the film’s profound impact on both critics and the general public itself. While the masterful dialogue and pacing of the film are largely responsible for its lasting impact, the cinematography plays a significant role as well. Every cinematographic and directorial choice made by director Kazan within On the Waterfront—from the French horn in Terry’s theme to the choice to craft the entire film in black and white—illuminates Terry’s journey toward a moral awakening.

Within On the Waterfront, Kazan furthers Terry’s moral development through his masterful command of lighting and color—or lack thereof. Perhaps the most impactful decision Kazan made when creating On the Waterfront was that of filming the movie in black and white. With technology allowing movies to be made in color as early as 1944, it is clear that Kazan’s choice not to utilize that technology is rife with purpose.2 The concept of morality as a cut-and-dry, black-and-white issue is not new. Many believe that morality is a simple choice between pure good and pure evil. If this were the case, every decision would be reached by simply reading some book of rules. Instead, morality is subjective, a game of weighing a myriad of factors, each subject to a personal valuation. In his selection of black and white for the film’s production, Kazan is toying with this idea, making an ironic choice that showcases the perceived nature of morality, wherein the film itself belies this idea through its complex narrative of choices. Kazan uses this lack of color as a symbol, as black and white is never truly black and white and is, instead, shades of gray; moral ambiguity itself is woven into the visual field of the film. This lack of color also allows for a striking contrast in the visual presentation of characters. Edie’s bright blonde hair—appearing almost white—stands out against most other tones in the movie, which are lost to the monotony of gray. White has long since represented innocence and purity, the type one may associate with a schoolmarm like Edie. This allows Edie to appear angelic, a voice of reason amongst morally gray characters. Edie therefore represents pure good: the angel on Terry’s shoulder. She urges Terry to reevaluate his moral philosophy, chiding him by saying, “I’ve never met anyone like you. There’s not a spark of sentiment or romance or human kindness in your whole body.”3 Her angelic actions are furthered by her last name, Saint. Overall, the use of monochrome cinematography within the film not only serves to dispel the purported simplicity of morality but also serves to reveal its complexity through visual contrast.

Although at first subtle in effect, the props Kazan selected and how he chose to use them allow them to act as visual symbols within On the Waterfront; props are signposts, capsules of Terry’s moral development. The most apparent of these props is Joey’s gray jacket. The jacket first appears after Joey’s death, where it is handed to Kayo Dugan, who eventually becomes the next martyr for the cause, dying like Joey after threat of testifying against Johnny Friendly. The jacket finally gets handed down to Terry, with Edie proclaiming, “I brought you Joey’s jacket. Yours is falling apart.”4 By taking possession of the jacket, Terry symbolically takes on the responsibility of testifying. When Edie says that Terry’s old jacket is “falling apart,” this mirrors the dissolution of Terry’s old moral code. It is also interesting to note that prior to receiving the jacket, Terry dons one of checked black and gray squares; these colors represent his plight of moral decision-making—black for bad and gray for better. When he wears Joey’s jacket, Terry also sheds his own moral ambiguity, replacing the checker pattern with a solid gray one, a choice, a clear direction—not checkered. However, as the film is in black and white, who’s to say it really is gray? Terry has not suddenly reached a point of virtue that might be suggested if the jacket were white; instead, he has solely decided to do the “right” thing, given the difficult circumstances he finds himself in. Joey’s pigeons also serve as an emblem of fragility when they are passed on after his death. A pigeon is, by nature, cooped up—not responsible for its own position in life, not able to do anything to change it. These pigeons mirror Terry’s standing. Their eventual death at the end of the movie reflects again the death of Terry’s outdated moral code, his freedom from being trapped in a life he did not choose for himself. Furthermore, a term frequently spoken throughout the film is “stool pigeon,” which means an individual who informs the police.5 This negative connotation is then associated with Terry as he does exactly this. These seemingly mundane props—Joey’s jacket and his pigeons—become powerful visual symbols, marking each step of Terry’s moral development.

Just as props carry symbolic weight in On the Waterfront, the theatre-inspired set design plays a crucial role in conveying deeper themes. Perhaps the most notable element of set design is the way in which Kazan designed the levels in On the Waterfront to parallel a scale of morality, from immoral to virtuous. The lowest level, the dock, represents the least moral way of thinking. On this level, the longshoremen and Johnny Friendly’s crew think only of themselves and their own benefit. They’re stuck in a fight-or-flight loop. The longshoremen stick to their moral code of “deaf and dumb,” not saying anything and pretending to know nothing out of fear of punishment from Johnny Friendly. Higher than the docks both physically and metaphorically is Father Barry’s church. Within this holy space, morals are proposed. Father Barry emphasizes the significance of speaking out and breaking this “deaf and dumb” moral code, as avenging a man’s death is more important than the fear these men harbor. Finally, the most virtuous of all is the roof on which Joey’s pigeons reside. This is the location in which Terry truly experiences key aspects of his moral development; it is the space in which he grapples with the weight and possible outcomes of his decision to testify, as well as the space in which Edie often visits to convince him of his moral obligations. It is also the space in which Terry resolves not only to testify but to pursue his independence and break free from Johnny Friendly’s rule. These levels give the audience insight into the morality of the characters that inhabit them and provide a view into Terry’s mind.

It should come as no surprise that On the Waterfront’s Oscar-nominated score serves to reinforce Terry’s journey towards moral awakening. Terry’s theme brilliantly captures the emotional turmoil of his moral dilemma. The music that plays when Terry is first introduced and in subsequent appearances consists of wind instruments—a tentative French horn and accompanying flute—played legato and with mounting urgency. The theme contains both high-pitched major notes and low-pitched minor ones, serving to emphasize the conflict going on within Terry himself. The theme itself feels somber and ominous, foreshadowing the perilous situation Terry will find himself in. These instruments work in tandem to paint Terry as a morally ambiguous character at the beginning of the film, as the conflicting treble and bass create a feeling of uncertainty within the audience. Juxtaposed to Terry’s theme is the theme of love that plays when Terry and Edie walk through the park and every time they’re alone together. This love theme is gentle, legato, with a high-pitched flute highlighting the soft playing of a harp, an instrument of love and divinity. The theme lacks the deep bassy notes of Terry’s, instead conveying emotion through the building tender crescendo of wind and stringed elements. Violins at the piece’s peak mimic the intensity one may feel in love. In the last scene of the film, Terry’s theme—with its urgency and uncertainty—is joined by this theme of love and perhaps even overcome by it. Terry, beaten half-dead by Johnny Friendly and his men, decides to get up anyway, becoming a model for the longshoremen watching with bated breath. Terry’s bassy horns are replaced by love’s soft, legato, higher-pitched flutes as Edie’s voice urges Terry on. In utilizing these elements to score this scene, Bernstein highlights Terry’s journey from the horns of moral ambiguity to the flutes of love as Edie—ever the voice of reason—sways him to do the right thing. Bernstein’s score not only parallels Terry’s emotional journey from moral ambiguity to conviction but also enhances the audience’s experience of the film, allowing them to more deeply connect with Terry’s journey.

Elia Kazan’s cinematographic choices—lighting, color palette, props, set design, and music—outline and emphasize Terry’s pursuit of the moral high ground. His choice of a black-and-white color palette paints moral ambiguity within the film, dispelling the notion that morality is black and white. This palette also serves to create a stark contrast between every scene and Edie’s bright-blonde hair, painting her as an angelic counterpart to Terry’s voyage. Furthermore, Terry’s choice of jacket—from his own black and gray checkered one to Joey’s solid gray—demonstrates his shift from moral ambiguity to decision, whereas Joey’s pigeons symbolize a part of Terry himself, and their death marks his freedom from captivity. Moreover, the different levels in the set design—from the docks to the church to the rooftop—parallel a moral hierarchy that frames Terry’s journey. Finally, the fervent soundtrack deepens the emotional complexity of Terry’s character. Kazan’s intricate use of visual and auditory symbolism allows for an expertly woven timeless tale of a man’s moral dilemma. Now, imagine the same film made in color, with a generic score, proportionate set, and no clear symbolism. Not only would the film lose much of its emotional depth, but it would fail to resonate with audiences in the same way. These choices made by Kazan are not merely aesthetic; they serve to convey the internal struggles of the characters, particularly pushing forward Terry’s moral journey. Without these elements, it would be reduced to a conventional story, losing the nuance and tension that has allowed it to become the timeless classic it is thought to be today.

Bibliography

Notes

1. “On the Waterfront Awards,” IMDb, accessed September 17, 2024, https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0047296/awards.

2. Wikipedia contributors, “Color television,” Wikipediahttps://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Color_television&oldid=1272599889 (accessed February 3, 2025).

3. Elia Kazan, On the Waterfront (United States: Columbia Pictures, 1954).

4. Kazan, On the Waterfront.

5. “Stool Pigeon Definition & Meaning,” Merriam-Webster, accessed September 18, 2024, https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/stool%20pigeon.